Tuesday Afternoon
HE DIPPED his hands into his trenchcoat to confirm that his pistol was in place. The feel of the metal hilt satisfied him. He’d killed two people in one day and he could already see the drastic change around the town. Unsually high amount of Police patrols, soldiers stationed at checkpoints and strategic places in town, civillians moving around town frantically. He’d made an impact. But this wasn’t enough to bring the change the town needed. The gospel had to reach farther than it already had. He stopped his seamless saunter and turned to the church.
St. Patrick Catholic Church. One of the few catholic churches in the town. Majority of the churches were Pentecostal. Why? Because it’s easier to get up one morning, recieve the call of God, open a church and run the church with no theological knowledge whatsoever. Not that he was condemning the Pentecostal churches. He pushed the church doors open and walked inside. A few people sat on a pew at the right row, heads down, preparing themselves for the confession they were about to make. Someone came out of the confession booth and immediately another person stood up to make his way into the booth. He didn’t need a hard look to recognise who it was. Joe Coleman. The leader of a strong racism movement that was rapidly spreading across the town. It was Joe against the people of colour. He insisted that people of colour were the cause of half the problems in the town. 70% of crimes were committed by them, half of their population was poverty stricken – like anybody in this town wasn’t poverty stricken. Joe usually backed up his campaigns with misinterpreted bible verses. If he was to spread the true gospel of God to the town he needed to rid himself of people who misperceive and preach the gospel wrongly. He walked through the aisle, enjoying each footstep and keeping his eyes fixed on the confession booth which Joe just entered. The preist was no different from Joe. After some research – going to the church regularly and tailing them both - he found out that Joe got those delusions from a certain priest at St. Patrick Catholic Church, Peter Mark. They were both guilty of misinterpreting the gospel, human discrimination, and wrong delineation of the gospel and their punishment came soon. He got to the front of the nave, turned to the awaiting confessors and pulled out his gun. They screamed and ran out of the church. Joe came out shortly after the shrill screams and loud footfalls.
“Who are..” Joe’s eyes widened upon seeing the gun in his hand. He raised the gun up and shot one bullet into the air. The preist stumbled out of the confession booth hands raised. He brought the gun down and glared at Joe.
“There is neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, nor is there male or female for you are all one in Christ Jesus”
-Galatians 3:28
Joe's mouth opened. He turned to the preist
“I appeal to you brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them. For such people are not serving the lord but their own appetites. By smooth talk and flattery they deceive the minds of naive people”
-Romans 16: 17-18
The priest was dazed. Joe glanced at the priest and then back to him. He leveled his gun at them.
Peace be unto the world as your troubled soul leaves it. Of this darkness you are free. Be gone!
455Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVKG8iptZ58
Tuesday Afternoon
SALVATORE SWIPED his keycard across the slot and his room opened. He’d arrived at Mellville about an hour ago. The town was simply the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. The roads, the flowers along the roads, the buildings, the airport he arrived at, they all looked too beautiful to be true. Even his room was too good for the amount he paid. The only hiccup in his experience was the tension he sensed in the town. There were a lot of patrols and checkpoints around the town, which made him wonder whether he came to the town at the wrong time. Obviously, something must be going on for the town to be this clogged with all forms of security.
After about 20 minutes he’d settled down in his room. He’d arranged his bags, put his clothes in order and had a good look at the room. Amazing stuff. Now it was unto the real reason he was here. To find Dillon. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and viewed the text the Rector sent him. Shortly before he left, he called the Rector of his school and had an uncomfortable conversation with him. They discussed the very reason he was suspended. Dillon Tucker. During the conversation, the Rector’s words all seemed to be punctuated with an 'I told you so', but Salvatore made his point. If Dillon was indeed the reason for his absentness at work then it would be best if he took care of the issue and found out about him. The Rector, after getting Salvatore’s point, sent him Dillon’s address. When Dillon ran away, the Rector made all effort to ensure he found out exactly what the boy was up to. A month after Dillon’s desertion, the Rector recieved a report from an airport that Dillon had taken a flight to Mellville. The Rector had monitored his movements but he didn’t let Salvatore know his whereabouts. Now that he was on a 'Permitted Sabbatical', it would definitely be the best time to check on him. He had Dillon’s address, but now he felt a little hesitation. Maybe he should just let the boy be, he ran away for a reason. But he knew that his mind would never rest if he didn’t at least see him. Dillon was like a son to him, he couldn’t just discard all the memories of him. He didn’t know Dillon’s schedule, but he would definitely have a higher probability of meeting him at home if he went in the evening. That was his decision. Come dusk, he would head over to Dillon’s.
455Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyHRHRcyT0O
Tuesday Afternoon
Scott had been pacing around the area thinking of possible ways of gaining entry. He attempted three more times to tell the policemen at the entrance that there was the literal solution to all the problems on a cup at the cafeteria. He really hoped the cafeteria hadn’t been visited and the cup hadn’t been touched or moved from its position since the events of yesterday. Well, everyone had evacuated the hospital immediately the killer left. The cafeteria workers must’ve been too busy running for their lives to arrange a couple of mugs. He had some ideas but he couldn’t try them. The policeman had promised to arrest him if he got close to the tapes again. He was just a whisker away from giving up and going home now. He decided to take one last glance at the hospital. The entrance was about as shattered as his confidence right now. A black car arrived at the scene. A man came out. Straight faced, expensive looking suit, shades and graceful footsteps. The man got to the tapes and brought out a badge from his suit pocket. A police badge. The policemen saluted him and raised the tapes for the man to pass. This was a golden opportunity for him, if of course the man was reasonable. At least he was white. Scott ran over to the entrance. On getting there the policemen all withdrew their guns and pointed it at him. Scott stopped and raised his hands up.
“Who’s this?” the man asked
“Sorry about this Sir, he’s been coming here with stupid excuses to enter the hospital.” The policeman turned to Scott “Get out of here before I shoot you” The man stared him down and turned to walk into the hospital
“It’s not stupid excuses, I have information that could help your investigation,” Scott shouted
“Get out of….”
“Wait,” The man turned around and removed his shades. “Let me hear what he has to say” he pointed his chin at Scott.
“I met the murderer in the cafeteria moments before he killed those people”
The man's eyes scanned him from head to toe. Perhaps he wasn’t dressed as serious as what he was saying?
“Is that so?” The man said
“Yes sir”
“So you had lunch with him?”
“No sir…”
“What did you two talk about then?”
“He was saying something about redeeming the town or…I can’t remember but that’s not the point…”
“Then what’s the point, the kind of meal you were eating?” The other policemen chuckled.
“No. He touched and drank from a cup. If we can find the cup we can find out who he is.”
The man’s face, loose a moment ago, became stern again.
“What’s your name mister?”
“Scott. Scott Bernard.”
“Mr. Bernard. I’m Detective Powell. How sure are you of the information you’ve just given me?”
“I’m a hundred percent sure sir.”
The man looked round.
“Come with me” He turned to the policemen “Raise the tapes for him”
The policemen muttered and raised the tapes for him. Scott went through and walked closely behind Powell. He looked back at the cops and they gave him a look that said they weren’t particularly delighted at what just happened.
455Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCBPztTRKgn
455Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡed1ND1AgBk
They opened the cafteria doors and walked inside.
“So now we’re here we just have to find the cup” Powell said
“Yeah” Scott walked forward to lead the search. He felt a heavy hand land on his right shoulder and a strong hand grip his left arm. His legs were kicked off the floor and Scott fell face down with one of Powell’s hands on his neck and the other stretching his left arm behind him.
“Did you really think it would be that easy huh?!” Powell asked while stretching his arm beyond it’s limit.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“You’re here to clear up your evidence right. Leave no traces,”
“No, I…”
“Well you definitely know a lot about fingerprints on cups for a random worker in a hospital. Not to speak of the amount of time you spent waiting outside,”
“What?”
“I came here half an hour ago and I watched you. You seemed pretty worried for someone who just wanted give the cops a clue,” Powell stretched his left arm even further. Scott screamed. He was sure his shoulder would be dislocated if Powell ever let him go.
“Who are you?!” Powell shouted. The excruciating pain tore Scott apart.
“I’m a Doctor! A surgical resident!” Scott yelled at the top of his voice.
“I don’t believe you.” Powell said stretching his arm further.
“Check my Id! Search me! I’m innocent!” Scott was yelling but Powell didn’t seem to be interested in that. Powell withdrew a handcuff from his suitpocket and cuffed his hands behind him. Scott’s shoulder throbbed.
“I’m gonna search you now.” Powell tapped around his body, felt his cellphone in his pockets and brought it out.
“A phone, interesting.”
“Check me all you want, you’re not gonna find anything on me 'cuz I’m innocent.”
“We’ll see.” Powell took his shoulder bag and went through it. Scott just lay face down envisaging how well the day would’ve gone if he’d just went to his parent’s house. If he’d just gone away the first time he was chased by the policemen. If he didn’t feel like some kind of hero. He’d have been recieving some kind of care by now at least. Instead of laying down with his hands cuffed behind his back and an excruciating pain on his left shoulder.
“A handglove? Wow, you came prepared.”
“I came with it so I wouldn’t contaminate it before I gave it to the cops.”
Powell chuckled.
“Yeah, right.”
Powell’s phone rang. He brought it out and looked at the screen.
“You’re gonna have to excuse me” Powell answered the call
“Hello Mr. Patterson,” Powell walked two or three steps away from him but still kept his eyes on him.
Scott’s mind drifted off. He was about to be arrested for terrorism despite his attempts to communicate his innocence. Mellville was a useless town afterall. Hardly twenty four hours after witnessing what was the most terrible thing he’d ever seen, his hand was almost broken and he was about to be arrested. Maisie would be thrilled to hear this one.
“Mr. Bernard,” Powell unlocked the handcuffs and helped him up.
“Turns out you’re innocent.” Powell dusted his shirt for him.
“Wow, that’s a shocker,” Scott said sarcastically and rather angrily. “What made you change your mind, Detective?”
“The real murderer just killed two people at a church.”
Now that was the real shocker. Scott didn’t expect the criminal to be killing anyone else anytime soon. How many murders could that man stomach in a day anyway.
“If what you’re saying is true then we need to find that cup so we can find him as soon as possible.” Powell said. “Sorry about your arm”
“It’s okay. Can’t say I’ve been through worse though.” Scott exercised his left arm.
“Alright let’s find that cup.”
455Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUoScN5Y3DQ
