22. Another Unwelcome Guest

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Read Part 21

Cardinal Mara moved into the space slowly, almost as if he was trying to sneak into the stall. Fr. Miller remained with the rest of the group on the concrete walkway that bisected the long apartment building.

Mara made his way to the desk. He bent down to get a closer look at the table top, but did not touch it. To Gilbert it appeared that he was smelling it. He did the same to the two chairs, before returning to Singleton.

“May I have a pair of gloves?” he asked.

“Sure,” Singleton shrugged and pulled a pair of blue latex gloves out of one of the pockets on his vest, handing them to Mara. “We’ve already been all over this space, so you can’t mess anything up.”

Mara smiled. “That’s good to know. I hope you’re right.”

Parme rolled his eyes and then growled, “How long is this going to take?”

Mara replied, “I’m not sure. We have to move this.” He pointed to the pile of old furniture.

“My men have already moved every stick of that garbage. There was nothing under it,” Singleton said.

Cardinal Mara looked back at him over his shoulder and smiled. “Please, indulge me.”

Gilbert, Singleton, Fr. Miller and Ronnie Smith moved off the concrete walkway and over to the pile of broken furniture. Singleton directed this crew to move the furniture, most of which was wooden bedroom and living room furniture in various states of disrepair, into the stall directly across the building. Then sent them past Parme, who watched them angrily for a while and then pitched in. Within a few minutes the floor was clear of anything but dirt, packed down as hard as an adobe wall.

The police personnel moved back to the walkway and let the priests walk around the room, now empty of everything but the small writing table and two chairs. Cardinal Mara walked around the space a few times and Fr. Miller walked across the room from one side to the other. Suddenly, Mara crouched down and began to examine the dirt floor carefully.

“Did you employ Luminol?” Mara asked without looking up.

Singleton frowned and then replied, “We didn’t find any blood, so it didn’t seem necessary.”

“Look at this,” Mara said, looking up at him.

Singleton moved into the room and took a knee next to the Cardinal. He put his head down low and whistled softly.

“Smith, go get it,” Singleton said. Without a word, Ronnie Smith flew back up the concrete walkway to the stairwell leading up out of the basement.

“That may not be blood,” Singleton said softly.

“I believe it is,” Cardinal Mara replied.

Parme, who had been pacing back and forth along the concrete walkway in front of the stall had stopped and was staring at the two men, who looked rather like they were playing together in the dirt. Fr. Miller stood over them, a respectable distance back but still trying to see what they were looking at. Gilbert had moved into the room on an angle that brought him near the desk. He leaned back against the table and watched the men in the center of the empty stall.

A few moments later, Smith returned with two large orange cases. He had donned gloves. He opened up the cases and took a spray bottle over to Singleton. Then he began wiring up a portable black light to the extension cord that was powering the worklight.

“Excuse me,” Singleton said as he stood and began gentle covering the area with the liquid in the spray bottle. Both priests moved back against the walls and watched him work. As he finished, Smith handed him the black light and then moved back to the walkway and shut off the worklight.

The string of bare bulbs that hung above the walkway did not throw much light into the stalls on either side and Gilbert suddenly found himself in the shadows. He backed up until he was leaning against the writing table and waited for Smith to return to the stall. Fr. Miller was standing against the back wall and Cardinal Mara stood next to Singleton.

Smith returned and handed the portable black light to Singleton who switched it on.

“Jesus Christ!” It was Smith who said what everyone in the stall was thinking. On the section of floor that had previously been covered by a pile of old furniture and rubbish was a perfectly formed image of the circle from the front of the notebook, apparently painted in human bodily fluids.

Smith scurried back out of the stall to stand next to Parme, who was now standing still on the concrete walkway. Cardinal Mara dropped to one knee to get a closer look at the markings. He traced the line with his gloved hand and then looked up to see Fr. Miller, who had crossed from the back of the room to get a closer look.

From where he was standing, Gilbert could see the concern on Cardinal Mara’s face, etched in the eerie white glow of the black light.

“Get out of the circle!” Mara cried.

What happened next happened so quickly that none of the reports provided by the men in the room would match up perfectly afterward. Each seemed to see it unfold slightly differently. One thing they all agreed about was the wind that rose up on the middle of the stall, blowing dirt and debris into their eyes and making their jackets flap against their bodies. Cardinal Mara dropped the black light, which fell so that it continued to cast its glow across the back of the stall.

From the concrete walkway, Parme saw Mara drop the light and watched Gilbert leap forward and grab Fr. Miller, who had fallen down and seemed to be attempting to crawl out of the circle, which was glowing more now than before, despite the howling wind and blowing dirt. Just as Gilbert was about to pull the priest out of the center of the stall, the furniture fell from where it had been stacked precariously against the side of the stall. It knocked Singleton back and nearly struck Mara. As it landed on the priest the wind died.

Parme turned around quickly, hoping to God he would still see the stack of furniture on the other side of the building where the team had moved it. It was not there. He turned back to see his partner and Cardinal Mara pulling the unconscious body of Fr. Miller from beneath it.

Parme turned to Smith. “Did you see that?” The smaller technician slowly looked over his sleeve and then shook his head. He would later report that he had covered his eyes as soon as the wind came up and had seen nothing.

Singleton had been struck by something wooden and there was blood on his wrist above his left latex glove. “Turn on the light!” he shouted at Smith.

Smith jumped and switched back on the worklight, flooding the stall. The shadows cast by the pile of furniture sprang up and danced on the back wall. Singleton could see that Fr. Miller had blood on his head and ordered Smith to get upstairs and call for an ambulance. He left quickly.

Gilbert and Cardinal Mara finished pulling Fr. Miller free and checked his wounds. They looked serious, but he was still breathing. Gilbert jumped to his feet and yelled to his partner.

“Where the hell did this stuff come from? I thought we moved it!” there was venom in his voice. He realized he had sent it in the direction of his partner when Parme stepped off the walkway and into the stall and then immediately regretted it. Parme narrowed his eyes and was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his words left no room for discussion.

“Get this place locked down. Nobody comes down here but the EMTs,” he turned to Singleton. “Wayne, you’d better get a full crew down here.” Singleton had just finished mopping up the blood on his arm. He looked up at his friend and nodded. “I’m on it,” he said and headed for the stairs.

Gilbert crouched back down and looked at Cardinal Mara over the unconscious body of his friend. “What the hell was that?”

“What was what, son?”

“That blue arm that had Marty by the leg.”

Mara raised an eyebrow. “You saw that?”

Gilbert growled and looked like he was about to climb over the body of the priest and grab the Cardinal by the throat.

“Rob,” it was Parme, using a voice Gilbert hadn’t heard before. It had a gentleness to it, but also a sense of urgency.

Gilbert tore his eyes away from Mara, who was still looking at him with mild surprise, and focused on his partner. Parme nodded to the stairway. “Lock it down.”

Gilbert nodded and headed for the stairs. When he was gone, there was only Parme and the Cardinal left in the stall.

“What are we really dealing with here,” Parme asked him.

Cardinal Mara finished a prayer that Parme could barely hear in a language the detective did not know, and then stood up and turned to face the policeman. “I don’t think you want to know detective,” he replied.

Parme took a step forward and towered over the small Italian clergyman. “Don’t play games with me,” he warned.

“I’m not sure,” he replied, which made Parme lean a little further into the Cardinal’s personal space. “But if you let me see the book, I think I can find out.”

The door opened at the top of the stairs and Parme heard Gilbert leading the EMTs down into the basement.

“Then let’s go see the book,” Parme said.

Part 23 Coming Soon