by JESUIT
Ignatious had befriended one of the tribesmen, a young man of around twenty years of age, with whom he spent much of his time. He went about with his friend, named as Karakta, into the jungles and stood with him as he commanded the various beasts, either to come to him or go away. Try though he may, Ignatious could not master this skill. The pair also went fishing together and a strong bond was forged.
The missionaries started to neglect their original orders and gradually gave up on trying to convert these unique people, instead going with them into their dwellings or out on food missions, or simply enjoying the treks into the jungles and along the river. All in all, the group became part of the community, marvelling at the simple yet, in some ways, advanced life.
After a year had passed, the group showing no inclination to move on as their duties demanded, Karakta persuaded Ignatious to stay in his dwelling for a full day, concentrating on his mind. He was urged to search into it, re-live his life to the present, sort the useful from the useless and dwell on the power that lay dormant. He was to do this without break for food or natural bodily requirements, including sleep. When the morning broke, he could then sleep for as long as he wished.
Without deviation, Ignatious carried out his friend’s instructions, falling asleep after the proper period and remaining that way for a full twelve hours. After waking and carrying out his normal functions, Ignatious sought out Karakta, eventually finding him by the river.
“Ah! So you have returned, my friend,” he said, smiling broadly and using the mixture of Portuguese and Spanish that Ignatious and the rest of the party had now become accustomed to.
Ignatious walked over and hugged Karakta. “Yes. I did as you said and I have to say that I feel strangely uplifted. Now, why did you want me to do that?”
Karakta, still smiling, motioned for Ignatious to come with him as he walked along the river. Falling into step together, they walked towards a cluster of thick bushes skirting the tangle of jungle some twenty yards away. Here they stopped. “Okay,” said Karakta. This is the test.”
“Test?”
“Yes. Remember the dragon lizards you saw when you first came?”
Ignatious nodded in response, a nervous tremor rippling through his stomach at the thought.
“Look towards these bushes, picture the dragons and will them to come to you.”
Ignatious looked at his friend suspiciously. “Why do you want me to do that, Karakta?” he asked.
“Just do it, my friend. I will not interfere. Just do as I ask.”
To humour Karakta, Ignatious turned to the bushes, nervously aware of the low growling that had now begun behind the plants, and began to concentrate. ‘Dragon, come to me,’ he thought. ‘Come to me.’
Suddenly two of the frightening dragons appeared, tongues snaking, teeth bared and growling menacingly, walking towards the two friends.
Instinctively, Ignatious thought: ‘Move back! Get back in there!’
To his great surprise, the beast obeyed! Turning as one, they ambled back into the thickness of the bushes. Ignatious swivelled to look at his friend, an expression of bewilderment on his face. “What? What?” he stuttered.
Karakta chuckled. “There you are. You now have the power of your mind. The Elder and everyone here saw in you, a different being from your comrades. You held a dormant power within your brain that we were able to detect. You will have noticed tribes where you last visited treating you with a different respect. That is because of the power that was, in a way, leaking out. Use it. Practice and do not let the skill go, even when you return to your own world.”
Ignatious had completely forgotten about his ‘own world,’ that was far away, lost in the past. However, the mention of it stirred his conscience. It was the duty of the party to leave here and go about their sacred work. He felt a strong degree of sadness at the realisation.
Understanding Ignatious’s reservations, Karakta put an arm around him in comfort. “Sorry I spoke of your world. I can see it has troubled you. There is no need to leave here, Gawain,” he used the name given when the friendship first began. “You and your friends are welcome for as long as you wish.”
“Ignatious shook his head. “No. We do not have a choice, Karakta. Our duty is to our God and we must follow His commands. I will speak to the others tomorrow.”
Sadly, the pair returned to the village. It was becoming dusk, the Sun slipping gently below the earth’s curvature. The village was quiet and almost deserted. As they stood, lost in their thoughts, Ignatious reached a decision. He would not broach the subject of leaving; not just yet, anyway. He was certain that Christian and Ottomier would now be satiating their lust with the nubile girls of the village, and that Vasquez may well be doing likewise. ‘Have they lost all sense of their vocation?’ he thought. He also decided to keep his newfound power from his colleagues.
With a tug on Ignatious’s arm, Karakta asked him to come along to see something of great interest. He moved to the hill and began to climb. This was forbidden territory and Ignatious knew that his friend was breaking one of the strict laws of the tribe. None-the-less, he followed without protest. As the hill steepened, the lush vegetation thickened into interwoven branches of small trees and hardy bushes, making progress so much tougher.
It took half an hour to arrive close to the top, where Karakta whispered for Ignatious to lie on his stomach and wriggle the rest of the distance. “Keep very low and show as little of your head as possible,” he said.
When the pair reached the top, they lay flat and peered over. What came into view took the priest’s breath away. He stared in disbelief.
At the foot of the hill, there lay a flat expanse of land, covered in fine, deep-green grass. Built on this land, at a distance of around twenty feet away, were three buildings, one large, flanked by two smaller ones. The amazing thing was, they were pyramid shaped! They appeared to be built of the same materials as those at Giza in Egypt but covered in a shiny limestone, as would be the original Great Pyramids.
The centre one would be around seventy feet high with the two smaller being around fifty. Several people, all similar to the Leader whom Ignatious had first seen, were moving around, apparently carrying out repairs to the pyramid on the right. Part of the structure, about half way up, had been removed and it was clear that the workers were about to fill the gap.
An untidy pile of flat, square blocks hewn from this rocky side of the hill, lay nearby and the men were moving in that direction. Ignatious could see no lifting gear or means of transport so he wondered how the blocks were to be moved. Each block would measure something in the region of five feet square, by two feet deep and must weigh extremely heavily.
The men approached and stood in groups of two around three of the blocks. For a minute, they stood, simply staring at the objects and then each man placed his fingertips on the block in front of them. A further half-minute or so of staring and, incredibly, the blocks rose as if lifted by the fingers! The party then moved off in the direction of the pyramids as though carrying a cardboard box. The naked arms showed no sign of muscle strain, whatsoever. Ignatious’s mouth dropped as he watched the men walk up a ramp erected by the side of the damaged building and carefully slide the blocks into the appropriate places, leaving them perfectly aligned. This operation was repeated until the pyramid was completely repaired, the limestone being applied as a final act. Finishing the task, the men removed the ramp and went inside the pyramid.
Ignatious turned to his pal, his mind full of questions, not knowing which to ask first. “Just how did they do that?” he asked, utterly mystified.
“Magic,” said Karakta in explanation.
As they made their way back down the hillside, Ignatious gleaned a fuller explanation from his companion. Through the ignorance of the tribe in such elevated matters, Ignatious managed to put together the picture. It seemed that the power of the mind was once more at work but of a higher quality than that employed by the tribe – and Ignatious, too, with his newfo
und ability.
The men were not concentrating on the actual blocks, but through them to the ground beneath. What they were doing was removing gravity! In his way, Karakta explained that the human form carries many varied electrical impulses, the strongest of these being contained in the brain. By isolating that part and concentrating it on, or through, an object, it acted as a magnetic repellant to gravity, therefore removing the weight from the solid mass. In this way, gigantic stones, weighing many tons, could be easily transported over any distance and put into whatever position was required. It was all so simple, really!
Reaching the foot of the hill undetected, the friends said their farewells and went to their respective dwellings, Karakta with the intention of enjoying sexual activity to release his new exhilaration and Ignatious to pray and sleep.
The missionaries had been with the tribe for almost a year and a half when it all went badly wrong.
Ignatious stirred in his slumber and opened his eyes, a thin film of sweat on his brow. He sat up and checked the time: eight-thirty and time to be moving on.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Hello, Graham,” opened Flint. “Glad I finally got you. Been on to the Met and they gave me your mobile number.”
Graham wasn’t too happy to be contacted now, with his secret tryst in flow, but the urgency in the Sergeant’s voice made him expect the worst.
“Yes, George. What can I do for you?” he said, pleasantly.
“It’s another body, Graham, believe it or not. A man again and no immediate signs of how death was caused. No one has touched the body and we’re waiting for your forensics boys to get here. I believe the pathologist is with you at the moment.”
Graham sighed. “Yes. She’s here with me. Sallie Dunning. You met her last time, George.”
“Yes, I remember her. Couldn’t forget a face and figure like that, could I?”
A small wave of anger washed over Graham at the light-hearted comment but he quickly let it die. He had no right to complain; Sallie wasn’t his, after all, and men, he included, were apt to make such remarks. “No, you couldn’t,” he replied, forcing a chuckle.
“Right. The unnerving thing about this one is, that the scene is the same as where Debbie Singleton was found. The exact spot.”
Graham gasped in surprise. “We’ll meet you there, then, George. I know where it is. See you in about twenty minutes?”
“Yes, okay. ‘Bye.” He hung up.
Sallie looked at her lover expectantly. She had heard him say that ‘we’ were to meet someone and by Graham’s expression, she knew it was a serious matter. “Where are we going, Graham?” she asked.
Unable to hide a smattering of annoyance, Graham explained the substance of the call to Sallie and the priest, after which they took their leave.
On the journey, the couple tried to convince each other that this might not be a connected death. It could even be from natural causes, like the woman on the picnic. Neither believed it.
Arriving in the area of the death, Graham parked the car and they set off on foot to the scene. A serious looking Sergeant Flint met them on arrival and they stepped under the striped plastic tape moving to a spot where the body could be seen, to await the forensic squad.
Nothing much could be learned from their present position, except that there were no signs of struggle and the body was naked, lying face down with one leg bent backwards from the knee, five or six inches from the ground. The man’s clothing was neatly piled a short distance away - early indications that this was the work of the detective’s quarry. The notion that it may have been a natural death evaporated quickly, as did the couple’s thoughts of a pleasant evening meal together followed by unbridled sex!
The forensics team finally arrived some fifty minutes later, and began their painstaking work. Graham was allowed to move closer to the body to carry out a visual inspection, some four feet away. His eyes were searching for the one convincing sign that this was their murderer and, peeping from the right thigh of the man, he found it – the small bunch of feathers. Some time later, he saw one of the team carefully remove it with a pair of tweezers and drop it into a plastic bag.
It was more than an hour before the team completed their work and Sallie moved in, with Graham and Flint in close attendance. She donned her mask and surgical gloves before carrying her case of equipment to the body. Following the customary practice, she began to record her words onto the tiny machine as she worked. “Male, approximately forty years of age, found in naked condition.” She closely inspected the man’s back, buttocks and legs. “No scars or injuries to rear of body.” Sallie carefully rolled Thomas over and began her inspection of his front. “Facial area unblemished, eyes open, mouth open with tongue protruding and blackened. Bruise on upper left side of chest, approximately four centimetres in diameter; appears to be from earlier injury. Operational scar on right abdomen; faded; appears to be from surgery of a minimum of ten years ago.”
She then looked closely along both arms. “Immunisation scar on upper right arm, of indeterminate age. Possibly from childhood.” Knowing the method of the killings, she bent closer so that her eyes were a mere inch from the scar.
“Here, Sallie,” said Graham, handing her his magnifying glass, “Try this,”
She took it from him and continued the inspection. After careful study, she breathed: “Yes. There it is.” Then remembering that she was recording all her comments, she became official. “Appears to be minute speckle of blood from microscopic puncture in centre of immunisation scar, administered within the last twelve hours.”
Sallie completed her examination then rolled the victim onto his face again, in his original position. She stood and walked away, removing the mask and gloves as she went. Graham and Flint followed.
Catching up with Sallie, Graham asked: “Well, Sallie. Is it our man?”
She stopped and turned to him. “As you know, Graham, I don’t like to commit myself until a full examination can be completed, but I would say that the indications point heavily in that direction. There does appear to be a tiny new puncture mark in the immunisation scar, so it certainly looks as though it’s the work of the same person. Judging by the face, I would also say that he died as a result of some sort of poisoning.”
All three exchanged grim glances. “We’ve got to get this person!” spat Graham. “He’s not going to stop, that’s quite plain to see.” Turning to Flint, he said: “George. Can you get the wheels in motion; house to house again and all that?”
“Well, Graham. What I will do, is check our last reports and dismiss those who are most unlikely to provide help – the housebound and such – and get my lads to interview the rest. I’ll also get notices up around the locality and put something out on local radio.”
“Good man.”
“Is there anything particular you’d like to put to the public?”
Graham thought about this before replying. “Yes, George. There is something. Just a niggling doubt that lies with me.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
A little sheepishly, Graham said: “Ask if anyone has noticed a particular vehicle; one that isn’t familiar, in the vicinity.”
Sallie knew what he was getting at, but George wasn’t aware of Graham’s vague suspicions. “Okay. Will do.” Then, looking quizzically at the detective, he asked: “Do you have a particular vehicle in mind?”
Graham explained about the constant appearances of the Jesuit and that it left him just a little puzzled. Something didn’t sit right with him.
George paused to take it in. “Do you suspect the Jesuit, Graham?” he asked in some surprise.
“Not entirely. No. He seems to be very open and he does seem genuinely concerned about the effect on the families. I also notice the effect he has on people, myself included. It’s as though being in the presence of a really holy man.”
George and Sallie nodded in agreement. A lewd sexual thought briefly entered Sallie’s mind as she pictured the Jesuit, then it was go
ne. An imperceptible shudder ran through her body.
“Even so, something about him just gnaws at me. Can’t explain what. Just a feeling.” By now the trio had reached their vehicles. They said their farewells to George and let him know where they would be staying for the night, at which point George drove off.
Back at the hotel, they entered the main lounge and bar where the Landlord, Alexander Brighouse, was in the middle of expounding his greater knowledge of the stage at which the investigations were at in the recent killings, to a couple of avidly listening men.
Seeing the entrance of the two officers, he shouted a hearty greeting: “Hello, there! Come and have a drink – on the house!” he called. The invitation was gratefully accepted; a drink was just what they needed. They stood alongside the two men at the bar and told Alexander what drinks they would like. Before turning to pour them, he tapped the side of his not inconsiderable nose with a forefinger, in a knowing fashion. “I’m not giving any secrets away,” he said conspiratorially.
Sallie smiled at Graham, who returned it with a wink.
As he laid the drinks on the counter before them, Alexander bawled: “Time, gentlemen, please!” The voice almost deafened them and they both jerked backwards in surprise. “We have beds to go to, you know!” came the loud voice again.
As the patrons shuffled about, drinking the remains of their glasses, retrieving coats and moving through the exit doors, Graham glanced at his watch: twenty minutes past eleven. By law, Alexander should have stopped serving at eleven!
Anticipating a long-drawn out conversation with the exuberant Landlord should they be left alone with him, Graham and Sallie quickly downed their drinks and made their exit, offering a pleasant, “Goodnight, Landlord. Could you give us a call around seven in the morning, please?”
