Emma Frost Mystery Box Set 4

by Willow Rose

  “Now, to get to the point I was trying to make,” I said. “I noticed on the photo of the deceased Violet Gibson, that she too had a crooked pinky, which led me to the conclusion that what really tied these bodies together was the fact that they all had the same mother.”

  I looked at the crowd, who stared back at me. Mary Margaret had had enough now. She rose to her feet.

  “I will not have you smear my daughter’s name like this. Please, leave now,” she said.

  “Ah, if it isn’t Mary Margaret Callaghan, or should I call you Mother Superior?”

  “It is no secret that I was head of The Good Shepherd,” she said. “Until I retired in seventy-nine and had Bridget. That is commonly known around here.”

  I pulled Violet’s diary up from my purse. “This was given to me earlier today. I think you’ll all find it interesting to know what atrocities Violet Gibson and the other young girls at The Good Shepherd went through while kept there under the leadership of Mother Superior here and Father Allen. I don’t think that is so commonly known. Neither is the fact that Violet Gibson came to live with Father Allen as his housekeeper, and while living there, she had four children.”

  A gasp went through the crowd. It was hard to be heard through the loud mumbling. I held four fingers in the air.

  “Four children that were all taken from her. Four children that she never got to hold in her arms. Four children that she thought had died, just as she was told her first child died. But, none of them died, did they? They were taken from her and given away. The first child she had with Father Allen was the girl we later knew as Bridget Callaghan, the second Fiona Delaney, the third Carrick Mulligan, and finally, she had Gael Higgins shortly before she was killed.”

  I found Gael in the crowd. She looked at her mother, who was sitting next to her. Colleen Higgins was visibly embarrassed. Gael smiled and took her hand. Relief went through Colleen Higgins’ weak body. I had called Gael and told her everything in advance, so she didn’t have to hear it this way. I knew it had to be hard to take in and to forgive, but I was certain they could do it. If anyone could, it was Gael, I believed. I turned and looked at Father Allen, who seemed to have lost his tongue. He didn’t even try to object to what was being said. Mary Margaret, on the other hand, kept yelling at me to stop. Until Father Allen grabbed her arm.

  “She is right,” he said. “The truth has to come out. It’s time. It’s over, Mary. Face it.”

  “You took all her children, didn’t you?” I asked Mary Margaret and Father Allen. They were both visibly shaken.

  “You took them and lied to her. Told her she had lost them. Then you gave them another life elsewhere. Raised them with the nuns that you trusted.”

  “It’s true,” the father said. The crowd gasped. He turned to face them. “I thought it was for the best, for all of us, especially for the girls. We only tried to help them, to make sure they didn’t end up in the streets. I fell in love with Violet. But I couldn’t let the world know. I could have a housekeeper, but children? So, we had to get rid of the children. I provided good homes for them. I asked the nuns to take them. They had good lives and I got to see them in church every now and then. It felt like the right thing to do. Even though it was the hardest decision I ever had to make. I always wanted children. I wanted them to grow up with their parents, but how could I? Right now, I have a young woman and our two children living with me.”

  Mary Margaret gasped. Father Allen looked at her when he spoke. “Yes, that’s right. I learned from my mistakes and never told anyone about them. Not even you, Mary Margaret. I knew you would demand that they were removed. But I couldn’t…not again. I have lost so much. I wanted to keep them with me this time.”

  Father Allen was spitting as he spoke. I could tell he was moved to tears.

  “But, Violet wasn’t the only one, was she?” I asked. “All the young girls who came to The Good Shepherd while pregnant lost their children too, didn’t they? Where did you take them?”

  “They got adopted, or they were raised in orphanages somewhere else in Ireland. It was for their own good. You must understand, these girls were too young to have children,” Father Allen said. “Times were different back then. Society would have nothing to do with them. We were giving them a second chance.”

  “So, you lied to them and told them they had lost their children. Just like you did to Violet Gibson. But, her child was very much alive, wasn’t it? Or, should I say children? Because it was twins. Violet had twins. A boy and a girl. They were both sent away.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Mary Margaret growled. “We helped her,” she said, pointing at the crowd. “There was no way that girl could take care of one, let alone two children, and you know it. Everyone knew it.”

  “So you sent them off to an orphanage,” I said. “And Inspector Grady, here, made sure no one asked any questions. Now, Aileen and Bradan, would you say that it was a better life they provided for you?”

  Bradan and Aileen looked at each other, then back at me.

  “See, for those of you that wonder, I noticed on the very first day I entered our hotel, where both Bradan and Aileen work, that they both suffered from the same crooked pinky. It struck me as odd. It’s an very unusual defect, except when you’re related.”

  I looked down at Ryanne Mulligan. “You sent those letters, didn’t you? You were the one who slipped me the diary earlier today, right? I guessed it when I looked closer at the envelope you handed me with the letter in it. It had no postal-stamp on it. It had never been sent. You knew who I was when you saw me through the window on the day I came to see you, right? You ripped a page out, then put it in an envelope and wrote your name on it. To make it look like you had been sent one as well. Like the others had. But you hadn’t, because you were sending them. You had the diary.”

  Ryanne rose to her feet. “I wanted the truth to come out. After Violet was killed, I was sent to gather her things from the father’s house. I found the diary and kept it with me. For all those years, I have been feeling awful. I loathed myself for what we did to that girl. For what I had done. How could I live with myself, knowing what I had done?”

  “So, when you were given one of her children, Carrick, and were told to retire to take care of him, you felt bad, right?” I asked.

  “Now that I had a child of my own, I understood how deep your love is for them. I understood why Violet lost her will to live when losing her children. The guilt was eating me up. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I read her diary and sent a letter to the father of her children in nineteen ninety-six. I told him Violet was pregnant when she came to the home and told him where he could find her. I also wrote that the children were alive. I knew I would never be able to get a letter to Violet, not without the father reading it. The children deserved to know who their real parents were.”

  “The father of the children, Conan Aherne, however, turned his anger towards Violet and killed her, making her the first Rose Killer victim, a crime he was later convicted of in ninety-eight. He died of cancer five years later in prison.”

  I paused to catch my breath. All eyes were still on me.

  Now on to the finale.

  “So, who is The Rose Killer?” someone yelled from the crowd.

  “Yeah, we need to know!” someone else yelled.

  I cleared my throat and looked into the crowd.

  Here goes nothing.

  “Well, it depends on which murder you’re referring to. I believe, and do correct me if I am wrong, but I believe Bradan here killed Bridget and Fiona, while Aileen took care of Carrick and tried to kill Gael. Meanwhile, Mary Margaret took care of Anna Delaney, and tried to make it look like the other murders, except she failed to get the flower right. She even had Inspector Grady put Mrs. Delaney’s bloody cross on my pillow, trying to frame me for the murders. You had no idea who Bradan really was, did you, Inspector? You told him you needed to search my room and knew he had to let you in. And yet, you were looking straight into the face
of the real Rose Killer.”

  I looked down at them. First Mary Margaret, then Inspector Grady. No one objected, so I assumed I was right, and continued:

  “Now, while I remember it, Aileen, here is your earring. It got stuck in my boyfriend’s collar when you fought him last night.”

  I threw the earring at her and she grabbed it, then felt her empty ear, which I had noticed right away when greeting her earlier.

  “And, Bradan, you might want to get yourself some new pants, since I noticed yours were ripped last night when you held the door for me. Those wild roses can really destroy a nice pair of pants, can’t they?”

  I smiled triumphantly. “I think that about covers it, don’t you? Now, there is one thing I haven’t figured out yet. Bradan and Aileen, how did you know about what happened to your mother?”

  They both looked at Ryanne.

  “Of course,” I said. “When Ryanne heard about Violet’s death, she felt so guilty she looked for you, didn’t she? She told you everything she had read in the diary and explained how the children were taken from Violet and that she was told they had died.”

  “I sent them a letter,” she interrupted me. “I explained everything in a letter. I felt they deserved to know. Also, I thought they would like to know they had siblings in this town. Even if it meant that my own Carrick would find out I wasn’t his real mother. I felt I owed it to Violet, and maybe also to Carrick. I couldn’t keep lying.”

  “Neither could Anna Delaney, could she, Mary Margaret? She told you that afternoon that I was there. She told you that she wanted to reveal everything, that she couldn’t keep it in anymore. So, you decided to kill her. But you hadn’t thought about Ryanne. That she had already started the process, and the truth would be revealed soon. But everything we do has consequences, sometimes beyond what we can imagine. I bet Ryanne had never imagined that the twins would start planning how to revenge their mother, and then go on killing their siblings because they had everything, when the twins didn’t. And, at the same time, they could make the mothers feel what their own mother had felt when she believed she had lost her children. Making everyone suffer. It was clever.”

  Bradan got up from his seat. “Enough!” he yelled, and pulled out a gun.

  89

  July 2015

  “He’s got a gun!”

  People started screaming and running for the door. But Aileen blocked it, pointing yet another gun at them. Meanwhile, Bradan aimed his gun at me. I took one look into his fiery eyes, then dove under the pulpit just as he fired it at me. The bullet hit a statue of Mother Mary behind me, and her nose was broken off.

  The screaming was endless. People threw themselves at the floor, covering their heads, and screaming in fear. I stayed down and hoped Morten would stay safe. It all took me by surprise. I had no idea anyone would bring a gun to church. Not even Inspector Grady did that.

  “You all did this to her. Everyone in this town in this church right now is guilty!” Bradan yelled. I spotted his daughter throwing herself to the ground, screaming at her father to stop.

  Aileen took over. “You’re all guilty. You’re all responsible for what happened to our mother and to us. Do you realize what you did? Bradan and I grew up, moving from orphanage to orphanage, from foster home to foster home. No one wanted us, no one. We were beaten everywhere we went. Never wanted, never loved. Meanwhile, all our siblings were living in this happy little town, having their happy little lives, with their ‘mothers’ who cared for them and loved them. Do you think that’s FAIR?”

  No one answered. Someone whimpered. It was Mary Margaret. She was lying on the floor, her arms covering her head.

  Bradan walked over to her, then slammed the handle of his gun in her back and yelled, “Shut up!”

  Mary Margaret screamed in pain. Bradan lifted the gun and hit her again. Mary Margaret was knocked into the stone floor. I had no idea what to do. I stayed close to the ground and pulled myself forward to be able to see what was happening, cautious to not be seen or heard. I was worried about Morten and wanted to peek out from behind the pulpit to see what was going on, and hopefully see if Morten was all right. I made it far enough to be able spot Father Allen on his knees in front of the altar. Bradan was standing behind him, facing the pews, the gun pressed into the father’s neck.

  “Please,” Father Allen said. “Please. There is no need for anyone else to get hurt. We understand your pain. We…I am sorry for what we did. I can only ask for your forgiveness, but please…please don’t hurt anyone else. It’s time for healing now, not causing any more pain.”

  Bradan’s hand, holding the gun to the back of the father’s head, was shaking heavily. Aileen approached him. Her high heels were loud on the stone floor.

  “What are you doing, you idiot?” she asked. “You were supposed to kill him, remember? Kill him!”

  Bradan’s finger was moving on the trigger. He was getting ready to pull it. Meanwhile, his face was restrained, like he was torn. He sighed and looked at his sister.

  “I can’t do it. He’s a priest, for crying out loud. I’ll go to hell for this. He’s a priest!”

  Aileen rolled her eyes and walked towards him. She lifted her gun and pointed it at the father’s head, then pulled the trigger. Father Allen fell to the floor with a thud. I gasped, and people screamed and cried.

  “Shut up!” Bradan yelled. “SHUT UP!”

  My heart was racing in my chest. I had no idea what to do.

  They’re going to kill us all, aren’t they? Oh, my God, they are going to kill everyone!

  I spotted Morten, lying on the stone floor among the other people. Our eyes met. His were anxious as well. Daniel, the clerk, stood up and tried to get out the front door while Aileen had her back turned, but Bradan pulled the trigger and shot him in the shoulder. Daniel fell to the floor with a scream, blood gushing from his shoulder. He was still alive and groaning in pain. No one dared to run to help him. I had no idea if they knew I was still alive, or if they believed I had been hit when Bradan shot at me. I stayed hidden behind the pulpit and managed to peek out from its side. Morten was still all right.

  “So, now what, sis?” Bradan asked.

  Aileen looked around. She kicked the unconscious Mary Margaret in the stomach, then slapped Ryanne across her face. Aileen seemed hyper, the adrenalin pumping in her, rushing through, making her almost manic.

  “I say we kill them all,” she said.

  Bradan looked at her. He didn’t seem as sure as she.

  “That’s what we wanted, right?” she said. “We wanted them to suffer, then die, right? Those were your words.”

  Bradan nodded. “Yes. Let’s finish them off.”

  90

  July 2015

  They lined the people up like for a firing squad. They asked them to sit on their knees in front of the altar, then told them to say a last prayer.

  Oh, my God. They’re going to execute them!

  I could hardly breathe. I couldn’t just lie there in the pulpit and watch as they killed all these people. I felt sick to my stomach thinking about it. There were at least thirty people in the church. Most of them had nothing to do with what had happened. They were innocent, but the twins didn’t seem to care. They believed everyone had played a part in it. Maybe, to some degree, most of them had. At least by being silent like Inspector Grady, who had covered up for them. For what? To protect the community, to protect the Church?

  I looked at him in the crowd. Bradan grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. “I’ll take this one first,” he said.

  Aileen laughed. “Yes!”

  The inspector was told to kneel. I could tell he was trembling with fear. Bradan walked around him a few times.

  “Not such a big guy now are we, Inspector?”

  Grady shook his head with a whimper.

  “Not like the last time you and I were face to face. You remember that, Inspector, huh?”

  The inspector didn’t answer.

  “Well, I do,
” Bradan said. “I had run away from a home in Sandyford, where they had beat me half to death one day. I had escaped during the night and was sleeping in an alley. They called you from the home, because you were the one who had placed me there. That’s what you did, wasn’t it? You placed all the children in their new homes.”

  “It was for their own good,” Grady said. “Like the father said, we never meant to harm anyone.”

  Bradan slammed his gun into Grady’s neck. The inspector fell forward. Blood ran from the back of his neck.

  “But, you did! You harmed so many people! You harmed me, you harmed my sister. Do you have any idea how many homes we have lived in? Fourteen foster homes and three different orphanages. Do you have any idea how many times I have watched my sister cut herself with razorblades and had to rush her to the hospital myself because the foster home parents didn’t care to do it? Do you have any idea how many drugs I have been on? How much medication I was filled with as a child because I was disruptive? Ha! We even lived with a family once who was into witchcraft and would cut me to use my blood for their ceremonies! One of them actually set Aileen on fire once. They burned a third of her body. They had to take skin from my leg to help her. And the one time I actually managed to run away, you were there to take me back. You found me and took me back to the hell I had escaped. How is that a better life for us than if we had been with our mother? HOW?”

  Inspector Grady whimpered as the gun was pressed against his temple.

  “ANSWER ME!” Bradan yelled

  “I…I don’t…We only…I’m s-s-sorry,” Grady stuttered. “What do you want me to say?”

  “I want you to FEEL what I have felt. I want you to feel pain, like I have.” Bradan hit him again. Inspector Grady fell face first to the floor, and more blood gushed from his head.

  Bradan grabbed his collar and picked him up again. My eyes met Morten’s. I couldn’t stand simply lying there and doing nothing. Desperately, I scrutinized my surroundings to see if I could find a weapon of some sort. I wondered if I could grab one of the statues or something else, but it wouldn’t be enough.