House Infernal by Edward Lee (24 page)

The priest's remark set Venetia's mind at ease ... but
not all not all the way.

Then Dan said, "But atheists have a point when they
condemn the mysteries of faith as a cop-out."

Driscoll shrugged. "They think what they want, we
think what we want. And speaking of mysteries"-he
shot Venetia an odd look-"why exactly have you insisted
we go to your bedroom."

"Just .. wait and see," she said.

When they got to the end of the hall, she led them all
into her room.

"How bizarre!" Mrs. Newlwyn exclaimed.

They all saw it at once.

"Oh, yes," Driscoll recalled. "You mentioned knocking
your lamp over-"

"It gouged the plaster," she said, "and I saw a few letters. So-"

"Curiosity urged you to scrape off the rest," Dan said.

"Yeah."

Eosphorus. The word stood out on the plasterless brick
beneath the gouge.

"Who could've done this?" Mrs. Newlwyn asked.

"Tessorio, no doubt," Driscoll answered.

The tall woman continued, "And isn't it interesting that
he would hide this word beneath the plaster of this room of the prior house and also write the word in the corresponding corner of his sketch."

Silence seemed to collapse on the four of them. They all
looked at one another.

Driscoll said, "It's probably nothing but- Dan, get a
hammer and a putty knife."

"Great idea," the seminarist said and excitedly left the
room.

The room that would correspond to the word ashshaytan was an empty bedroom. Dan met them there in a
minute.

"Do I get the honors?" he asked.

"Go right ahead."

The hammer smacked the newly painted corner. The
plaster fell out quickly, and after a few scrapes of the
putty knife ...

"How do you like that?" Dan said.

Ash-shaytan, read the bare brick.

And in the room that corresponded to the third comer
of the drawing-Dan's bedroom-the words Lux Ferre,
were revealed after a few more hammer blows.

By then it was no surprise when they found the word
Iblis beneath the plaster of the fourth comer room.

Driscoll pinched his chin in thought. "Four names for
Satan in the four corners of the house, and they also appear on four different comers of that sketch ..

"So what should we make of this?" Venetia asked. "It
really is strange."

"And unnerving!" Mrs. Newlwyn added. "How appalling for a priest to write such words in a religious
building."

"You know what I think?" Dan asked, eyes wide, as if
to make a revelation. "I think it's just a bunch of devil-cult
bullsh-BS."

"Though I can't say I agree with Dan's choice of
words, ' Driscoll said, "I do agree with his conception of
this. It's part of human nature to hunt for intriguing mysteries but nine times out of ten, there's no intrigue at all."

"So there's no real significance to these words being
here," Mrs. Newlwyn ventured, "and also being on the
drawing?"

"I don't think so."

A thought came to Venetia. "But isn't it at least possible
that this might be connected to the murders that happened here? Satanic cults have been known to use murder
as part of their rituals."

"Satanic cults are rarely serious, Venetia," the priest explained. "They consist of disgruntled youth and other
misguided folk."

"Just looking for a new way to party," Dan added.

"Right. New Hampshire isn't exactly a haven for that
sort of thing."

"No, but it was three hundred years ago," " Venetia said.

Mrs. Newlwyn added, "And remember that there's a
Salem, New Hampshire, just as there's a Salem, Massachusetts, and both have histories of witchcraft and devil
worship."

Driscoll smiled and held up his hand. "I think that's
stretching it a bit. It's all a cliche these days, Mrs. Newlwyn. I don't think I've ever heard of any Satanic cults
operating in New Hampshire, and as for those regrettable murders? They were committed months ago. Tessorio died in the seventies. It's impossible for there to be a
connection."

Venetia was inclined to agree.

They all looked to the window at the sudden sound of a
car horn.

Dan peered out. "Looks like a limo from the diocese ...
with a monsignor's flag."

A fretful expression lengthened Driscoll's face. "It's
that late already? I promised the monsignor I'd play golf
with him!" Then Driscoll rushed out.

"How's that for church business?" Dan said. "And any
time you play a monsignor, you have to lose on purpose."

They all went to the stair-hall rail and watched amusedly as Father Driscoll huffed across the atrium and out
the front door, his golf clubs clattering on his back.

"Hey, where's Betta?" Dan asked. "I haven't seen her
all day."

"She's out helping John with the hedges," Mrs. Newlwyn said.

That might not be all she's helping him with. Venetia kept
the thought to herself.

"I better round her up to help me with the laundry."

"And I guess Dan and I will be spending the next few
hours fixing the holes we just knocked in the walls,"
Venetia said.

"Piece of cake," Dan promised.

Mrs. Newlwyn made for the stairs. "See you both at
dinner. It's hotdogs and beans night!"

As she and Dan meandered down the hall, Venetia was
still at odds with the disturbing dream last night that
seemingly told her the definition of the word Eosphorus
and where it was located. I saw it beforehand and forgot, she
told herself yet again. Those nightmares about the voice simply confused me.

It was the only thing that made sense, but why didn't
she feel convinced?

Then they headed downstairs to get the plaster and
paint.

"It's just creepy," Venetia commented, scanning
around, "knowing that over thirty years ago Tessorio was
hiding little homages to Satan in a prior house that he
built specifically for the Catholic Church."

"Same as Black Mass in the Middle Ages," Dan said. "It
was all done in secret. These congregations of heretics had
to hide their reverence to the devil or else be hanged and
burned at the stake."

"Do you think he did it in other buildings he constructed for the Vatican? All those beautiful churches and
rectories?"

"It depends on when he lost his faith but sure, it's possible."

Another glance over her shoulder showed her the brooding portrait of the previous prior, Father Whitewood. He
seemed to scowl at her as she descended the stairs.

"But as much as Driscoll steps on my tail, he's right
about a lot of things. The devil-worship cults of today are
just people who're screwed-up in the head, or looking for
identity because they're social misfits, or-as in Tessorio's case-looking for a more flamboyant excuse to get
drunk, take drugs, and have orgies. None of it's very serious at all."

Venetia half-smiled. "What about Lucifer's wings
burning as he fell from Heaven? When you're a priest,
what will you say if some kid in your congregation asks
about it?"

"I'll say the same thing Driscoll said. It doesn't matter
if it really happened or not. All that matters is God's
word."

"And the figurative versus the literal?"

"Same thing. Do I really believe that a woman named
Eve plucked an apple off the Tree of Knowledge and took
a bite after God said not to? It doesn't matter. It's got
nothing to do with how we live our lives and stay on the
Holy Spirit's path."

Venetia wondered. Did it make actual sense, or was it
just a bunch of hip Holy Roller talk?

Downstairs they began to cross the atrium toward the
dropcloths, where the supplies sat.

"So you're not even a little creeped out by the fact that
these two Catholic women-a nun and a clerical
assistant-were murdered in this building only a few
months ago?"

"No," he said at once, then paused. "Well, sure. A little."

"Then why couldn't a ritualistic cult have existed?
Formed by Tessorio all those decades ago, and carried on
by followers today?"

Dan grabbed some cans while Venetia grabbed some
brushes and a trowel. "It's too far-fetched, Venetia. The
state cops already investigated. It was probably a botched
burglary by dope addicts. They broke in-"

"And then the two women surprised them."

"Right. Then the perps freaked out and killed them so they couldn't be identified. It's a commonplace crime
these days-this one just doesn't seem so because a nun
was involved. The state police are convinced that the
murders were random and not cult-related."

A man's voice startled them. "But that's not necessarily
the opinion of the local police."

Venetia almost dropped her brushes. She and Dan eyed
the stocky, goateed man in the sports coat standing across
the atrium.

"Who are you?" Venetia asked.

The man smiled. "The local police." He flashed a badge.
"Captain Berns. I'm with the Rockingham County Sheriff's
Department, and I'd like to ask you a few questions...."

Guess I scared the shit out of them, Berns surmised. "The
door was wide open so I stuck my head in and heard you
two talking."

The other two introduced themselves. The guy, Dan
Holden, had a straitlaced look on the outside but Berns
sensed a touch of the smart aleck on the inside. He had a
Roman collar but when Berns addressed him as Father,
the guy laughed and said, "Oh, no, please don't call me
that. I won't be a priest for another year." Whatever, Berns
thought. The blonde, Venetia Something-or-other, was all
business behind the eyes and-Jesus, what a bod. And
stacked ... Berns didn't get the clothes, though: sneakers
with a black skirt like girls wore at private school, and a
blouse knotted up to show her bare stomach. She said she
was a theology student, of all things.

"I heard this place was reopening," Berns told them,
"so I came up." He looked around and tried not to frown.
What a mess, he thought as he surveyed the drop cloths,
paint cans, ladders, and covered furniture. He wasn't
even sure exactly what a prior house was. "I understand
that the guy in charge here is a Father Christopher
Driscoll. Is he around?"

"Did you see a big black mafia-looking limo pull out of
here a minute ago?" Dan asked.

"Yeah, at the end of the driveway."

"That was him, on his way to the golf course," the
blonde said.

Berns looked at Dan. "So when he's not in, you're in
charge?"

Dan chuckled. "From the church end, I guess you could
say that, but the only thing I'm in charge of is cleaning up
this dump."

Berns felt for him. Impulse kept tempting him to steal a
glance at Venetia's cleavage. Damn! "Well, I really need to
talk to someone who knew any of the previous staff. You
know-last March, before the murders."

"That would be me then," Dan offered. "I knew everybody. Not very well, but-"

"Did you know the two women who were murdered?"

"Lottie Jessel and Patricia Stevenson-yes. And when I
say I knew them, I mean I knew them enough to say hello
to them. I was kind of like the diocese's errand boy. I'd
drive up here once a month to fill Father Whitewood's
supply orders."

"The guy who used to run the place..."

"Yeah."

"And then disappeared," Venetia added.

Berns nodded. "The state police talked to him, though.
He didn't have anything to do with the murders, but he
had sort of a-"

"Complete trauma-triggered mental breakdown?" Dan
cut in.

"That's pretty much the case." Well, this could be worse,
Berns thought. "Would it be too much trouble to ask you
to come down to the county sheriff's station in town?"

Dan wavered. "I ... guess not. Why?" He grinned.
"Should I be getting uncomfortable?"

"No, no," Berns laughed. "We've apprehended another
suspect. I'd just like you to take a look at her, see if it's
someone you've ever seen up here before..

"Sure." Dan tapped the blonde on the shoulder. "Why
don't you come along, too? You haven't been to town yet."

"I guess the wall repairs can wait," she said.

Then they all went outside and got into Berns' unmarked car. Wall repairs? Berns wondered.

Dan let the blonde ride up front, which only teased
Berns more. Stop looking at her boobs! Berns told himself.
I'm a cop for God's sake!

It wasn't easy; she was that attractive.

"So, Captain," she inquired just as he was pulling off.
"You said you've apprehended another suspect?"

"Yes. Last night-"

"And it was a woman?" Dan asked next.

"Correct. Susan Maitland."

"Never heard of her," Dan said. "And I'm sure no one
by that name ever worked at the prior house, at least for
the time I was going up there."

"It's probably an assumed name. We get a lot of drifters
in port towns. They're sweating warrants in other states,
or they get tired of raising their ten kids in the trailer so
they just leave, abandon them. Not saying that's the case
here. I just need someone from the prior house to take a
look at her."

Venetia turned toward Berns. "Isn't it unusual for a
woman to be a suspect in a murder case like this?"

"Oh, yeah, but it happens."

"And you referred to her as another suspect...."

"A guy got busted several nights ago. He'd made it all
the way up to Maine before they got him. That's two
we've got now, but we believe there were three perpetrators, and you can call it a hunch, but I'm pretty sure the
third one hasn't left town either."

Venetia cast an alarmed look back at Dan.

Oh, come on, give me a break! I'm trying to drive! Whenever Venetia turned to look out the window, Berns caught
her breasts in the passenger-side rearview. "But it's kind
of interesting, what you and Dan were talking about
when I walked in."

"What? Devil cults?" Dan said, laughing.

"Right," was Berns' simple reply.

The silence left Dan and Venetia to stew. Finally Venetia ventured, "You mean the murders were part of a cult
activity?"