The Rock 'N Roll Detective's Greatest Hits - a Spike Berenger Anthology (22 page)

“You want to blow my cover so soon?” she asked.

“What cover? You went in, asked questions, and never said you were a private investigator, right?”

“Right.”

“So you never had a cover. You just didn’t say what you really are.”

She shrugged. “Okay, Spike, you’re the boss.”

They grabbed a taxi and went west and down to 44
^th
Street and Tenth Avenue. Suzanne noted that the sign in front of the church now read “Tonight’s Message – The Sacrifices You Make.”

Upon entering the building, Suzanne gestured to the office window and said, “The reverend’s wife is in there.” Berenger saw Mrs. Ramsey at the typewriter and waved at her. She stood and opened the sliding window.

“Hello, may I help you?” she asked. She then recognized Suzanne and said, “Hello there! Nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Mrs. Ramsey,” Suzanne said.

“Good afternoon. I’d like to see Reverend Theo, please,” Berenger said.

“May I ask what this is in reference to?”

Berenger gave her his card. “I’m investigating the death of Peter Flame. I have a few questions for the reverend.”

Mrs. Ramsey’s eyebrows went up when she saw the card. “But we’ve already spoken to the police. Several times.”

“I’m not the police, ma’am. I’m a private investigator, hired by Adrian Duncan’s defense team. Your husband doesn’t have to talk to me but I would greatly appreciate a few minutes of his time.”

The woman looked at Suzanne and frowned. “Does that mean…? You…?”

“Yes, Mrs. Ramsey, I’m a private investigator, too.”

The woman made a sour face and muttered, “Brenda was right…” She stepped to the desk and picked up the phone. After a moment she said, “Reverend, there’s a private…no, there are
two
private detectives here. They’d like to speak to you about Flame.” She listened and nodded. “Very well.” She hung up and addressed Berenger and Suzanne. “Go upstairs to the first office on the left. The reverend will give you a few minutes.”

“Thank you very much,” Berenger said.

Mrs. Ramsey closed the sliding glass window a bit too roughly as they walked toward the stairs.

“I guess I won’t be going to any services now,” Suzanne whispered.

“Maybe you lucked out,” Berenger replied.

When they reached the second floor, Reverend Theo was standing in his office doorway.

“Oh, hello there,” he said. “I recognize you, sir. You were at the will reading.”

“Spike Berenger, with Rockin’ Security.” Berenger held out his hand and the men greeted each other. “This is my partner, Suzanne Prescott.”

“Miss Prescott I’ve already met,” the reverend said. “Come inside my office.”

It was a small room. Berenger was unprepared for the intensely violent religious iconography that adorned the reverend’s office. Along with several bloody paintings of Christ’s torment, much of the room was made up of books pertaining to the world’s religions. No electric lights illuminated the place; instead, the reverend had lit several candles. One of them, on the reverend’s desk, sat next to what appeared to be a human skull. Berenger thought he was entering the study of a medieval wizard.

“Please sit down,” the reverend said, gesturing to a small sofa beneath a particularly gruesome portrait of Mary holding the bloody body of her dead son.

“As I told your wife, reverend, you’re under no obligation to talk to us,” Berenger said. “But in the interest of fair play and justice, we’d like to speak with you about Flame.”

“I understand,” Reverend Theo said. He gave them his trademark bright smile. “I’ll be happy to help any way I can.” The musicality of his Jamaican accent filled the room as he wagged his finger at Suzanne. “You deceived us the other day, didn’t you, my child?”

“I certainly didn’t intend to,” she said. “No one ever asked me if I was a private detective. If they had I would have told the truth.”

“Hmmm,” the reverend said, still smiling. He chuckled slightly and said, “I suppose I’ll have to believe you. Now then, what would you like to know?”

Berenger said, “I’d be interested in learning how Flame came to be involved with the Messengers. How did he meet you? What brought him to you, or did you approach him?”

The reverend sat behind his desk and said, “It was Brenda Twist who brought him to us. When was it? I believe it was January 2000, just after the new millennium. As you probably know, Mister Flame had spent much of the year in rehabilitation for drug addiction. He met Miss Twist there, for she, too, had a problem with substance abuse for a while. She was already one of our sheep and had unfortunately suffered a relapse due to the death of her mother. She was able to find the strength of Jesus Christ and build herself back up to his graces once again. You’d have to speak to her, but I believe she simply got to know Flame in the clinic and convinced him that her path was right for him as well.”

“If you’ll pardon me, reverend, but I’ve known Flame for over twenty years and I simply find it hard to believe that he would ever ‘find religion’ in this way,” Berenger said. “We’re talking about a hardcore rock ‘n’ roll superstar who always did things the way he wanted to do them.”

The reverend nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. When Brenda first brought Flame to one of our services, he was extremely skeptical and standoffish, as most people are who don’t want to believe. But he returned to the next service. And the next, and the next. It wasn’t long before he was a convert and we welcomed him into the fold. A visible change came over him and one night in early 2000 he made a pledge of $5,000 to the Messengers and joined the group.”

“Was he dating Miss Twist by this time?”

“I believe he was. If I recall correctly, they were already living together at Mister Flame’s townhouse in the Village.”

“Tell us about the retreat new members go on, the one in Jamaica.”

The reverend smiled again. “It’s a lovely event. We take new members to our founding church outside of Ocho Rios on the north shore of the island. It’s beautiful there. You have the deep-blue Caribbean to look at, the sound of nature all around you, and the spirit of God at your side. Usually the retreat lasts a week, but sometimes we extend them if we need to.”

“Why would you ‘need’ to?” Berenger asked.

“Sometimes God is busy elsewhere in the world and doesn’t join us until after a few days have passed. We stay until Jesus has touched the heart of every new member.”

“How do you know when He’s done so?” Suzanne asked.

The reverend looked at her like a schoolteacher gazes upon a student who has just asked a stupid question. “We just know,” he replied.

“And what goes on at these retreats?” Berenger asked.

“We study the Bible and we pray. We sing and we praise the Lord. We bring out the love of Jesus and we share it amongst ourselves.”

Pretty ethereal stuff, Berenger thought. Time to move on.

“Reverend, I understand you’ve been in prison and were charged with murder at one time.”

The silver smile immediately disappeared. The man looked away as he considered the question. When he looked back, Berenger could see the anger in the reverend’s eyes.

“I was once a sinner. We are all sinners and I am no exception. I was fortunate to find the true path after my transgressions. When Jesus came and walked beside me one night, everything changed. I converted and never looked back at my evil past.”

“So you created the Messengers.”

“I didn’t ‘create’ the Messengers. The Messengers have always existed. I simply brought the group to a physical plane of existence and provided a forum for us to communicate with God. You’d have to attend our services to fully understand.”

Berenger was convinced the man was a nutcase. “Reverend, did you encourage Flame to leave so much money to the Messengers in his will?”

“Of course not, and I resent the implication.”

“Reverend,” Suzanne said. “Tell us about Mister Black. The limo driver?”

“Ron Black? He’s a valued member of our organization. He does much more than drive a limousine.”

“I understand it’s Flame’s limo,” Berenger said.

“Yes, it is. Flame allowed us to use it all the time while he was alive. I’m certain that he would approve us using it now. Mister Black was Flame’s driver since 2001, you know.”

“Yes, we know.”

“He had worked for the Messengers prior to his employment as Flame’s driver. Sadly, after Mister Flame’s death, Ron had nowhere to go. We took him back. He’s a capable man. We couldn’t do without him.”

“What happens if Carol Merryman or Joshua Duncan want the limo returned?” Berenger asked.

The reverend shook his head. “They won’t.” The man looked at his watch and said, “I’m afraid I must attend to other matters now. I hope I’ve sufficiently answered your questions.”

“We appreciate your time,” Berenger said.

“You’d like to speak to Miss Twist?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll send her in. Please stay seated.” He got up and left the room.

“Doesn’t this place really creep you out?” Suzanne whispered.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Look,” she said, pointing to the bookshelf. There were over a dozen books on black magic, voodoo, and witchcraft.

Berenger shrugged. “He
is
from Jamaica.” But he wondered… was this a holy man or a wicked one? And could there be a connection between the Messengers and the Jimmys?

After a moment, Brenda Twist stepped inside. Berenger stood but she said, “Sit down. I don’t want to talk to you but I will since Reverend Theo asked me to.” She looked at Suzanne and said, “And you, you’re a terrible person. May Jesus spit on you.”

Suzanne was shocked. “I’m sorry, Miss Twist, but I never deceived you. And frankly, I don’t think Jesus would ‘spit’ at anybody.”

Brenda sat in the reverend’s chair. “I don’t believe you’re qualified to know what Jesus would do or not do. What do you want to know?”

Berenger decided not to pull any punches. “I’d like to hear your take on how and why Flame, after twenty-five years of sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll, would convert to an extremist religious cult.”

Brenda’s eyes went wide. “We are
not
a cult!”

“Okay, you’re not a cult. How did Flame become so interested in it?”

“Flame and I became friends in a medical clinic.”

“A rehab center.”

She glared at Berenger. “Yes, that’s right. If you must know, I was a heroin addict at one time. I’m not proud of it. The devil had hold of me and it took the love of Jesus to break us apart. The same thing happened to Flame. We became… close… as we recovered. When we got out of the clinic, I brought him here. These people are my family. They became his family as well.”

“You’re saying he simply bought in to the Messengers’ rhetoric and converted?”

“That’s right. The retreat in Jamaica solidified it.”

Suzanne asked, “I’d like to hear your version of what happens on these retreats. How do you decide when a new member is worthy to go?”

“A congregate must show serious intention of becoming a Messenger and contribute tangibly so we can do God’s work.”

“You mean, congregates must give money to the organization.”

“If you put it like that, yes. We see it as a sacrifice. An offering.”

“So they go on this retreat. What happens then?”

“We pray and study the Bible. We become one with God and Jesus.”

Same party line. He wasn’t going to get anywhere like this. Berenger chose to change the subject.

“I’d like to ask you about your whereabouts on the night Flame was killed. How come you weren’t with him?”

She rolled her eyes. “I told the police this a million times.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear it too.”

“Why, so you can place some doubt in the jury’s mind about Flame’s killer? Adrian
murdered
his father and there’s nothing you can do to change that.”

“Please, Miss Twist. Just tell us about that night.”