Prayers for the Dead (46 page)

“No, it isn’t!” Rina stated. “What is important is Dolores Sparks hated Decameron. She probably felt he had stolen her husband. Either directly — as in they were having an affair — or indirectly — as in Decameron being a bad influence on Azor.”

Marge gloated. “And like I always said, Kenneth Leonard was just an innocent bystander. He came to Decameron’s to clear his conscience about the fraud. Instead, he wound up with a bullet in his head.”

Oliver said, “I think it still could be Fisher/Tyne.”

“It could be,” Decker said. “I haven’t ruled out anyone… including Bram.”

Rina folded her arms across her chest. “He would never, ever
hurt
anyone. He probably knew what was going on. He was protecting his father’s name, Peter.”

Marge said, “Sounds to me like he’s protecting his mother from a murder rap.”

Oliver said, “She couldn’t do it by herself.”

“So she had help,” Marge said.

“Who?”

“Someone who’s been spending lots of time with the family.” Decker stood up from the table. “It’s time we pay Dolores Sparks a visit.”

“She’s unavailable.” Michael
was hostile. “Next time call before you harass us.”

“Sorry, but it’s important.” Decker sidestepped around him, entered the house, Marge and Oliver keeping pace behind him.

Stunned, Michael hesitated before shutting the door. “You just can’t barge in here like that.”

“Fine,” Decker said. “Kick me out. Make it obvious to everyone that you have something to hide.”

Michael’s mouth dropped open. “I’ve got nothing—”

“Where’s your mom? Upstairs?”

“You pester my family, you arrest my brothers, you throw around ridiculous charges, you—”

“Save it for the judge,” Oliver said.

“Sorry about the intrusion,” Marge said.

“I don’t believe this!” Michael raised his voice. “I’m calling my lawyer.”

“You mean Waterson?” Oliver asked. “I wouldn’t call him if I were you.”

Decker started up the stairs, Michael at his heels. “Detective Oliver is right, son. You
don’t
want to do that.”

Michael said, “And why’s that?”

“Ask your brother Bram. Bet he knows.”

As Decker opened the door to the master bedroom, he was instantly attacked by a pair of burning green eyes. Bram was kneeling in front of his seated mother, his hands clasped around hers, a hunk of shiny metal between their interlaced fingers.

A Beretta semiautomatic.

Decker stopped at the threshold. With a hand signal, he told everyone behind him to halt. But Michael paid no attention, storming past Decker.

“He just barged his way in, Bram. I—”

Abruptly, Michael stopped talking when he noticed the gun. Eyes darting back and forth. Quietly, he asked, “What’s going on, Bram?”

The room fell quiet. A cavernous place in beige and white, eerily lit by a couple of reading lamps posted on either side of the king-sized bed. In the corner was a desk piled high with papers. The drapes had been drawn — old, ecru things — worn and frayed.

Dressed in a flowing caftan, Dolly Sparks looked at her youngest son, then returned her eyes to her lap. She was seated in a cream-colored wing chair, her shoulders hunched, her hair bedraggled. Bram was in his usual black garb. His voice was soft… controlled. He directed his words to Decker.

“She’s suicidal. Can you please leave?”

Decker whispered to Marge to call for backup. Oliver placed himself at Decker’s side, but kept the door wide open.

Bram said, “Please, Lieutenant. A tragedy serves no purpose.”

The priest’s face held a sweaty sheen. Decker said, “I can’t leave you two alone, Father. Not as long as she has a weapon.”

Bram said, “Do you have an arrest warrant?”

“No.”

“Then please go.”

“Under these circumstances, I can’t. I’d be negligent in my duties if I did.”

“You’re hearing privileged conversation. You cannot use it against her. Because she wants a lawyer.”

Michael said, “Should I call Mr. Waterson, Bram?”

“No, don’t do that.” To Decker, Bram said, “Do you hear what I’m saying? She wants a lawyer. A real lawyer.”

“I understand.” Decker paused. “So she told you everything. Or maybe you figured it out after Decameron was murdered—”

“What difference does it make?”

Tears ran down Dolly’s face, her fingers gripping the gun. “They’re coming for me, aren’t they? They’re going to take me away—”

“Please, Lieutenant,” Bram was pleading. “If you won’t leave, at least don’t make matters
worse
.” He held his mother’s hands, pointing the gun away from her stomach. “Mom, I’ll take care of everything. I’ll take care of you. I’ll be there for you. You know that—”

“It’s too late,” she sobbed.

“No, it’s not too late. Never lose faith, Mom. You taught me that.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, you did. You taught me everything. You taught me that our Savior died for our sins. So that we may remember Him in our time of need, and remember His eternal love for us. He loves all of us, Mom, sinners as well as saints. He loves
you
.”

Dolly was quiet. Decker’s hand moved imperceptibly toward his service holster. He undid the strap, his fingers tightening around the butt of the gun.

Bram said, “The commandments teach us to love our parents, both our physical parents and our Father in Heaven. I love you very much, Mother. We’ll go through this together. But first, you have to give me the gun—”

“The police know—”

“Shhh—”

“They know, Abram. They know!” Her watery eyes met Decker’s face. “I’m going to die!”

Bram said, “No one’s going to die—”

“It was all my fault—”

“Mom, it wasn’t anyone’s fault—”

“I wasn’t a good enough wife—”

“You were a perfect wife,” he cooed. “A perfect wife and a perfect mother. We all love you very, very much. Your pain is my pain. Please let me help you.”

“Why did he do this to us? Why did he do this to
me
?”

“I don’t know, Mom—”

“After all these years of devotion. I never strayed… not even in my heart. I never wanted anything else but to be a good wife to him.”

“You were a perfect wife.”

“Then why did he turn out
that
way?”

Oliver crept up behind Decker, whispered in his ear, “Backup’s coming.”

“Mom?” Michael said.

Dolly raised her eyes to her youngest son.

“Mom, I love you, too.”

Dolly didn’t answer.

Michael said, “Mom, please give Bram the gun. We’ll take care of you. Please.”

Dolly returned her eyes to Bram. “Why would he desire such a vile thing, Abram?”

Michael’s eyes were questioning. But Bram’s were full of understanding. “I don’t know why God makes people the way He does. We’re not meant to know.”

“Why did you give him your
blessing
, Abram?” Dolly blurted out angrily. “How could
you
, of all people, give him permission to sin so gravely?”

“I never gave him my blessing, Mom.”

“You gave him permission by saying it was healthy to fantasize. You told him it was okay—”

“Never, Mom.”

“That’s what he told me.”

“I never gave him permission to sin, Mom,” Bram said quietly. “I never gave him my blessing. What I did say is…”

He cleared his throat.

“I told him I’d love him no matter what path he felt he had to take.”

“By your acceptance, you encouraged him!” she said vehemently. “You encouraged him to sin and you damned him to hell! You damned
me
to hell!”

“I see that now,” Bram said gently. “I see I did the wrong thing. I see that this is all
my
fault—”

“Oh my beautiful golden boy!” She cried out, grabbing his hands, the gun resting between their digits. “My chaste, wonderful, precious son. He was so cruel to you.”

“Give me the gun, Mom. Just let go—”

“If
he
hadn’t sent you away, this never would have happened. You would have become a minister — a real servant of God — instead of a priest. You would never have left the true faith to worship idols and statues. You would have stayed with me, protected me from his evilness. Protected me as you’ve always done. Oh Abram, I should have seen so long ago what kind of man he was. He sent you away as surely as the Jews closed the door on the baby Jesus—”

“Mom, I left on my own accord—”

“No!” Dolly shook her head. “No, you didn’t. He sent you away!
Drove
you away with his harsh words and unforgiving disposition. And all the while he carried the gravest sin in his despicable heart.” Out loud she orated: “‘Let he who is innocent cast the first stone.’”

“Give me the gun, Mom.”

“Men are beasts,” she said fiercely. “They come to you with soft words and sweet promises, then snare you into their evil traps of lust and carnage, use you until you’re old and tired—”

“Mom—”

“He was evil, Abram. How could you give him your
blessing
?”

Slowly, Decker inched forward.

“I was wrong, Mom,” Bram purred. “Give me the gun.”

“Mom, please give Bram the gun,” Michael pleaded, stepping into the room. But Oliver grabbed his arm, pulled him back into the doorway. Decker took another step forward, his hand still tightly wrapped around the grip of his holstered gun.

Dolly liberated her left hand, stroked Bram’s face. She ran her hands through Bram’s long hair. The leonine mother grooming her cub.

“Ah, but how beautiful you are to me. So chaste and pure with the face and body of an angel.” Her smile turned into a sneer. “So unlike Lucas who wasted his attributes, wasted his life on whores and vices. Two faces, both the same, but so different. Jacob and Esau. You, devoting yourself to the service of God even if it’s in the wrong way.”

Tears streamed down Dolly’s cheeks. “How could you give him your blessing, Bram? How could you
do
that to me?”

“I was wrong.”

“Especially knowing what was in his heart. Seeing the filth and perversion in his lusts. Why?
Why?
How could you condone him?”

“I never condoned him, Mom. But forgiveness is another matter. Our Lord forgives us all of our grievous sins. Should we do any less to each other?” His voice was a hush. “Give me the gun, Mom. I’ll take care of you.”

“William said he’d take care of me,” Dolly snapped angrily. “Look what he did, the stupid, stupid fool. Look what happened! Men are
beasts
!”

“Let’s not think about him now, Mom.”

“William knew of your father’s filth. Your father told him one day… blurted it out with pride. Then William told me, planted evil in my heart—”

“I know, Mom. It was his fault. Give me the gun.”

To Decker, she said, “That’s the monster you should be arresting. Not us,
him
!”

Decker nodded. William Waterson — the man who had been hanging around the house, painting himself as a family friend, and mysteriously visiting bikers with big checks drawn from Dolly’s account. A quick call to Farrell and his computer had verified that plus a few other interesting things.

Just how much was Waterson involved in this mess? Did he orchestrate the whole thing?

Decker regarded Dolly intensely. Her eyes were rolling and unfocused, her mouth slightly agape, tiny rills of drool amassing at the corners. Her body held a slight twitch. Unnatural. As if on strong, strong medication. Too zonked out to plan something like murder on her own.

She must have had help. Once she had been a user. Maybe Waterson had known about the addiction. Prodding her along, keeping her dazed and confused, because the lawyer had had a vested interest in keeping Dolly’s checkbook open for consumption.

The woman wept. “Oh my cursed life. And all I ever wanted to be was a good wife.”

She squeezed Bram’s hands with both of hers, the hard gun between them pressing deep into her fleshy palms. Decker took a step toward them.

“William sowed evil in my soul, Abram,” she continued. “He used the anger in my heart for his own wretched purposes. He enticed me to do evil… like Eve did unto Adam. He swore sweet words of God and everlasting love. William is a vile, vile man. Abram, I swear I never meant for anyone to die—”

“Mom,” Bram said quietly, “if you love me… if you want me to help you, please, please, give me the gun.”

“Don’t leave me, Abram.”

“Never.”

“Don’t ever go back to Rome.”

“It’s not even a consideration,” Bram spoke soothingly. “I’ll stay here and be with you. We’ll work things out. But first you have to give me the gun.”

Decker crept closer, looked over his shoulder. Oliver gave him the thumbs-up sign. Backup had arrived.

Dolly said, “You won’t go back to Rome? You’ll be here with me?”

Bram said, “For as long as you need me.”

“Forever?”

“Yes, forever and ever,” Bram whispered. “Let go of the gun, Mom. Just loosen your grip…”

Decker saw the priest’s slender fingers working their way into his mother’s hold on the gun, prying her hand from the grip.

“That’s a good girl,” Bram encouraged. “Just relax your hand.”

Slowly, he managed to wriggle his fingers around the weapon, extracting the gun from her with much deliberation. As soon as he freed it from her grasp, he placed it on the floor, gently pushing it toward Decker’s direction. Kneeling, Decker retrieved the semi and took out the magazine clip. For the first time, he realized how wet his hands were, face and body drenched with sweat.

Bram held his mother’s hands. As he stood, he brought her up from the chair.

“I love you, son,” she said, crying.

“I love you, too.”

“You’ll never leave me?”

“Never.”

“You’ll stay with me forever?”

“Yes, Mom, I’ll stay with you forever.”

“But what will happen when they come for you, Abram? When those idol-worshiping bishops call you to Rome?”

“I won’t go, Mom. I won’t leave you.”

No one spoke.

Bram inched his mother forward. “We have to go to the police now, Mom. We’ll get you a very good lawyer. Then you and he can talk about Mr. Waterson… what he told you, what he did.”