The Fourth Life: Chapter 52

Kathleen Finn could not sleep.  She lie awake, turning in her bed, rustling the sheets with her movements.  In her mind, the memories of losing her own child, 40 years before, plagued her, bringing her to a realization:  her plan had cost another woman a child.


It did not help that she secretly watched from a distance as The Mannings buried their daughter.  She had overheard a conversation, innocently enough, at a flower shop, and discovered what was to happen that day.  And, try as she may, she was drawn there, to witness it, and later, regretted it.  The pain in the parents' faces, especially the mother, Blair Manning, was more than she could bear.  Her selfish plan brought death to that baby.  She could not shake it.


They hadn't seen her; she was behind several trees a distance away, but could see and feel the pain.  It reminded her so much of her own lost baby, that she had to turn and go.  Incognito at the time, she had flounced off in her short spring jacket and Jackie-O glasses, and returned to the car where Mac was waiting.


She turned to the side of her, and saw him.  Once, she could not keep her hands off his sleek, muscular form.  Now, he made her skin crawl when he wasn't scaring her to death.  He had changed, or, was he always this man?  Either way, they were not where they were six months before.  He was sleeping, arm twisted under himself, and she was staring.  She tried to imagine what her baby would have looked like at three, seven, fifteen, thirty, today.  Put it out of your mind, and rest.


She closed her eyes, hoping to get some shuteye.  Even though it was already nine in the morning, she had not slept a wink.


***


John threw his papers on to the table in the interrogation room, and a novice cop came in, saying, "Lieutenant?  Who do you want us to bring in first?"


"Are they all here, at once?"


"Uh, no sir."


"Then why ask me that?"


"I, well, I just thought that in case they all showed up, then you could tell me who you wanted to see first, right?"


 "How long have you worked here?"


"A day and a half.  If you count today."


"Officer, please go.  I'll be happy if you bring whoever gets here first."  John perused his folder again, reviewing the questions he wanted to ask the suspects.  Of course, he could arrest no one at this point; there was no proof of any wrong doing on anyone's part.  He flipped through the papers: Blair Manning, Patrick Thornhart, Zeus Zelenko, Tea Delgado, Marty Saybrooke, Timothy Broderick.  Until the latter, it sounded like a 90s convention.  He wondered who would show up first, and if he would get anything from any of them that would bring him any closer to his goal of finding Hesser's murderer.


The door pushed open, and in walked Marty Saybrooke, in police custody.  She sat down opposite him, and said, "I'm a suspect?"


"Sort of.  I really was hoping for you to shine some light on either event.  If you can, start with the shooting at the courthouse."


She began to talk, "You were there, so you know most of it.  I just remember hearing that nun shout out, and then Tea, I think, screamed, and then the next thing I knew, Todd was kneeling on the floor next to Blair, and she was bloody and pale.  I didn't see much else."


"Did you notice anyone suspicious, or running to or from the area?"


"No one."


"Where were you on March 25?"


"At St. Anne's.  You know I can't leave there."


"You're not supposed to, no."


"Well, the 25th was a special mass for visiting sick children.  I am positive of that, and there were many people there with me, who saw me there."


He made some notes in his folder.  "Okay.  Can I ask you to come and notify me, any time, if you remember something about the shooting?  We're also trying to locate the person who killed Sommer Manning."


"It's very sad.  I promise to let you know if something comes up."  She gathered her purse together and headed out.  


"Well, McBain, one down."


***


She was standing in a courthouse, everyone in the place was dressed in black with white wigs.  She was in handcuffs, and a large, black pot was boiling in front of her.  "She's the murderer," a voice said, and then hundreds of whispers repeated it.  "Murderer, murderer."


She looked around her for someone familiar, a face, but there was none.  The judge took a large gavel and said, "You killed a child!  The worst offense a person can have against their soul," and slammed the gavel down repeatedly.  The sound was deafening; she wanted to cover her ears but couldn't because her hands were chained.  The judge yelled, "Into the pot!  Boil in oil, for what you have done!"


Before her appeared Blair Manning, or what she could make of her.  Never having met her face to face, she had only the outline of her, and her face was not clear.  Blair said, "Kill her.  She made my baby die."


She was dragged by the two guards on either side of her, and when she got closer, she looked into the pot, and saw the bodies of little babies...


She woke, and a scream was lodged in her throat, as she sat up.  Mac sat up, and said, "What's the matter?"


She looked at him, and saw a stranger.  She said, "Nothing.  It was a nightmare."


He said, "It's ten in the morning."


"All right, it was a daymare," she fell back against the pillows.  Without realizing, her breast had fallen a bit out of her top, and he looked at it, then back to her face.  He moved toward her, to touch her, and she brushed his arm away.


"You don't want me anymore,"  he said.      


"I don't want anything.  I can't sleep.  I killed that baby.  I may as well have done it with my own hands.  I made the plan, I sent you to Carlo, I did this.  All of it."


He thought, and seemed angry with her.  "You won't let me touch you.  Maybe there's another reason."


She said, "Mac, stop this."


"Are you pining for Hesser?  Now that he's dead?"


She had never thought of that, even for a moment.  When she searched her heart, she could not answer.  Instead, she said, "You're crazy," and attempted to throw the covers off and leave the bed.  He grabbed her arm.  She looked at him wildly, and said, "Don't talk about him, ever.  Let go of me."


He said, "You fucked him, didn't you?  In the basement of the jail.  You fucked that old, disgusting excuse for a man, and now you can't get over him."


"Stop it!" She slapped him, and the sound echoed against the walls of her bedroom.   


In return, he grabbed both her arms, and shook her.  "If you don't want me, why am I here?"


"Because you have nowhere to go.  You're a killer."


"You knew I was a killer when you first slept with me."


"Maybe.  But in war, who thinks of it this way?  You took a baby's life.  You took it from its mother."


"I never meant for that to happen, and you know that, Kath."


"Get away from me!"  She screamed, and scratched at his face.  His hand went to it, and seeing blood on his palm, he eyed her in the way only she understood.  


***


"Timothy, good to see you.  It's been quite some time."  John said, putting out his hand.  


The older man took it, and said, "Yes, Lad, it certainly has, with the exception of the funeral for the babe."


"Yes.  That was quite a sad day."


"T'always is, when a child passes on."  Timothy said, and his face was suddenly worn.


"I called you here about the shooting, and the Hesser murder."


"I'm sure I know nothing about that murder, but I was there for the shooting."


"Did you see anything?"


"Nothing much, I heard Creena yell, and I did look up.  I thought I saw a gun glinting, but then, it could have been anything."


"Where did you see the glint?"


"In the upper right of the balcony."


John wrote notes, then said, "Anything at all you can add?"


"Not that I know of."


"Where were you on the afternoon of March 25?"


"Home, most likely.  Studying for the bar.  Trying to get my license back to practice law.  Figured it might keep me off the sauce, make me do something positive for my life."


"Do you have any witnesses to that fact?"


"No, I live alone.  Eat alone.  Drink alone, too."


He wrote more, then said, "We both know you had reason to kill Hesser.  I mean, who didn't, right?"


"Right, but I didn't.  I wasn't near the hospital that day."


"How do you know?  How do you remember what day that was?"


"I just do.  I'm very good with dates, Lad.  I don't think I was there at all that week."


"I see.  All right.  Anything else you can tell me?"


"Not that I can remember, but if I come across something, I'll be sure to let ya in on it."  The older man left.


Something about Timothy Broderick's devil-may-care attitude was pulling John in a direction he didn't want to think about.  He was finalizing his notes, when a knock occurred at the door.  He got up, and opened it.  Blair was standing there, dressed in a pink short two-piece suit with a black top and black shoes.  "John, you wanted to see me?"


He heard himself say, "Yeah, Blair, I did.  Will you sit down?"


"Sure.  What's up?"


"I know this is going to be painful for you, Blair, but I have to ask you some questions."


"All right.  Is this about my baby's death?"


"Some of it is.  Are you up to talking about it with me?"


"Yes, I will do whatever it takes to help find the killer."


"I understand, and I feel the same.  Do you remember anything about the shooting?"  She dazed off into the distance.  He said, "Blair?"


She said, "No, nothing.  I was..." she was speaking in a dreamlike tone, "I was sitting there, my legs hurt, I wanted to stretch them.  Todd turned me, so they could be in the aisle more.  I..."


"Blair, are you all right?"


"Yes, I'm just trying to remember.  It hurts so much to think about it, John."  She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue from the box he had presented on the table.  "I was just sitting there, scared for Todd.  He was going to have to testify, and I was afraid for him."


"What happened then?"


"I was just. . .sitting there, feeling . . . pregnant . . .and then I heard Sister Rebecca Katherine."  She began to cry, "Oh God, she cried out, something, and then Tea screamed, and I heard the pops, the gun shots.  I saw Zeus go down," she sobbed, "And I didn't even know I was hit.  I don't know how that happened, but John, I didn't feel anything."


He was scribbling notes, and he said,  "I've heard of that before, not feeling anything.  It's all right, Blair." He tried to be comforting but knew he was falling short.


"The next thing, I was on the ground, and Todd was....oh, God, he was so scared.  I never see him scared.  And when he's scared, I know something is very wrong.  I felt the life....I felt her dying."


She broke down, and John put his hand on her arm.  "We can stop for today, Blair.  If that is better?"


She sniffed and pulled it together.  She said, "You know the rest."


"Did you see anyone strange, Blair?"


"I saw God coming down.  Through the skylight.  It's a thing Sam says when the rays come through the clouds.  That sentence saved Todd's life once."


He said, "Explain to me anything else you saw."


"I was lying on my back, and I saw God coming down, and...oh my God."


"What is it?"


"I saw an angel, John.  I never realized it.  Todd was frantic, he said that God was not coming down, and that I should look at him.  So I did, and behind his head, in the sky, was a black angel."


"A black angel.  Describe it."


"An angel in all black.  I think it was a male angel.  He was going up, that's all I can remember, things were fuzzy and fading around me, and behind Todd's head, in the sky, a black angel was going up into the ceiling, or it seemed like it.  I'm sorry.  The memory is so unclear."


"It's all right, Blair.  You're the first person to give me anything."


"I'm glad, I guess.  Not sure how much help that is."


"Every little bit helps.  Blair, when you were in the hospital, did you take walks?"


"Sometimes."


"Did you leave your floor?"


"Only a few times, I don't really remember.  With the drugs, the grief and the injuries, I don't remember much."


"Did you see Carlo Hesser in the hospital?"


She looked to her hands, and her demeanor changed.  "You're asking me if I killed Carlo.  I didn't."


"Were you in his room?"


"Not exactly."


He stopped, "You want to explain that?"


"I went by his room, I saw him.  I wanted to confront him for what he did to us, but he was unconscious, so I left."


"Did anyone see this?"


"I don't remember.  I don't remember much, John.  The whole thing was so horrific, I don't even remember most of my time there."


He wrote more notes and then said, "Blair, I want to talk to you again about all this, is that all right?"


"Sure.  I'm not going anywhere."


"I appreciate that."


"John, please find the person who killed my daughter."  She said, standing, and walked out.  


He looked at the door, grabbing his coffee.  "That's what I'm trying to do.  But what do I do about her mother?"


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