Murderer of the Dead, Chapter 4
Thanks for your reviews, favorites and follows. This is a hard one, so I'm glad to have your company on this ride.
Frankie took the files, and I knocked softly on the son's door.
"Come in.", His voice was soft and didn't match his size at all. I opened the door, and saw him sitting on an easy chair. There was a folding chair leaning on the wall, so I opened it and sat facing him.
"What's you name?"
"Michael"
"I would like to learn more about your mother, if that's okay with you."
"I suppose. I guess her lawyer attached himself to her the second he saw you speak to her."
"Good guess. Do you trust him?"
"No way. Those creeps from the Baby Rescue Squad are...using her."
"Oh?" I shut up because Korsak taught me that silence is something a suspect will try to fill.
Michael shifted. "She's lost it some, over the years. This has always been her big issue, ever since she found out I was exposed to atrazine before I was born, and I had spina bifida. She decided that I deserved to live...wouldn't hear of aborting me, and dedicated her life to stopping abortions so kids like me would be born."
I was a little take aback by that. If it had been me, I would have become an environmental nut.
"How much time did she spend on this while you were growing up?"
He shrugged. "About one a week when I was little. The prayer vigils with St. Benedict's. Then she met Preacher Bob, and she changed."
"How did she change?'
"She left the Catholic church, and joined his Holy Roller church. Then she started going to the clinic three days a week. She got this literature that made me sick to read, and those signs. I make her keep them in the garage when she isn't using them."
"And how did she meet that lawyer?"
Michael's laugh was bitter. "He appeared out of the mists of Hell at one of the protests."
"Oh, so you don't like him?"
"I had hoped she would calm down some, and stop with the super protesting, but that lawyer eggs them on, and covers their tracks. Is there anything you can arrest him for?"
"Not that I can figure out yet, but I'll make a point of looking. I should have a chat with Preacher Bob first. Do you know his church's address?'
Frankie and I found the church, a storefront in an old restaurant in Revere. Frankie was even less impressed with this group after reading the files. He showed me what looked like a hit list of abortion doctors, with names crossed out, including Doctor Locke. If was printed from a web page.
"Oh boy, I can just tell how much I'm gonna love reading through this web site and it's links." he made a gagging noise. I had to agree with him. We walked into the church, the Church of the Born Again Souls.
It was quiet inside, with folding chairs set up in a semi circle like for an AA meeting, There was a blackboard off to one side, and Preacher Bob was erasing some Bible verses. He turned around and looked at us. "Oh, hello. I have a meeting here in about fifteen minutes, but I believe I have time to talk to you for a bit."
"Good. We just returned from Maria Delfino's house, and we do have some questions."
"Please sit down." he motioned to the chairs. We took our seats, and he turned one to face us both. "What would you like to ask?"
"Does Mrs Delfino seem confused to you?"
"Oh yes, she has gotten older–you know how it gets, where you forget things? But she's an adult, and perfectly able to take care of herself."
"Has she ever forgotten her address?"
"Can't say that I ever saw that, but she no longer drives. Her sight isn't what it used to be, so we from the church drive her wherever she wants to go. It's the Christian thing to do"
"Who drove her most often?"
"Oh Red, um, Leon Gules, our lawyer."
That didn't surprise me for even a second. Frankie took the web page copy out of his file and handed it to Preacher Bob.
"What is this?"
"We found it in Mrs. Delfino's desk."
"But that is murder! Why would anyone trying to save lives want to risk God's wrath by taking lives? It makes me sick, and I cannot think where she got this. She played around a bit with computers at the library, she told me about it, but how did she find that?" He handed it back like a dead fish, and wiped his hands on his trousers.
"Preacher Bob, that you so much for talking to us. We have Leon Gules' card, and I'm sure he may be able to fill us in too. You were very helpful"
Frankie and I walked back to our car. "So, what does your gut say?"
"My gut says, it isn't him. It also says you are going to be cuddled up to your computer for a while."
"Oh, thanks for the sympathy, Sis. I may need a barf bag."
