Bill Franks - Jesuit

“From all accounts, Brother,” Graham began again. “You have been able to bring a surprising amount of comfort to the stricken souls in their grief, following the tragic deaths of their loved ones.”

“Yes, that is so. My mission here is to do just that and I am pleased to have been fortunate enough to have brought hope to the empty lives of those I have met.”

Sallie was seated three feet from the Jesuit and his vibes were coursing through her as she gazed, entranced, at the God’s holy face. Take me now! Here, in front of these sinners! Rid me of my sinfulness! She was utterly powerless to stop the weird thoughts that were in danger of consuming her. As he stopped speaking to Graham, his eyes swivelled in her direction, a smile playing gently on his lips. It was as if a lance was being thrust into her.

Graham, also, was not entirely immune to the compelling aura of the Jesuit. Even through his hard-nosed experience, he found himself struggling to put his thoughts together, a state of confusion tending to invade. However, he concentrated on the task and continued to put his questions.

“How do you find out about the tragedies, Brother Saviour? You do seem to be around at the right time.” He smiled as his words probed.

“Oh, I keep my nose to the ground. It’s surprising what information one can gather just from local gossip. There is always someone who knows what is going on and eager to spread the news. I also take confessions and talk to my brother priests. Such as the dear Father McGiven, here.” He waved a hand towards the silent priest.

“Ah. I see.” The explanation was quite feasible. “What brings you to this area?”

“My mission. I had to begin somewhere. It could be any part of the country but I chose what I consider to be a charming part of England. I do not intend to stay as I am instructed to travel to different parts of the world with my work. The more people to whom I am able to offer solace, the greater the possibility of bringing them to The Almighty, or to renew their faith in Him. I see my role in life as fulfilling a quest, the ‘treasure’ being the acceptance of the one great God.”

“Do you see yourself as equally able to bring your word to persons of differing faiths; Hindu, Moslem and so on?”

Ignatious was fully in his stride now, speaking on his favourite subject. “Oh, yes. No matter the faith, we all believe in something. I would dearly love to see all the religions of the world joined in one universal Master, although I fear that will never be. Broadly, all religions have the same teachings and aims: love of fellow beings, succour, fairness, compassion, understanding, humility and sacrifice to the Lord.” His eyes now drifting towards the heavens, Ignatious did not want to stop.

Graham, spotting the danger of enduring a never-ending religious sermon, jumped in. “Yes, Brother, a very noble aspiration. I think we should all wish to see that come to be.” Returning to the questioning, he asked: “Do you hear of the deaths prior to arriving in a village, or town, or are you in the place already?”

Ignatious pondered this a moment before replying. “It is difficult to say, really, Detective Inspector, but I think I am usually in another place when I get to hear of the tragedies.”

“Where were you when you heard of the murder of the little girl? Kylie Johnson that would be.”

Again, the Jesuit pondered. “I would say,…” he said thoughtfully, “that I was…let me see…in…er…Aylesbury, I think. Yes. Aylesbury. I was on my way to this area and I parked up there overnight, after spending a little time in the town, talking to anyone who was willing to spare the time. I also read of the death in the local newspaper.”

“And what about the other deaths? Can you recall where you were then?”

Ignatious smiled. “Detective Inspector. You are questioning me as though I were involved!”

Graham looked into the Jesuit’s eyes, resisting the sudden urge to cry out for forgiveness. “Well, Brother Saviour, you are involved aren’t you?”

Puzzlement showed on Ignatious’s face. “In what way do you feel that I am involved?”

“By the fact that you visit the bereaved shortly after the deaths of their family members. You are involved with them almost immediately.”

“But, surely, Detective, you do not suggest that I have anything at all to do with the murders?”

Graham reacted with surprise. “Oh, no. I do not imply that,” he replied. “I merely feel that you might just have picked up on something said, when on your visits. Any little thing that may give us some kind of a clue.”

Ignatious relaxed. “Well, no. I have only made two visits in connection with the killings — no, three in all. I visited the mother of Kylie Johnson and the parents of Debbie Singleton. Then, later, I had a chat with the father of Debbie as he had regressed from the day of the funeral. I felt that I had helped to permanently drive the demons from his mind on the last meeting.”

“When was this, Brother?”

“Yesterday: at this church. Here, in this room in the presence of Father McGiven.” Father McGiven nodded.

“And how is the man now, Brother?”

“Fine. I feel certain that he is completely comforted and in the protection of The Lord.”

Graham continued the questioning. “What I am looking for is any mention of the victims arranging to meet someone — perhaps a friend, relative, or even a stranger. Was there any mention of any such persons?”

“Possibly. As I remember it, Kylie was simply out on a pleasant walk; something she did often, apparently. With Debbie, her mother did say that she had got herself ready to go out as though she were meeting some young man, but she told her mother nothing more than that she was going out. Mrs. Singleton’s intuition as a mother told her that Debbie was preparing for a romantic meeting but that’s all.”

There seemed no point in going further with this. The Jesuit was quite clearly a man in the right place at the right time. There was no suspicion of any wrongdoing attached to him. Graham thought he may visit Mrs. Singleton, though, to see if she was aware of any young men that her daughter had recently been going around with, or any that she had recently met. “Thank you, Brother Saviour,” he said, “for all your help. It was very good of you to meet me and I may say it was also a pleasure on my part.”

“Likewise, Detective Inspector,” said Ignatious, holding out his hand. As Graham took it, he felt the confusion in his mind begin again and it was several seconds before he felt able to speak. “Good luck to you,” he managed, “and I hope your mission succeeds. We need some good deeds in this awful world.”

“I will do my utmost,” he returned before turning to Sallie. “And I am charmed to have met you, my child,” he said. “Whatever your sins, I am sure God will forgive you.” He took her hands in his. “Read your mind carefully; try to make the right decisions. Following your heart is not always the best course.” He let go.

Sallie stared at him, feeling nausea through the erratic thoughts surging back into her mind. Rape me, my God! Take me by force! I deserve it! I am an evil sinner! He knows! He knows what I have been doing! How? How? She remained seated, her mouth open, silent.

Ignatious backed away, a knowing smile on his face. He said his farewells to the three and left. It took several seconds for anyone to speak. Each turned to the other with a feeling that a holy visit had just taken place and none could be certain that the Jesuit had left the building by normal means. He seemed to have spirited himself away. Except that he knew he had been questioning the priest, Graham would have felt that this had all been a dream, or a figment of his imagination. Never had he experienced anything like it.