M. Forsythe - While Rome Was Sleeping

Charlene grabbed the telephone as if it were a life preserver, “Hello, yes, he is here Father Ben, what’s wrong? Just a moment I’ll put him on. It’s for you, Andrew, Father Ben, he sounds upset.”

Andrew took the phone from her hand and gestured for her to sit again while he spoke quietly with Ben. He turned to Charlene as he hung up. “Get your coat. The Center was broken into last night and thoroughly trashed. I’m going down there now and I think you should come too.”

She nodded in agreement. Taking a jacket from the coat closet they hurried out the door. Wordlessly they got in the car.

Putting the key in the ignition Andrew started the car then turning to Charlene he said firmly, “To finish that piece of our conversation regarding hanging up on George Kelshaw, you acted instinctively. Don’t beat yourself up about it… there’s no way to know if it’s the same guy mentioned in your letter; Father Ben would probably tell you that things like that happen as they are supposed to. He’s generally right.”

Andrew and Charlene arrived at the Center simultaneously with a Seattle Police car. The scene inside was in unbelievable disorder… books and magazines thrown everywhere, chairs and tables overturned and Ben’s office was even worse. Ben was standing in the middle of the main room when they entered ahead of two policemen, shaking his head. Andrew looked around as he approached Ben saying, “What’ll you bet that those two bums that we threw out of here yesterday paid a little visit last night?”

Father Ben nodded, “Yes, Andrew, I’d take odds that you are right. They were looking for something; it is clear by the way they ransacked the file cabinet and my desk drawers.”

Hearing Ben’s comments, one of the police officers moved toward Ben, notebook in hand, and asked, “Do you think you know who might have done this, Father?”

Again Ben nodded, “Yes, officer, I don’t want to falsely accuse anyone, however there were two men who came here yesterday that I suspect. They weren’t from any of the ships and they didn’t seem to belong. Sister Myers, Mr. Curtis and Davey Collins three of our volunteers noticed them yesterday morning. They left, but returned in the afternoon and started asking a lot of questions. Mr. Kincaid and I spoke with them and suggested they leave and not come back.”

The policeman was writing rapidly and stopped to ask “What made you suspicious? Do you think they had something to do with the guy who got stabbed outside the Center on Tuesday?”

By this time Charlene had cornered Sister Ruth by the office, “All right Sister Ruth, what has been going on here? I know about the stabbing, but who are the people that Father Ben is talking about? Did they threaten you?”

Sighing and shaking her head, Sister Ruth turned over a chair and sat down, “Mrs. Thayer, it is awful to have you come to the Center and see it in such a terrible mess. Those two men who came in here yesterday just raised my hackles. They just didn’t fit and Byron agreed, but thought perhaps that they were probably harmless. That was before we knew about that poor soul being attacked out in front.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “I’m rambling dear, but it makes my blood run cold to think that they might even be the ones who stabbed that man and Andrew getting tough with them like he did.” Ruth paused again.

Charlene looked out at Andrew talking with the officer and Ben and commented, “I think he needs to be careful. I overheard them say they thought whoever broke in was looking for something. What do you think they might have been looking for?”

Wide eyed, Sister Ruth shook her head. “I can’t imagine there’s never any money or valuables here. Father Ben is very careful about that. And you know how tight our budget is… I think it’s just malicious vandalism.”

After taking statements and getting descriptions from everyone the officers left admonishing everyone to stay out of the office and away from the desk and file cabinet until a team could dust for fingerprints. Since the office was the only room that had limited access by the fewest number of people, the officers thought the file cabinet and Ben’s desk might produce a useful set of the culprits’ prints.

Ruth and Charlene were collecting magazines and books straightening tables, carrying some things to the trash bin outside. Returning to the main room they saw Andrew and Ben by the reception desk having an animated conversation with a good looking Hispanic man whom they were informed by Byron was a Detective Jim Savalza. He was a little shorter than Andrew, about Father Ben’s height with a muscular build like that of a football player. It was clear that Andrew and Ben knew this man. As Charlene approached the trio the conversation stopped, “Interesting,” she thought.

Father Ben, always polite smiled and extended his hand toward Charlene introducing Detective Jim Savalza who flashed a brilliant smile. “Mrs. Thayer is one of our patron saints, Detective. She has been a very good friend to the Center for some time. Thank you, Charlene for helping to clean up this mess.”

“That’s fine, Father, I’m glad I could help.” She smiled pleasantly as she shook Jim Savalza’s hand. “How are you Detective?” she inquired politely as she glanced at Andrew with questioning eyes.

Andrew was awkwardly quiet. Charlene continued, “Don’t let me interrupt your conversation… please, I’ll just get back to the cleanup,” she purred.

Andrew cleared his throat. Detective Savalza frowned, his black eyes narrowed, he inquired in an official tone, “Just a minute, Mrs. Thayer, were you here yesterday?”

“No, Detective, I was not. It was a dreadful thing to happen here but I’m afraid I can’t shed any light on yesterday’s happenings.” Charlene knew that sounded like a foolish statement and waited for Andrew or Father Ben to comment, but both were silent.

Detective Savalza glanced toward the office where the team was finishing up lifting fingerprints from the file cabinet and then turned toward Andrew, “I’d like to see you outside. Oh, Mrs. Thayer, by the way, I know the work you do in the diocese and on behalf of the Center. My wife, Jean Ann and I are members of Resurrection Parish. The Center is one of our parish’s favorite outreach ministries. Nice to meet you and we’ll talk again, soon,” he added in a promising tone. Charlene wondered why, but shrugged it off thinking he must be referring to her work for the Center.

Outside, Andrew waited for the questions he knew were inevitable. Jim looked at him “You know you’ve come up in the world.”

Andrew took the bait. “What do you mean?”

“Charlene Thayer,” he saw color rise above Andrew’s collar, “Why else would you be at her house at 7:30 in the morning? I always thought you were the cool blonde type, nice to see I can be wrong.”

At first Andrew was all set to deny the implied liaison, and then thought better of it. It would be less complicated if Jim Savalza didn’t ask any more questions, but Andrew knew he had to be careful. Charlene Thayer might not be too keen on the idea. Half smiling he looked at Jim and asked suspiciously, “How did you know I was at her house at 7:30? Are you having me tailed?” he asked irritably.

“Could be simple deduction, my friend, I was on my way to your office and saw you leave; an hour and half later you and she turn up here, together. But as a matter of fact I did follow you thinking I might catch you at a more congenial location for this little talk we are about to have about Kelshaw. Oh, by the way, I know you didn’t spend the night… just thought I’d throw that in.” Detective Savalza was having a good time watching Andrew squirm if ever so slightly.