Revelations 12

by De Freitas

  *

  Sheriff Amos was reviewing the case files. It was certain Annamae Jackson had killed Martha Holman, that was without question. What about Julia and Linda? Did Annamae kill them as well? And, if so, what was the motive? He had taken the coroner’s report, which showed that Linda was pregnant when she was killed, over to the Bernsteins’. It was further heartbreak for them, but they had to know.

  The clock ticked round to 8am at Sidon police station and Sheriff Amos convened the morning meeting.

  “Good morning everyone. Oscar, I’ll start with you. Can you bring the team up to date with where we stand?”

  “We have traced all calls made to and from Annamae Jackson’s phone. We have come up with nothing that would link her to Dr Brookman. It is unclear how she communicated with him. It could be at arranged dates and times, or it could be she used a neighbour’s phone or pay phone.

  “Oscar, I’d like a copy of all the calls to and from her phone, going back to when Julia was killed. So, all the way to 1983. In fact, tell them I want everything they have from the time she moved into that house and got a phone.”

  “Gaby, I want to go to the public with this. I want Dr Brookman’s picture in every media outlet. Make it known that he is wanted in connection with the murder of the two girls. We have had no success tracking him down so let’s try and hinder his ability to move around. In fact, he is likely to go where he feels safe, so get it over to the media in Louisiana as well. I want everyone looking out for this guy… sorry, Oscar please go ahead.”

  “We have fully completed the search of Ms Jackson’s house and the surrounding fields. We are unable to find any of the jewellery, or the Adidas, size nine and a half shoes.”

  “Yes, Oscar. I’d be surprised if we did find those. I’m sure she properly disposed of them. From her point of view, she was pretty unlucky that one of the bullets exited Mrs Holman and she did not notice.”

  “Sir, the Smith and Wesson gun has been traced to Louisiana, where it was reported stolen by a Mr Benson, on the 14th July, 1985. Ballistics has confirmed that both the bullet removed from the bottom of the door at Ms Jackson’s home, along with the bullet recovered from Mrs Holman’s spine, were fired from that weapon.”

  “Louisiana is where Brookman spent a lot of time. Dominic, head out there tomorrow and speak with Mr Benson. Find out if he recognises that photo of Brookman. Actually, take Annamae Jackson’s photo as well. What else, Oscar?”

  “That’s about it, sir—”

  “Thanks, Oscar. I went out and spoke with Simon Holman yesterday. He told me his mother and Annamae had a big falling out after his graduation party and they had not spoken since. As far as his mom was concerned, that was the end of the relationship. However, after that, they caught Annamae following them around on a number of occasions and confronted her. The kid said there is no way his mother drove over there to make up with Annamae. He is convinced she found out something, or figured something out and, whatever it was, she paid with her life.”

  *

  Simon parked just outside the church and got out of his car. It was early March, the air was cold and fresh, but he had not dressed for the weather. He knocked on the side door of the church and waited momentarily, but it was too cold. He opened the door and saw Fr. Mark coming down the small hallway.

  “A bit too cold out there, is it, Simon?”

  “How did you guess?” Simon responded with a smile.

  “Well, I’ll say one thing. There is no way your mother would have let you outside dressed like that!”

  “Come on in. We’ll go through to the office and have a coffee to warm you up a bit. I take it, the heater in the car is still not working?”

  Simon shook his head. “Not unless you count the engine when it overheats.”

  Fr. Mark laughed. “Nothing changes, huh?”

  “Here, have a seat by the radiator, Simon.”

  “So how are things with you, Father? I know I’ve not seen you for a couple of months, or so. I’m going to start coming back to Mass on Sunday. I just needed some time on my own.”

  “Oh, that’s completely understandable, Simon. I would not worry about it… ah, so how are things with me, you ask? Well, I do have some news.”

  “Good or bad?”

  “It depends on how you look at it, I guess. I’ve been offered the position of Bishop.”

  Simon paused; it was not what he was expecting at all. “Well, I have to say congratulations. You deserve it. Of course, we will all miss you, but it will give you the opportunity to have more influence and expand your work further afield than Sidon.”

  “I have not accepted yet. I asked for a period to consider it, but the current Bishop is not well, so they have not given me much time to make up my mind. Of course, I would be in touch often, as I’ll be based just over an hour away, so I won’t be too far.”

  “I’m sure you will make the correct decision, Father.”

  “Thanks, Simon. I’ve not told this to anyone, so please don’t mention it.”

  “Of course, Father. I understand.”

  “So, that is my news. What have you been up to?”

  Simon explained to Fr. Mark everything he had been through since Martha had died. He stressed his surprise at the impact. Living alone had taken a toll on him; both physically, as well as mentally. Only now could he appreciate what the elderly experienced.

  “Simon, I think it is wonderful that you want to turn such a negative experience into a positive one. Before you leave today, I’ll get my diary and let you know who I visit and the days I go, so we can stagger the visits. It will mean so much to them.

  “So what is happening on the job front? Are you considering going back to work for Mr Bernstein? I saw him a few weeks ago at the bank. He is looking forward to having you back.”

  “Not at this moment. I gave him a call recently and we had a chat. Eventually, I will, I guess, but I’ve not exactly caught the banking bug as they say.”

  “Well, you’re still very young with an excellent education, so there is no need to rush any decision”.

  “Father, did you ever wonder why Annamae did it?”

  Fr. Mark was caught out by the directness of the question. “I have, Simon. When I read that your mother had been killed over at Annamae’s home, I could not understand why she went there. It was no secret that she did not want anything to do with her. Have you any thoughts on it?”

  “I’ve lots of thoughts on it… I’ve over two months worth of thoughts on it! But I haven’t figured it out. I’m convinced it is not something she came across, it is more something she figured out and, when she confronted Annamae, either it led to an argument, or it was so serious that Annamae thought she could not let Mom leave alive.”

  “I must ask you something, Simon. You described seeing the deaths of Julia and Linda perfectly, why do you think you did not see your mother’s death?”

  “I don’t know Father, I have also thought about this. I just don’t know.”

  “Do you still feel Dr Brookman is around?”

  “He is never far away and I know he is protecting me.”

  Fr. Mark paused for thought. “Simon, I’m going to tell you something you are not aware of. Your mom and I spoke about it at length, but she thought it better you did not know at the time. In light of all that has happened, I believe now, perhaps, is the right time to tell you.”

  Simon was transfixed with curiosity.

  “You and I have spoken in the past about Dr Brookman and the fact that you see him as a demon. You were born at home and Dr Brookman was the doctor in attendance. On your first birthday, he visited your mother and gave you a Bible. It was named: “My First Bible.” This Bible was wrapped in a brown cloth and your mother noticed it had what looked like writing on the cloth. It was in a very old form of Aramaic, written o
n two lines and it translated to—” Fr. Mark paused and looked at Simon. “It translates to… ‘I have chosen you. The Apocalypse is written in the back.’

  “For many years, Simon, many people have tried to understand this message. It could be nothing, or perhaps there is something to it. I’m not saying your mother understood it, but there was a definite connection between Dr Brookman and Annamae, which Annamae tried to deny.”

  Simon sat wide-eyed staring at the priest.

  “You alright, Simon?”

  “I’m fine, Father… yes, I’m alright, but why did Mom not tell me this? I saw that Bible and cloth in a drawer just recently.”

  “As I said, Simon, we spoke about it, but I’m guessing she felt it may be too disturbing for you.”

  “Did Mom forget what my life has been like? How can she have thought this would be too disturbing? I passed that stage a long time ago. Almost my whole life has been disturbing!”

  Fr. Mark struggled to hold eye contact and looked down at the table.

  “Yes. It is disturbing, Father if I allow it, but it is also interesting. How do you interpret that message?”

  “No one has been able to, Simon, and to answer your next question, when I say no one, I mean no one. That cloth has made its way from here to Rome and back!”

  Simon leaned forward, picked up a pen and paper off the desk, wrote out the message and studied it for a few minutes. Fr. Mark took a sip of his coffee and observed Simon closely.

  “I’m not getting it, Father I’m not getting either line. I take it from what you are saying, that it is directed at me when it says, ‘I have chosen you’. As for the second part, I’m guessing everyone has studied The Book of Revelations closely, as it speaks of the Apocalypse.”

  “Indeed, Simon. I believe if there is something to the message, it is directed at you, personally, as the one who has been chosen. Also, yes, we have all closely studied The Book of Revelations. Nothing has been added, or removed from it. Your mother did make one excellent point, in that there are no publishing company’s details on it. Again, whether that means anything, or not, I don’t know but it is peculiar.”

  “Father, I think either Mom worked out the meaning of this message, or she figured out that Annamae was involved in the death of Linda or Julia. There can’t be much else that Annamae would take her life for, is there?”

  “I knew your mother quite well and I am fairly certain there weren’t any other issues of this magnitude, so I believe, as you say, it is one or perhaps both of these things. But, of course, if it is regarding the cloth, then that can only mean that the message written on it is very real.”

  *

  On the other side of town, Beth Osbourne was looking anxiously out the front window. Robert had left early in the morning to go to visit his sister in hospital and it would soon be getting dark. Finally, she saw the headlights turn into her driveway. She opened the front door and waited for him.

  “I was starting to get worried. How’s Angela?”

  Robert gave Beth a kiss.

  “Yes. Sorry I’m late. I should have given you a call from the hospital to say I was on my way home. She is still in a bit of pain from the operation, but she is doing a lot better.”

  “Oh, that is great news. When does she get out?”

  “All going well, by about the end of the month.”

  “Sounds good. You must be hungry. Supper is ready, I’ll just reheat the soup.”

  “Yes, I’m starving. All I’ve had since this morning is a horrible sandwich at the hospital.”

  “Amos came round this afternoon and he was sorry he missed you. The bottom line, as far as he is concerned, is Annamae Jackson is the prime suspect. However, he is not closing the investigation into Julia or Linda, until he has more evidence. I told him that we sent the back up sample out to the DNA lab in California and we are waiting for the results.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He definitely wants us to let him know as soon as we hear back from them. He will use it as part of the evidence he presents to the judge, to have Holman brought in.”

  *

  Simon got home and went straight to the room where he had last seen the Bible and cloth. He sat on the edge of the bed, opened the drawer and held the cloth up to the light. He studied the ancient writing. What next? he thought. Have I not been through enough that now I must live with this shadow over me? Suddenly, he was overcome by a dark depression. Everything that had gone wrong in his life and all the pain associated with it, descended upon him.

  What is my life? I have tried so hard. There is nothing for me in this world. He looked up to the ceiling and screamed out, “What more do you want? I have nothing left… you have taken everyone I love…”

  CHAPTER 22

  Simon awoke and looked at the clock on the bedside table: eighteen minutes past six. He knew he dreamt a lot but could not recall any of his dreams. He walked into the kitchen to get some dinner and glanced out the window towards the fields. The sun was just above the horizon. Confused, he looked at the clock on the wall above the fridge; it was twenty three minutes past six. It must be morning, he thought. He tried to think; he remembered getting home from seeing Fr. Mark just after 2pm, so it must be morning the following day. I must have been asleep for about sixteen hours.

  He opened the fridge but there was not much to eat. He put the kettle on and sat with a cup of coffee, recalling the depression he had fallen to sleep with. Looking around the tiny kitchen, he thought, I can’t live my days within these walls. Options, there are always options. He picked up an unopened envelope and a dull pencil from the kitchen table. Go back to work at the bank. Perhaps, I can meet one of the girls downstairs. Giselle is cute and there was a new trainee girl that joined recently, but what if I did fall in love again? Oh God no. Perhaps I’m not meant to be with anyone. Not to mention I don’t even want to work any longer at the bank.

  The sun light slowly came through the kitchen window and illuminated half the kitchen table. He looked at the envelope under the heading “OPTIONS” It was blank. Perhaps if I go for a walk, something will come to me. I need to get out of this house, even if it is just for my own sanity. I’ll just walk through the fields, or along the road.

  He put on his jacket and headed out the door. No sooner had he gotten out the door, than he heard Martha’s words ringing in his ears. “Put a scarf on... you should be wearing a scarf.” He turned around, came back in and put a scarf on.

  *

  Sheriff Amos was just leaving his office at the end of the day when Gaby came in and placed the two thick folders on his desk. “Listed by date as you asked. Good luck, Sheriff!”

  “Wow!” he exclaimed. “That woman must have lived on the phone.”

  “Well, sir, you did request everything. They go back nearly two decades.”

  The sheriff picked up the folders and examined them. They must each have been over two inches thick.

  “You’re not taking them home tonight, are you, Sheriff?”

  “Yes, I may as well start looking them over.”

  Gaby looked at him and shook her head.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “And you wonder, sir, why your wife left you…”

  “Yeah… yeah, I know. Trust me, I’ve heard it for years.”

  Gaby smiled. “Try and get some sleep, Sheriff. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  For the next two weeks, the lists of phone numbers became an obsession for Sheriff Amos. Every evening he got home, he sat at his living room table and studied them, looking for times and patterns. Initially, he had hoped he would get lucky. He knew before Annamae left her home with Martha’s body, she would have to call someone to arrange with them to collect her at Martha’s house, but no such call was listed.

  He had made extensive notes and built up a network of al
l Annamae’s contacts. There were phone calls to Martha, to the doctor, to business addresses and other calls he would expect her to have made. However, there were dozens of calls to public phone boxes. These he believed, had to have been pre-arranged calls to Dr Brookman. When he checked the date of the first of these calls to public phone numbers, it was the day after Dr Brookman was first reported missing. Therefore, he had to be within the Sidon area and without a home. Someone had to be looking after him.

  One of the most frequent numbers Annamae called turned out to be an old woman by the name of Mrs Paulina Balik, who Simon confirmed to him was his godmother. However, he said he had not seen nor heard from her for years until she attended Martha’s funeral.

  It was just getting dark when Sheriff Amos got home. He looked at his living room table. It was a mess of notes and papers. For the last few days, he had achieved nothing. He had visited the addresses of all the unidentified numbers. His eyes were starting to trouble him. He was getting headaches from spending so much time in his office and at home with so little sleep. He decided he would take a break tonight and, instead of studying the numbers, he would go and visit Simon’s godmother, Mrs Balik. Perhaps she could give him some information about Annamae that he was not aware of.

  Sheriff Amos headed out into the country. As he neared the area, he came across a number of small houses, they were all concentrated within a quarter mile of each other. It was a foggy night and there were very few lights on. However, he could see there were people looking out at him from slightly drawn blinds. He stopped and asked an old man walking along the track for directions to Mrs Paulina Balik’s home, but he did not respond and just stared at the sheriff. Eventually, after an hour of driving around and knocking on doors with no one willing to assist, he noticed a diminutive silhouetted figure waving at him.

  Sheriff Amos turned his car and pointed the headlights at the house. He left his engine running, got out of his patrol car, and walked towards the figure standing by the doorway. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the lack of light. As he approached, the features on the face slowly came into view. It was an old lady with white hair and wrinkled skin.