Thistle Down

by Sherrie Hansen

  Chapter 8

  For reasons Ian had never really identified or even given much thought, the constable had never been one of his favorite people. But the man was certainly being helpful today, and he was grateful for that.

  Ian looked across the constable’s desk, then over his shoulder to make sure the door to the man’s office was shut tightly. He really wasn’t fond of the notion that news of St. Conan’s robbery be broadcast all over Argyle. “Would it help if we were to install a surveillance camera?”   

  “Only an idiot would return to the scene of the crime. These kinds of petty thieves go in, take what they want, and move on to the next heist.”

  In Ian’s opinion, stealing easily-identifiable, traceable items like the copper rabbit and one-of-a-kind baptismal font from St. Conan’s was precisely something only an idiot would do, but he didn’t express his thoughts out loud. 

  “Is there anything else we can do to enhance our security? I want to avoid any kind of repeat occurrence. My fear is that now that they know that the place is wide open and unguarded much of the time, we’re an easy target for return visits. Robert the Bruce’s bone, our lovely stained glass – there are all kinds of unique architectural artifacts still ripe for the taking.”

  “You could keep the kirk locked. I know it goes against the grain, but many places are starting to do it.”

  “Locking the doors wouldn’t have saved the copper rabbit.”

  “No, but it would protect Bruce’s bones. The wife and I took a trip to Scandinavia last year and didn’t get inside a single church. Locked up tight, every last one of them. And Danes and Norwegians are reputedly some of the most honest folks on earth. Our tour guide said it was due to high incidences of both thievery and vandalism.”

  Vandalism? He’d never even considered it to be a risk. “Could this have been some sort of childish prank then? Teenagers?”

  “I doubt that. And you shouldnae necessarily equate vandalism with harmless teens. I’ve a cousin in America who lives in an area where there have been several churches burned to the ground. In this day and age, vandals can be far more dangerous than the pranksters of my era. Perhaps it’s issues with the church, the pastor, or with Christianity in general, but there are those among us who would do anything to see the church and its traditions destroyed.”

  A chilling thought, and one he hated to even think about. “But if it was teenagers, doing it just to prove it could be done, the artifacts might still be returned, correct?”

  “Sometimes part of the thrill is returning the items without getting caught. I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

  “I dread telling the elders what has happened. It’s been a challenging winter already, what with both giving and attendance down because of the bad weather.”

  “We can try to keep it quiet for a few days.” The man wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “You know how people are. Whoever was with you when you noticed the rabbit was gone must be pretty discreet, because normally, news like this would be all over Lochawe before we put our heads to the pillow.”

  Ian sighed. Emily was to be commended then. As he did on many an occasion, he wondered why it was that he was expected to keep everything confidential, while the rest of the town had free license to gossip about anything and everything that went on.

  “The problem is, if it was teenagers, it would be to your benefit for them to find out that you know as soon as possible so they can get their jollies, feel superior, and return the things they pilfered.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Once they’ve had their fun...” Ian slipped his hands into his pockets. “And if it wasn’t a prank – is there any hope of recovering the things that were stolen?”

  “I won’t lie to a man of the cloth. It’s rare.”

  “Is there anything else I can do – we can do?”

  “If you’re serious aboot keeping a closer eye on the place, another option would be to have volunteers manning the church whenever you can’t be there personally. Call them tour guides or greeters or attendants, or whatever you like. The kirk could still be open to tourists and worshippers every day without sacrificing the safety of the historical artifacts you still have.”

  That was putting it bluntly. “I can barely round up enough people to act as ushers, communion assistants and greeters on Sunday mornings.” Thank goodness they had a faithful organist who was present and in good form every Sunday. Filling the other positions was hit and miss at best.      

  “Just a thought. I’m not sure how much you’re around, or if you have a secretary.”

  “I’ve a part time assistant who works only a few hours a week. When I’m not visiting the elderly or infirmed, I’m usually working at my house. It’s considerably warmer at the manse than it is in my office at the church.”

  “If you trimmed away some of the underbrush surrounding your cottage, you’d have a clear vision of what’s going on in the churchyard.”

  “And sacrifice what little privacy I have.”

  “We can try to keep an eye open for suspicious persons or activities going on at the church, but it’s pretty much a moot point as long as you have tourists coming and going all day long.”

  “I understand what you’re saying, but being a sanctuary for travelers and townspeople alike has been an important part of our ministry for years. People come from every county in Scotland and nearly every country in the world to visit St. Conan’s. It would be a shame to put an end to that.”

  “A chain with a big padlock across the gate would go a long way towards discouraging random visitors.”

  “That would be a sad day indeed.”

  The constable glanced over his shoulder and looked about the room like he feared the walls had ears. “When you originally informed me that the items were missing, my first thought was, ‘Who would steal from a church?’”

  “And what answer have you come up with, then?”

  “We’ve talked about someone who could be so stupid, someone who’s out to make a statement, and someone who’s getting their kicks as possibilities, but there’s one other personality profile that we’ve failed to consider.”

  “Yes?” 

  “Someone who would steal from a church could well be someone who is morally bankrupt, someone who has no conscience.”

  Ian felt a chill wash over him. “I hate to think that someone of that description would have set their sights on an out-of-the-way place like St. Conan’s.”

  “As do I, laddie. But it would heed you to entertain the possibility, because if - heaven forbid I’m right, that person could also be a very real danger to you or anyone else who dared stand in his way.” 

  This gave Ian definite pause for thought. “I will take heed.”

  “Best watch your back until we’ve conducted our investigation.”

  What about the church ladies? Who would look out for them? Ian didn’t want to alarm them unduly, but shouldn’t they be told to watch their steps until the man was apprehended, if ever?

  “I’ll be in touch,” the constable promised. “Let me know what you decide to do aboot the surveillance camera and we’ll do what we can in the meantime.”