November Novel: Chapter 7

 

[Chapter 1] . . . [Chapter 2] . . . [Chapter 3] . . . [Chapter 4] . . . [Chapter 5] . . . [Chapter 6]


The Boss was really upset. Yusif had only seen him in this foul a mood once before back when Yared police officer had not done anything about one man stabbing another in a fight over a girl in the parking lot of the local eZee Stop. He had not even sent the stabbed man to the hospital or taken the knife from the aggressor. He just sent everybody home and the victim's father had actually driven the guy to the hospital. The officer would not even come to the courthouse to talk to Brad and when Brad finally got him on the phone his explanation had been "It's just two thugs. They ain't worth the trouble." The case was so screwed up that Brad had to settle it as an assault and battery with no jail time. Yared had stayed up in his attic retreat as much as possible for the week or so that it took Brad to calm down that time.

This time the anger looked worse. After the priest left yesterday there had been a long "discussion" in which Brad made it very clear to Yusif that he was never to talk to anyone about joining the office unless Brad had told him he could. When Brad left the office he had been angry; when he came back this morning he was furious. The get together at his house the night before had clearly gone sideways.

Yusif did not go to the party in honor of Father Awesome. Few things actually got Brad angry, but it was usually best to avoid him for a while if you were the cause of that anger. Just in case the subject came up, Yusif had met with one of the Saint Minas police officers last night at seven thirty about a case in General District Court this morning. That gave him some cover if Brad cornered him and asked why he skipped the party. So far, he had only seen Brad when they arrived at the courthouse at the same time and walked in together and for a minute or so when he picked up some of the blank plea agreements they filled out by hand because Judge Fleming hated verbal plea agreements. Brad had said nothing other than a muttered greeting in the parking lot and he actually yelled at someone on the phone while Yusif was down in the main office. All things considered, Yusif planned to stay as far away from his boss as he could for the next week or two.

General District Court was a disaster this morning. Judge Fleming decided rather quickly that no case could go forward unless he had the original summons or warrant which had been signed by the defendant - all of which had been destroyed in the fire. The fact that the Virginia Supreme Court's database had the charge and the officers had copies of the warrants or summons signed by the defendant did not budge the judge from that position. When Yusif pointed out that a statute allowed the judge to sign off on warrants and summons himself upon testimony of the officer, Judge Fleming had looked him in the eye and explained in simple words that he was not going to hear evidence and sign off on warrants for the two hundred people on the docket today. He was going to dismiss those charges, without prejudice, and if the Commonwealth thought they were serious enough he could send the officers back over to the magistrate to swear out new warrants.

Starting at nine, there were about thirty people scheduled for trial each hour. Every hour, when the people came in and sat down, the judge came in and announced he was dismissing their cases and sent them on their way. After the eleven o'clock crowd wandered away, Yusif left the courtroom and found a man whom he did not know waiting in hallway.

"Yusif Habib?"

"Can I help you, sir?"

"We'll see." The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card.  Then he seemed to think better of it and put the card back. "Sorry. It's a natural instinct. I don't think I should give you my name yet.  I represent someone who asked me to talk with you. Is there any place private we can go to talk?"

"We can go to my office."

The man waved his hand, rejecting that option. "No, it needs to be someplace where nobody else will see or hear us."

Yusif looked the man over.  "I know you're not from here, but you've got to realize that the moment a lawyer from somewhere else shows up people around here notice."

The man smiled.  "Oh, I'm sure that's true, but I haven't told anybody who I am or where I'm from and I'm sure you've had enough outsiders poking around for the last couple weeks that people will forget me pretty quickly.  Do you have a witness room where we can talk privately?"

Yusif looked around pointedly and then back at this guy.  "You must have noticed when you came in that this is a courthouse built in the eighteen hundreds.  We have one courtroom. Up those stairs," He pointed to the right, "are Mr. Dollerby's office, in the old balcony, and another set of stairs which lead to my office in the bell tower.  Down here all we've got are the two restrooms and the law library."  

Before Yusif finished speaking the man started walking toward the door with the plastic sign on it reading "LIBRARY."  Yusif hesitated for a second then stuck his head back in the door of the courtroom and told the bailiff that he would be in the library if the judge needed him.  Then he followed the stranger into the room.

The law library was a small rectangular room with bookshelves on all four walls and one circular blue and yellow stained glass window above the shelves on the outside wall.  The books on those shelves were ancient.  In one corner there was a copy of Virginia's statutes so old that they were all in a single large book.  The other books ranged from an old set of Corpus Juris with the name of the lawyer who had bequeathed them to the library on their bindings through a set of law reviews from Washington and Lee Law School that were all from the nineteen eighties.  In fact, the only books that were not at least twenty years old were a single set of modern Virginia statutes kept next to the door and Yusif knew from experience that the books containing the criminal and traffic codes would be missing.  They were always carried away somewhere by lawyers, although the judge's secretary putting two inch strips of red and white tape on them had stopped lawyers from taking the books back to their offices anymore so a search of the courthouse usually turned them up.  The entire room was almost filled by a worn oak table that was so large Yusif thought it must have been built inside the library.  The nearest concession to modernity was a single computer at one end of the table which was about five years old and allowed research over the internet for those patient enough to coax the information out of it.


As usual, the library was empty.  The man walked to the other side of the table and sat waving Yusif toward one of the chairs opposite him, acting for all the world as though this was his office and Yusif were the stranger.  Yusif shook his head and instead leaned back against the book shelf.


The man nodded once and began speaking.  "I'm here because someone contacted my office yesterday and asked me to come speak to you without involving local law enforcement or Mr. Dollerby.  Can I get your promise that you won't talk to either about our conversation?"


Yusif looked at the stranger.  He was a man in his late twenties or early thirties and wore the same sort of plain business suit as any courtroom lawyer, but his haircut was a little too fancy and his accent was not one that Yusif had ever heard in the mountains.  Further, he had just asked Yusif if he would betray his boss.


"I don't know who you are and I don't know why you're here, but I'm not promising anything like that. What do you want to talk to me about?"


The man stood again and walked back around the table.  As he did he spoke again.  "I'm sorry Mister Habib.  I have a specific set of instructions and I'm not allowed to discuss the matter without your agreement to those conditions."  He stopped at the door.  "You're sure you won't reconsider?"


As the man came around the table, Yusif stopped leaning on the shelves and took a couple steps back from the door.  "No. If I am told something important I will tell Mister Dollerby.  He makes the decision about whether to tell anyone else."


The man seemed to consider that for a moment. "I thank you for taking the time to speak to me this morning Mister Habib and I thank you for your honesty.  I'll tell the client what you've said and see how the client wants to proceed." Then he turned and started to walk through the door.


As the man walked out, Yusif tried to get some sort of information.  "Can you at least tell me what this concerns?"


The man stopped in the opened door and half turned back. "Are you going to talk to Mister Dollerby about this conversation?"


The answer from Yusif came back without any thought. "I already told you that."


"Then," the man said as he turned and walked out the door, "I'm afraid I can't."


Yusif stood there for a couple beats and then headed out the door himself.  The man was already out the front door of the courthouse and Yusif followed behind him, hoping to at least get the guy's license plate.  However, the man did not get into any of the cars on the street. Instead, he started walking down the street in the direction of the the Food Time grocery.  There were very few parking spots in town so a lot of people parked in the Food Time's parking lot.  About a minute after after the man turned into the parking lot so that Yusif could not see him a red Lexus sedan which Yusif had never seen before came out.  It was too far, and moving too fast for Yusif to get the entire plate, but he was pretty sure that the last three letters were "ESQ."


Going back into the building, he headed up the stairs. This was entirely too weird and even if it meant facing an angry boss, he had to report this to Brad.

November Novel: Chapter 6

[Chapter 1] . . . [Chapter 2] . . . [Chapter 3] . . . [Chapter 4] . . . [Chapter 5]

Promptly at six thirty, Jerome arrived at 1215 Old Lebanon Road and found a house overflowing with people. As well as the expected Brad, Maggie, and Abigail, the house contained a few dozen others. He found himself being introduced to numerous Dollerbys and a surprising number of Mahans. When he asked about that, Abby explained how several Mahan families realized that they could sell their two bedroom hovels in whichever city they were in and use the money to buy huge houses here. Four families of Mahans uprooted and moved to the mountains. Abby went on to brag about how two of the Mahan men were now deputies and one of the women was a police woman in the Saint Minas Department.

It was also his first real introduction to the Dollerby family. A number of Dollerbys were at the wedding, but that event had clearly been dominated by the Mahans. He met Brad's parents, Bradley Senior and Tracey. Senior had several businesses, including selling heavy equipment to the mines and the only new car dealership in Bartlette County. Tracey was a vice-principal at Bartlette Unified High School. He also met the "Aunts" - Alison, Jeanie, and Elspeth - each of whom was in her late fifties or early sixties; the group of them seemed to fill the same role in the Dollerby clan as Abby did in the Mahans. After they cornered and interrogated him for thirty minutes he was rescued by Senior who explained that he had to introduce the guest of honor around to others who were waiting to meet him.

After a couple hours of talking with various persons or groups from either of the families, Jerome finally filled a plate from the various bowls and crocks sitting on the table and counters in the kitchen and managed to escape to the back porch where he sat on a patio chair and ate in the dark. He could see the two families inside mingling cheerfully. It was a celebration of life and his arrival had been the spark that ignited it. It was nights like these when he felt the Lord's touch - or maybe tonight it was more the Holy Spirit. He had never once seen a miracle on the scale of a sea parting or water turning to wine. Yet, he constantly saw small miracles such as this. These people needed something to bring them back from blackness and anger and the Lord, through the good offices of the Bishop and the prodding of a fierce Irish matron, had sent him so that they could get together and start to heal themselves. He finished his plate and sat back in the chair listening to the the soothing murmurs of conversations that he could not quite hear.

A man walked up back lit by the light of the glass doors to the house.

He nodded his head. "Evening, Father."

Jerome nodded back and the man continued. "It's a good thing you've done here, Father, but it is going to get worse before it gets better. That man," a finger pointed toward Brad, "will charge at least two people with capital murder. If you stay here and oppose him, as you will be required to by your Church, you turn these people from great friends into enemies. Oh, Abigail Mahan will probably stand by you. Her loyalty to you and your Church is probably stronger than her loyalty to her family. She'll lose the status she cherishes so much in the family as a result. Rifts will tear the families apart and Brad probably will not be re-elected next November."

"On the other hand, these families are now strongly tied together. Without your hindrance that harmony will continue. Brad will win his trial and re-election. The publicity will probably make him a strong candidate for Attorney General. At the very least he will become a delegate or senator in the General Assembly. He'll also back Bo Ross for Sheriff which will mean the county can have an honest sheriff for years to come."

"You've fulfilled your responsibility. Go back to Richmond and tell Bishop Mannion what happened to Father Pahl. Leave these people to a better future."

Jerome struggled to see the man's face. He could never quite see the man's face. "Get thee behind me . . ."

"Satan?" The way the man's face stretched, Jerome could sense he was smiling. "I am neither Paul nor Lucifer. I do not come to tempt you Father. You have already done your duty. Thus, I cannot tempt you away from it. I just lay out the possible futures so that you can choose the proper course."

Then someone started shaking Jerome's arm and he woke up. "Hey, Mister Father?" A boy who looked all of eight stood there. "You okay? Why you sleeping out here in the cold?"

He smiled at the boy. "Sometimes we old folks just get so tired we doze off wherever we are."

The boy looked skeptical. "Huh. The Brads are looking for you. I think Mrs. Abigail wants to end the party and they want you to pray or something."

Standing, Jerome left the patio chair in the darkened corner of the patio and walked toward the glass doors. As soon as he opened the door the boy ran past him into another room where the young members of both clans had staked out as their territory earlier in the night. Senior saw him as soon as he walked in the door and called to Abby.

"Here he is Abby. No wonder we couldn't find him; he was hiding outside in the cold."

Abby hustled up, took one look at him and turned back to Senior. "Get everybody's attention. I think it's time we wrapped this up and let the Father get some sleep."

Senior let out some sort of yelp or yodel and the whole house quieted long enough for him to announce in a loud voice that everyone should come to the family room. After a minute or so, once everyone who could had crowded in and people stood as close as they could in the rooms next over, Senior called for silence again and then pointed to Abby. She looked around at all the people around that towered over her and, using Senior's arm as a brace, she climbed up on the wooden coffee table. Her voice carried through the room with a clarity that stage actors could only dream of.

"Listen up ya bunch of heathens, Protestants, and people who really, really need to go to confession." With that last came a withering stare at a man who had been introduced to Jerome as Sergeant Luke Mahan of the Bartlette Sheriff's Department.

He beamed a smile back at her. "Abby, you know full well that I went to confession last month."

"Yeah," Abby shot back, "And from what I've been hearing you're past due to go back."

Everyone in the room, including Luke Mahan, broke out laughing. After a few seconds, Abby waved her hands to focus everyone again.

"I'm afraid that we've been having so much fun that we forgot Father Tolton's had a long day. So, in about five minutes I'm going to kick all of you out. However, in a final imposition on the good Father, I'm going to ask him to say a prayer for us, because surely some of us are in bad need of it." That came with another glance toward Luke Mahan and more chuckles around the room. As that died down she pointed to Jerome.

"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit." Seeing that less than half the people around crossed themselves he continued in a more ecumenical vein. "Let us bow our head and pray together."

"Heavenly Father, we are told in Psalm 127 that it is fruitless to build a house without you and impossible to defend a civilization without you. Please be with us as we build our house with these good people and through that house a better land with you in our hearts. Let us not turn from the difficult tasks nor forget our duty to you. We ask this in the name of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen."

There was a chorus of "amens" and the crowd started breaking up. The only person who did not move was Brad Dollerby. As the crowd broke up Jerome saw the look that Brad had fastened on him from across the room. It was a hard, determined look that was not friendly. Finally, he saw a frown that bordered on belligerence cross the man's face before he shook his head and walked out of the room.

November Novel: Chapter 5

[Chapter 1] . . . [Chapter 2] . . . [Chapter 3] . . . [Chapter 4]


Jerome sat there with the two prosecutors, holding the silence in the hope that they would fill it with the information he needed. Finally, the senior man broke it.

"Father, the investigation is ongoing.  It is far from complete and we are not in a position to make any of it public."

This time the silence came from the other men and Jerome broke it.  "I'm not here to report things to the paper.  I'm here to help in any way I can.  The only person I am supposed to report to is Bishop Mannion."

The silence carried on so Jerome filled it again.  "I expect to be here until everything is shaken out.  I was speaking to Yusif before Abby came in about possibly helping with legal matters.  I went to Boston College Law and I worked for six years at the Richmond office of Spears, Allenby, Austerlitz, Evans, and Metcaffe.  As you might imagine from the rather ostentatious name, I didn't see the inside of a courtroom for those years. There's far more money and perceived prestige," he rolled his eyes expressively, "in arguing over clauses in five hundred page contracts between IBM and Motorola than there is in going into a courtroom where you might actually affect people's lives."

He knew he was laying that on a little bit thick, but he always worried that pulling out his legal bona fides would create a gulf.  It never hurt to salve the egos of the everyday lawyers he dealt with more often in untangling the local affairs of churches.  After all, he was no longer working at a snobby multi-national law firm.

. . . . 

Yusif saw the gulf between his boss and Father Tolton widening.  The cleric seemed to lack a basic understanding of how lawyers outside of big cities operated.  A biglaw firm like Spears, Allenby, Austerlitz, Evans, and Metcaffe was something entirely alien to Brad.  Yusif understood somewhat because he worked at Boreman & Franklin in Charleston for several years before he left West Virginia to take his job here.  However, Brad was a dyed in the wool local guy for whom law school had been a step in his planned political career.  In fact, going to the University of Kentucky had set him apart from the other local attorneys.  None of the twelve lawyers in the county had ever thought that practicing law had anything to do with locking themselves in an office on the thirty-second floor of a downtown tower for ninety hours a week.

He decided to jump in.  "Brad, I was talking with Father Tolton before Mrs. Mahan showed up.  I thought maybe he could come onboard as an unpaid deputy for this matter. That way he would have a fiduciary responsibility to this office and . . ."

Brad interrupted him.  "Can't do it.  Statute says that larger jurisdictions can have unpaid deputies, but we can't have one unless the comp board approves it."

"How's that?" Yusif focused in on Brad. "The Virginia constitution only allows the General Assembly to set the laws you have to enforce and how much money you have."

"Yeah.  It's unconstitutional as H . . ." Brad stopped with a glance toward Father Tolton, "It's unconstitutional as heck, but we don't need to give defense attorneys in any prosecution coming out of this anything to work with."

. . . . . 

Brad was scrambling.  What in the world was Yusif thinking?  Thank goodness this topic came up at the last commonwealth attorney seminar in Williamsburg.  Some commonwealth in the mountains on the other side of West Virginia was running an office entirely by himself and had a kid from the University of Chicago Law School who wanted to work for him without salary for two years because some charity would pay for the kid's room and board and pay off his loans. That commonwealth attorney had been willing to deputize the kid to work without pay, but the charity's lawyers had nixed it because the statutes didn't allow it in counties with smaller populations.

The idea of having a Catholic priest as a deputy Commonwealth Attorney was a nightmare.  The Father would have a higher loyalty to another organization and if the Bishop told him to do something Brad was certain that would trump any duty owed to this office.  On top of that, he already had to deal with the fact that he married a Catholic woman.  Having a priest in his office was a problem he did not need in next year's election.

"I can't hire you on Father, but I can brief you up on what we know so far. However, you do have to give me your word that you will not disclose this publicly."

He waited.  Father Tolton finally spoke.  "As I said before, I will not reveal anything that you tell me except to Bishop Mannion."

After considering that for a moment, Brad continued.  "Okay.  The investigation isn't complete yet.  The only persons who have been interviewed are Captain Ross and Grant Lasley, one of the defense attorneys.  The FBI and State Police have sent a lot of stuff to labs to be analyzed and none of that has come back.  Things are going to change."

When the Father nodded, Brad dove into the description of what he knew. "The Pahl brothers were on trial for rape and abduction.  The trial broke for the day and deputies Carr and Boyd were escorting the brothers to the holding cell over in the Sheriff's office in the building next to the courthouse.  They let the brothers' attorneys and their uncle, Father Ted Pahl, go with them.  Stopping in the alley between the buildings, they let the brothers smoke while they spoke with their attorneys.  Captain Ross came out and was breaking all that up when someone, probably two people, opened fire on them from the parking area behind the buildings."

"The civilians were on the side of the alley next to the Sheriff's office and the deputies were next to the courthouse. The initial shots went into the civilians.  We don't know how many bullets were fired, but there were rounds both from a pistol and AR-15.  That first volley hit Kyle Pahl in the neck, Justin Pahl in the chest twice, Grant Lasley in the elbow, and Father Pahl in the leg.  The Pahl brothers fell where they were and Lasley, who is a combat vet, grabbed the Father by the back of his shirt and dragged him behind the deputies. The other defense attorney, Keith Tolliver, turned and ran toward the front of the alley.  He got three bullets in the lower back and went down.  The deputies took cover behind a propane tank that was next to the courthouse.  Then one of the attacker's bullets holed the tank and a white gas filled the back of the alley.  Captain Ross grabbed his keys and ran for the door to the courthouse. He got to up on the little patio to the door and four bullets hit him.  His vest caught three and one hit him in the arm and he was thrown off the porch into a bunch of plastic trash containers.  Then something, we don't know what yet, ignited the gas."

"The explosion caught the two deputies behind the tank and threw them back ten feet. They suffered concussive traumas and third degree burns.  Lasley and Father Pahl were lying on the ground and the explosion mostly missed them.  Lasley got burns on his right hand, the back of his neck, and had to have his left arm removed above the elbow, but he came through it without any other serious injuries.  Father Pahl may have already been dead when the explosion occurred.  His leg wound hit an artery and he bled out.  The explosion reverberated from the solid granite courthouse and hit the Sheriff's office hard.  It was an old inn which was converted for use by the county government about thirty years ago and about a third of it was immediately flattened.  Some of it fell on the the Pahl brothers and they got multiple internal injuries on top of the bullet wounds."

"Neither Tolliver or Captain Ross were hurt by the explosion.  Tolliver probably won't be able to walk ever again, but he's awake. He just won't talk to anyone in law enforcement about what happened.  On the other hand, Bo . . ." He paused when he saw a questioning look in the Father's eyes.  "Yes, the same Bo who came to our wedding reception.  Bo wouldn't have even gone to the hospital in Tennessee if Sheriff Minton hadn't ordered him to.  He's already back on duty with a bandage on his right forearm.  The bullet didn't even hit any muscles or bone.  It hit the arm at an angle, furrowed under his skin and lodged there.  He claims the bruises on his back are worse than the bullet wound. Apparently, the porch and the trash cans they found him under must have blocked the explosion so he didn't get any concussive injuries or burns. Sheriff's got him riding a desk for now until the arm's completely healed."

"Right now the only one dead is Father Pahl.  However, The Pahl brothers are never expected to regain consciousness and the doctors are just waiting for the old man to sign off on removing them from respirators.  Deputy Boyd is in the same condition, but the hospital can't find anyone related closely enough to make the call.  They're going to have some sort of meeting to decide what to do tomorrow.  Deputy Carr was taken off the respirator two days ago and wasn't expected to make it through the night.  His family is sitting a deathwatch with him down at Beauregard Medical down in Johnson City."

"Father, I don't know how familiar you are with Virginia criminal law.  Both killing multiple people and killing law enforcement officers call for the same thing.  This is a capital case."

November Novel: Chapter 4

[Chapter 1] . . . [Chapter 2] . . . [Chapter 3]

Yusif was looking through the through the Tyree Lee file. Tyree went into the eZee Stop in Saint Minas, grabbed a six pack of Bud, and walked out of the store while the clerk was looking the other direction. The theft was less than ten dollars, but Tyree had been in court so often that if he sneezed in the wrong place he caught a felony charge. There was a video of the theft and Tyree confessed to the Saint Minas officer who arrested him. His record was so bad that the sentencing guidelines called for him to get between a year and a month and a year and six months in jail. Yusif put down the file and started typing up a plea agreement on his computer.

It probably would do no good, but he would send the plea agreement to Tyree's lawyer anyway. Most people who were being prosecuted currently were going to get away with it this time. When the old inn burnt down it took out more than just a few offices. It destroyed records of all the investigations done by the Sheriff's Department. Worse, all the evidence which was kept locked in the basement was gone. Adding to these problems, the Clerk of the Circuit Court had his offices in the old inn too, so all the files which had the original indictments, signed by the grand jury foreman, were nothing more than ash.

"Excuse me." The voice roused Yusif from his gloomy thoughts and he looked away from the computer. There was a Black man standing in the door of his office which meant the guy was definitely from out of town. The only ethnic minorities in Bartlette County were one Egyptian-American, three Indian doctors and their families, and the Melugeons. The only African-American Yusif had seen in Bartlette County in the last year was one of the FBI agents who showed up after the attack. This rail thin man in threadbare black pants and beat up gray coat was not a member of the FBI.

Well, at least he doesn't look like a reporter either, Yusif thought. He waved the man into room. "Yes? Can I help you sir?"

The man walked into the room. "I hope so. The lady downstairs sent me up here . . ." As the man walked into room his coat swung open revealing his collar.

. . . . .

Jerome saw the moment of recognition. The man's eyes widened slightly and he immediately started to stand. Next, this man who had been perfectly cordial to him would overcompensate for imagined impropriety by becoming extremely polite and formal. He needed to nip that in the bud.

He held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "I come in peace, Earthling. Take me to your leader."

The man behind the desk froze. He stood there for ten seconds, then ten more. Finally, he spoke without smiling. "You know, Father, it never ends well when someone says that to Kirk."

Jerome put on his best smile. "Then I guess it's good we're not on the Enterprise."

Striding forward, Jerome stuck out his hand. "Hi. I'm Jerome Tolton. I'm looking for . . ."

The big man stopped with his hand halfway across the desk. "You're Father Awesome?"

Taking another stride, Jerome reached out and grabbed the hand which had stopped moving forward and shook it when the man squeezed back automatically. He almost regretted it a second later when the big man got a grin on his face and the squeeze became enthusiastic. "Heck, Father, I've been hearing stories about you ever since I moved to Bartlette County. Mrs. Mahan brags on you all the time. I expected you'd be ten foot tall and have lightning bolts flashing from your eyes."

As Jerome took back his slightly crushed hand it was his turn to be a little confused. "You mean Maggie?"

"No, sir." The man's grin got a few centimeters wider. "There's only one Mrs. Mahan in Bartlette County and that's Abigail Mahan."

"And she calls me Father Awesome?"

"No Sir. She brags on you so much that Maggie and Brad do though."

For a couple seconds, Jerome reflected on that. He did a lot of things over the last ten years as he became the Bishop's top troubleshooter, but not many of them felt much like they should be bragged about. "I can't say I've done much that deserved bragging. I just do what the Bishop tells me to as best God gives me the ability to. Living up to that nickname might take a little more than the abilities the Lord has given me."

"I wouldn't bet on that Father." The big man continued to grin. "And I definitely wouldn't let Mrs. Mahan know if I doubted it. I'd get a tongue lashing that would take off several layers of skin."

"Anyway," the man pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk, "Have a seat. I'm Yusif Habib, the deputy Commonwealth Attorney. What can I do for you?"

Looking down at the two chairs in front of the desk, Jerome chose the wooden one over the one made of metal and plastic. Although both were of indeterminate age, they clearly had their best decades behind them. So did the metal desk with the Seventies era ugly green paint. The man who sat down in the equally dated orange chair behind the desk had a dark skin tone and he was offensive lineman large.

"Well, Yusif, I was sent here to help out. I'm not exactly Father Dowling, so I don't think I'd be much help sleuthing around the dark corners of Bartlette County, but I am a lawyer. I thought maybe I could be of some help here."

. . . . . .

Brad walked out of the examination room, putting his jacket back on. He might not even have a scar where they sewed his earlobe back together, although Doctor Ambedkar waffled about it the way insurance companies have trained doctors to do. At least the good doctor took off that ridiculous bandage. He gave all sorts of dire warnings about scratching the ear or getting it wet, but he allowed that it would probably be better if the ear got air as it healed.

As Brad was paying at the front desk, Maggie almost hurdled through the front door. "Get moving. We have to get to your office right now. Why aren't you answering your phone? I tried to call you four times and you never picked up."

It all came out in one breath and Brad was a little stunned by the onslaught. He pointed to a sign in the lobby which forbade the use of cell phones because they might interfere with medical equipment. It would have been more effective as an excuse if two kids in the lobby had not been texting away on their phones in the seats next to the picture. Yet, Maggie did not call him on it. Instead, she grabbed him by the arm and started hustling him out the door. "We've got to go now. My car is right outside. We'll come back and get yours later."

Her car was parked right outside the doctor's office on the yellow curb. She shoved him toward the passenger side and hit her key fob unlocking the vehicle. Once they were both in she turned the key so fast that the starter made a grinding noise and she practically stomped the gas pedal as they pulled out.

While he fumbled to get his seat belt on, Brad looked over at his wife. "What's going on Maggs?"

She kept her eyes in front as the car barely paused at the stop sign at the entrance of the parking lot. "Paula called me. She tried to call you first, but couldn't get an answer. I was in Yared doing the political wife thing at a Red Hats lunch. It took me an hour to get here and get you - still with your phone off."

Brad could tell he was going to hear about this later. Maggie considered it just this side of a sin not to be reachable by cell twenty-four hours a day. Again though, she was not fussing at him about it. Something really had her flummoxed. "Maggs, slow down. What is it?"

"Father Tolton's here. He is at your office, waiting to talk with you and you are making him wait."

Brad winced as his wife made a left turn onto Main Street, at speed, under what could have arguably been the last glow of the yellow before the light turned red, and directly in front of a town officer. "Dammit, Maggs, slow down! It won't do anyone any good if you kill us five hundred feet from the courthouse. And Tolton seemed like a decent guy. He'll understand."

She pulled around behind the courthouse and directly into the space reserved for the General District Court judge. "Bradley 'Nickel' Dollerby, it's Father Tolton and you will call him Father. I know the Father will understand. My mother, on the other hand . . ." She paused and gave Brad a meaningful look. Both of them got out of the car and strode quickly into the courthouse.

When they got to Brad's office, Paula was on the phone and she pointed upward.  They turned around and headed straight to the attic office.  When they got there, Yusif had two people sitting in front of his desk.  There was a thin black man in priestly garb and an older lady with a light blue blouse and long dark blue skirt.  Brad had just enough time to think "damn, she's wearing the pearls" before she opened up on him.

"Well, it's about time you showed up, Mister Commonwealth Attorney.  While you've been out gallivanting, Father Jerome has been sitting here for an hour and a half waiting for you to be kind enough to show up at your own office.  You do still work here don't you?"

Brad stood there. All he could do was weather the storm.  There was no arguing with this woman and even if he did argue, God help him if he scored any hits because then his wife would turn on him too.  Of course, if he remained silent his wife would start arguing with Abigail on her own in about ten seconds.  This would lead to chastisement later about how he never stood up for himself and how she always had to defend him from her mother. That was infinitely better than having the two women yelling at him in tandem.  Then, just as Abigail was hitting stride, a voice cut across her harangue.

"Now, Abby, this is my fault, not his."

Then Brad saw something he had thought impossible.  Abigail Mahan stopped in mid fuss. It was only a moment, but when the slightly built priest interrupted her she stopped.  Then she turned to the priest.

"Nonsense.  You are a guest and shouldn't be treated this way.  And you a Father even."  She scowled slightly and started to turn back to continue tearing strips off Brad's hide.

The priest stuck his hand, palm out, between that scowl and its intended victim. 

"Abby, I'm the one who's being rude here, not Mr. Dollerby. I came to town without calling anyone, showed up without an appointment, and it never even occurred to me that a man who was in a building when a massive explosion took place right outside would probably be seeing a doctor." The priest stood and took Abigail's arm, helping her to her feet. "And you, of all people, know that the fact that I'm a priest does not make me perfect.  The Bishop sent me to talk to these gentlemen about what happened last week, so I'm afraid I'll have wait until tonight to finish filling you in on all the details of what I've been up to." He walked her over to the door and looked at Maggie. "Maggie, would you be kind enough to walk Abby out so that I can talk to your husband?"  Maggie nodded and both women left after the priest promised he would show up at half past six for supper.

Brad stood there astonished.  He had never seen anyone stop Abigail once she got rolling, much less give her the bum's rush out the door.  As the priest shut the door behind the ladies and turned back around, Brad heard his assistant's voice behind him. "Wow. Now I know why they call you Father Awesome."

As Brad watched a little grin crossed Father Tolton's lips. "Don't expect it to last. I give it a day or two and she'll be pushing me around just as much as she does everyone else."  

With that, the priest returned to his seat.  Brad sat in the the old metal chair next to him.  "Father, what can we do for you?"

The priest's expression became much more serious. "I've been sent by Bishop Mannion. What can you tell me about the death of Father Ted Pahl?"