Purely F****** Sinful

Chapter 5

Fatigued and restless, Anthony's frustration reached its limit. He had been up all night, trying desperately to find some clue he had overlooked in Bridget's murder.

"There has to be something I missed, damn it!"

He had gone over all the documents and photos a million times. This time, however, he had more incentive than ever to crack the case. If he could somehow figure out who might have killed his wife Bridget, and do so before midnight, he could simply decline Angel's offer, and she would go away. Rather, he hoped she would stick to her word and disappear. He looked at the clock: 3:46 p.m. There wasn't much time before midnight.

The sudden knock on his apartment door startled Anthony. Who could that be? Hopefully not Angel, though she had already proved to be the type not to knock.

Looking through the peephole, Anthony saw someone he didn't recognize. A man about his age with a goatee and dark hair, wearing a black suit, waited patiently. The reversed collar and prayer beads dangling from his neck hinted at his calling. A priest maybe?

Anthony cautiously opened the door just a few inches. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"Good day, sir. I'm looking for Anthony Harvey. Is he around?"

"Who wants to know?" Anthony asked suspiciously.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners? My name is Father Thomas Corvenus. I am with the Congregation of the Holy Cross."

"Sorry, but I'm not looking to find God today," Anthony said coldly as he started to shut the door.

"Wait! Please, Detective Harvey! I think I have some information about the recent night club murder."

Curious, Anthony opened the door and invited the man inside. Father Thomas looked around and beheld a motley mess of police documents and gruesome crime scene photos. He fingered his prayer beads and mumbled something under his breath. The gruesome nature of the photos would unnerve anyone -- anyone except Anthony, who had unintentionally made it his home decor.

Father Thomas looked at a picture hanging on the wall of Anthony and Bridget on their wedding day. "Is she the one in the other photos?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes," Anthony said sternly. "I thought you had information for me?"

The priest shifted his focus back to Anthony. "Right. The news reports claimed you saw a woman in the room with the victim. Did you notice anything odd about her? For instance, did she have tattoos of large bat wings on her shoulders?"

Those were not tattoos of bat wings. Those were actual bat wings, and a long tail. However, the similarities were entirely too coincidental. Did this man know about Angel, and what she actually was?

"Sorry, but I didn't see any tattoos. Why do you ask?"

Father Thomas turned to Anthony. "The day of the murder, a young girl of great physical beauty came into my church for confession. She mentioned that she was about to do something horrible but never said what exactly. As she left, I noticed she had bat wing tattoos on her shoulders that covered most of her back. I thought maybe there was some kind of connection."

All those years as a detective had refined Anthony's ability to detect bullshit down to a fine art. This man was hiding something, and he wasn't a very good liar. He seen tattoos on her shoulders? That would mean she would have to have worn an open back dress or something else equally revealing. Who would show up in church like that? Not to mention, who would confess to something before actually doing it? It seemed too far-fetched for Anthony's taste.

Anthony's suspicions were further heightened by a small cross-shaped scar on the side of Father Thomas' neck. He wouldn't have noticed it if Father Thomas' collar hadn't shifted while looking around the room. No kind of accident leaves such a mark on one's skin. It had to have been done on purpose.

Nonetheless, this priest must know something about Angel. Was he one of the 'entities' that she mentioned she was trying to avoid? Anthony thought for a brief moment about disclosing what really happened. But then he also thought about what Angel said before she left. She would kill him if he said anything, and with her ability to read minds, there would be no hiding it. Best to play safe for now.

"Doesn't sound like a connection to me. She could have been about to cheat on her husband for all you know. Sorry, but I think you've wasted your time."

Father Thomas exhaled a deep sigh. "Perhaps. But God sent me to you this day, so it isn't a total loss. I know a great burden must weigh heavy on your heart, Mr. Harvey. Such burdens tend to lead men to do things they wouldn't normally do. The path to Hell is paved with good intentions, and desperation leads to the first step."

It was as if Father Thomas could see right through Anthony's facade. Maybe Anthony wasn't the only one with a bullshit detector.

"I appreciate you coming by, Father, but I have work to finish down at the precinct. If you find out anything else, don't hesitate to stop by."

"Sorry I couldn't have been more helpful." Father Gabriel reached into his pocket and fished out a business card. "If you are ever in need of my services, you can reach me here."

Father Thomas handed Anthony the card and walked out the door. Before Anthony shut the door, Father Thomas turned back toward him. "Remember my words, Mr. Harvey. They may save your soul someday."

Anthony twitched a quick nod and closed the door. He looked at the clock again: 4:27 p.m. Time passed much faster than he liked.

*****

In his desperation, Anthony went back to the precinct to find Matthew, the detective assigned to Bridget's case. He knew Matthew wasn't taking Bridget's murder seriously, but maybe by some miracle he had something he could use.

He was greeted by Priya, the very young and attractive blonde office assistant who worked behind the front desk.

"Detective Harvey! I didn't expect to see you this late in the day. Weren't you on leave for a while?"

"Yeah, I am. Just stopping by for something real quick. Have you seen Matthew leave yet?"

"No, I haven't. He should still be upstairs."

"Great, thanks."

Anthony quickly turned towards the elevator. "I'll miss you while you're gone, detective. Have a great day!" Anthony heard over his shoulder.

Priya was a sweet girl and somewhat flirty towards him -- which made him wonder if she had a crush on him. Not that he would act on it, of course.

Anthony got off the elevator and made his way to Matthew's untidy desk. Matthew was idly chatting with the other detectives.

"Hey, Anthony! What the hell are you doing here? Do you even know how to take a break?"

"I need to ask you something. In private," Anthony said.

"Sure thing." Matthew pushed up from his chair.

They walked to a coffee maker in a secluded corner. Matthew poured two cups of evil-smelling brew.

"So what's up?" Matthew asked, handing Anthony a chipped cup.

"Listen, it's been a while since we talked about Bridget's case. Any new developments?"

Matthew shook his head and put a hand on Anthony's shoulder. "I can't imagine what it is like to lose someone like that. I'm doing everything I can to make sure we catch the son-of-a-bitch."

Everything he can indeed, Anthony thought. When he's not wasting paper, he's chatting with everyone else about his golf game the previous weekend, or some girl he met at a bar. Anthony's anger got worse with each passing second.

"I asked if there were any new developments." Anthony raised his voice. "It has been two years Matthew, and I'm tired of everyone telling me how f*****g sorry they are!"

"Calm down, Anthony. You know just as well as anyone that these things take time."

Time was a luxury Anthony no longer had. He looked at the clock: 5:57 p.m.

"Yeah, time. Time that you are spending sitting on your f*****g ass!" Anthony's yell drew the attention of everyone in the room. They all stared at him -- perhaps hoping a fist fight was about to start.

Anthony may have lost his temper, and he may have wanted to punch Matthew in the face, but he wasn't stupid enough to lose his job over it. He stifled his anger.

What a f*****g waste of time. He backed away from Matthew and turned toward the exit. Better to leave now before Captain Bayer learned he was here making a fuss. Anthony hurried from the station.

*****

Whenever Anthony needed advice, he always consulted Bridget. Even in death, some things never changed. He arrived at Evergreen Cemetery with guilt weighing heavy on his heart.

It was 7:15 p.m. and the sun had started to set. Anthony stared down at the grave marked "Bridget Harvey". He placed a single red rose on the headstone. The base of the headstone was masked by a mangled pile of shriveled flowers, most of them roses.

"I miss you, Bridget," Anthony said, speaking as if she could hear him. "I miss the life we had together. Things were much happier and simpler then. Remember how you always used to make me a steak dinner whenever I had a bad day at work? You always knew the right things to say when I was feeling down or lost."

Anthony smiled, remembering the good times, but then a tear rolled down his cheek. "I feel like I might be lost forever without you. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to bring the one responsible to justice. You were so good to me, and yet I failed you as your husband."

His heart was broken. His hope lost. Only one thing remained.

"Please forgive me for what I'm about to do."

*****