In Testament: A Trilogy - Part Two

IN TESTAMENT - A TRILOGY

PART TWO

By

N. R. McCarthy

Copyright 2011 by N. R. McCarthy

Smashwords Edition

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Jack dialed his law office from his apartment.

`Hagar...this is Jack.’

`Hi, boss,’ she responded in her usual, good natured tone of voice.

`Hi, secretary.’

Jack was afraid to ask, and before he could pose the question to her, Hagar said, `No news media around today...Jack. Your luck is still holding out. But I don’t know how long it’s going to be that way. You must realize, there’s only so much I can do. Alas, there are no wild goose chases left, Jack. At least not any which I can think of right now.’

`Well, it shouldn’t matter after tomorrow, Hagar.’ There had been a noticeable air of glee in his voice.

`Oh...so you talked to the judge, right?’

`I certainly have, young lady.’

`Is the case going to work out, Jack?’

‘Yes, it is!’ the lawyer responded jubilantly. `And I couldn’t have written a better script ending, if I were a Hollywood writer. Angelica will plead guilty to voluntary manslaughter, and the judge will sentence her to a short period at a Massachusetts monastery.’

`That’s great news, Jack. Needless to say, I’m very glad for the nun. Yet I’m also very glad for us. Boss, this case has been wearing on me, too. You know, since you’ve taken on the nun’s case, life hasn’t been the same at home. I mean…with my over active kids and my poor husband…and the longer hours...not to mention the stress. Really, I don’t know how or why my husband puts up with me. I keep telling him that he should have divorced me years ago.’

The lawyer laughed. `Come on now…he’s got to be the luckiest man in the world.’

`He certainly is,’ she immediately said with a confident voice.

Jack laughed again.

`Hagar, we’re going to be pretty much back to normal after tomorrow...back to handling accident cases only.’

`That would be wonderful,’ readily agreed the legal secretary. ‘It’s boring stuff, I know. But I can live with it.’

`Hagar, please remind me never to take a case like this again. From now on, I’ll leave it for the younger lawyers. They have the emotional fortitude to get through a pressure cooker case like this one. I certainly don’t…not anymore. I’m just now realizing that.’ Jack paused. `For sure, I would have ended up with gray hair, if this case would have gone to trial. You know…for awhile there…I think I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Yep, this case really got to me.’

`Okay, I’ll remind you. But I’ll also deliver you a present to remind you.’

`Yeah, and what might that be?’

`Grecian Formula 99 or Just for Men,’ she cavalierly replied.

Both subsequently laughed.

`Hagar, you won’t have to go to those extreme lengths. I assure you.’ Jack chuckled. `Really, you won’t see me taking a case like this again, not for the rest of my life. Yep, when it comes to criminal cases, I’m completely retired after tomorrow afternoon.’

`So am I,’ Hagar chuckled.

`What a good person that Judge Silveira is.’

`Yes, he certainly is,’ readily agreed the legal secretary again.

Jack changed the subject. `Hagar, is anything important happening at the office today?’

`No, I’ve taken care of everything today. That includes returning all your office calls.’

`Well, aren’t we incredibly efficient today?’ the lawyer commented.

`Aren’t we?’ Hagar was quick to reply.

The two briefly laughed once more.

Hagar’s tone immediately changed, when she said: `Jack, I just remembered… there was one important message for you. It was from Sergeant Medeiros. He said he hoped to see you at Lieutenant Souza’s wake tonight. He said he had something to tell you. Boss, I hope that bit of news does not curb your current good spirits and enthusiasm.’

`Oh, gosh!’ exclaimed Jack. `I completely forgot about the lieutenant’s wake.’

`Are you going to the wake, Jack?’

`Yes, I am.’ There was a delay in the lawyer’s words. ‘You know…his mother and father must think it’s the end of the world right now. As I understand, they lived just for him all their lives, and now he’s gone forever. It’s another terrible tragedy, Hagar.’ Completely erased was Jack’s earlier euphoria, and now replacing that void was extreme guilt. Why didn’t I give Sergeant Medeiros better advice about the lieutenant? he now asked himself.

`Sorry about this, Jack. But I had to give you the message.’

`Hagar, you’re just doing your job.’

A silent pause followed.

`So you are going to the wake, Jack? I know how much they bother you.’

`Yes, I must go, Hagar. I need to…now more than ever.’ Jack, of course, understood that the lieutenant’s action in charging Sister Angelica with manslaughter only, as well as his tragic death itself, had played an important part in Judge Silveira’s thoughts and subsequent decisions concerning the case, and particularly its planned final disposition. For those reasons alone, Jack knew that he owed the deceased cop a debt of gratitude, which amounted to far more than final respects.

`Do you have the sergeant’s home telephone number?’

`I do.’ Jack’s tone had been depressed. `Hagar, why don’t you get out of the office early today? In fact, please leave right now?’

`But why, Jack? I have at least an hour left to get some work done. By the way, I’ve interviewed a new case for you today…so I want to at least get out the letters requesting the medical reports.’

‘Hagar, please don’t bother with them right now. I really want you out of there…as soon as possible.’

`But why, Jack?’ she asked again.

`Hagar…why run the risk of having the news media at our doorstep at a quarter past four? The news media still has the ability to screw up this case big time.’

`Okay, you’re the boss...boss.’

`Hagar, I just don’t want to push our luck. We’ve been very fortunate in avoiding the cameras so far.’

`Jack, I agree, and I can use the hour to do a little bit of shopping. My husband’s birthday is this Sunday. And in one of this week’s circulars, I spotted the table saw which he’s been hinting about.’

`Now see, Hagar, aren’t you glad that I’m cutting you loose early.’

`Yeah, I guess so.’ She paused. `Jack, can I ask you something about Sister Angelica’s case?’

`Yes, sure, what is it?’

`Boss...did she really do it?’

Jack delayed before responding to her direct question. `Hagar, as always, what I say to you concerning a client’s case is strictly confidential.’ He paused again. `Well, the short answer to your question is yes.’

`Maybe, I shouldn’t have asked, Jack.’

`However, Hagar, she really believed her beloved Roman Catholic Church was in great jeopardy. Also, I’m absolutely positive that what she did is a one time occurrence. Therefore, she does not pose any continuing threat to society.’

`I understand, boss.’

Although Hagar had said that she understood, Jack was sure that she didn’t, at least not completely. Yet Jack also knew that Hagar would continue to support Sister Angelica for the simple reason that he was now supporting her. Indeed, Hagar had always been extremely loyal in that way.

`Hagar, please leave the office now.’

`Okay, goodnight, Jack. And boss...don’t let the wake get you down.’

`I won’t.’ Shaking his head, the lawyer subsequently put down the telephone and thought: This day is certainly not a day for celebration. I guess life is always full of the good and the bad, the triumphs and the tribulations.

Suddenly, he felt very tired and very depressed. I need a nap. If I can get a little bit of sleep, I might be able to handle this wake. He took a deep breath.

First setting the alarm clock for 7:30 p.m., Jack then laid his head on the pillow and put his forearm over his eyes. A few minutes afterwards, he was fast asleep.

***

Before the alarm went off, Jack suddenly awoke, profusely sweating again. `It’s that damn dream again! It’s that damn crazy dream again!’ He closed his eyes and tried to recall the nightmare. Again, Jack saw Sister Angelica, Father John, Father Joseph, Mr. Alves, Joe Souza, and little Gabriel Bethany pointing accusatory fingers at him. However, this time, they all laughed at him as well. Then, suddenly, their laughing had turned to loud, screeching cries. He also saw the Notre Dame Church burning down to the ground. Furthermore, in a blur, he once more envisioned Sister Angelica bleeding profusely from her nose and mouth. Thank goodness dreams are not real. So I simply can’t let them get to me. That dream I had about Joe Souza was just a freak coincidence. It had to be. Yes, it had to be.

Sitting up in the bed, he rubbed sweat from his burning eyes. `I must get ready for that blasted wake. I’ll get there right after the priest recites the rosary.’

The time on his radio alarm clock currently read 7:20 p.m..

When Jack stood up, warm sweat ran down his body. He shook his head from side to side. He then clicked off the alarm and scurried for the shower, dripping sweat along the way.

The warm water from the shower was refreshing and helped settle his rattled nerves. I can deal with a little bit of depression. `However, I can’t handle that terrible recurring dream...not anymore!’ He suddenly realized: There were more people in my last dream. I just remembered that. What’s the symbolism there? Gosh, I just don’t know.

After exiting the shower, he told himself: `I need a shot.’ Yes, I need a shot of the good ole Irish whiskey. That will settle my nerves and make what I have to do a lot easier.

He poured the shot at the kitchen counter and sipped the whiskey there. The lawyer knew he still had plenty of time to dress.

After Jack had donned his black suit and black tie, the time was 9:02 p.m.. He then exited his apartment. He was just fifteen minutes away from the Reid Funeral Home.

Rounding the corner onto Western Avenue, Jack looked into his rear-view mirror; and he could not believe what he saw. Behind the car in back of his was a black hearse. `Son-of-a-bitch!’ Quite hard, he thereafter slapped his steering wheel.

Jack was completely fed up. Furthermore, he had decided that at the next red light, he would get out of his car and rush over to the hearse. Then he would throw open its driver’s door and find out who was shadowing him and why.

Approaching the next corner, Jack slowed his car to allow the green light to change red. And it did change red, three seconds before his car had reached the intersection; whereupon, he completely stopped his Volvo. The lawyer then jumped out of his automobile and ran toward the black hearse. However, the hearse immediately backed up and pulled into the next travel lane. First spinning its tires and leaving rubber, it then went through the red light and sped up the street. Also, in making its get-a-way, it came very close to hitting Jack. So close in fact, Jack had to jump out of the way. Hands first, he eventually landed on the tar pavement.

A few moments later, Jack slowly got up from the hard pavement. He thereafter took the next few seconds to brush himself off. However, when he touched his shoulders with his open hands, he felt pain. In hurdling himself out of the way of the speeding hearse, he had sustained abrasions to both hands. `Gosh darn it!’

Because it was dark, Jack couldn’t make out the identity of the hearse operator; but he could see it was a man.

Walking back to his car, Jack looked to the lady operator of the car which had abruptly stopped in back of his Volvo. She currently stared at him, with her mouth agape. Of course, she was quite afraid. When he passed by her open window, Jack winked and said, `Good evening, ma’am. A very nice night, isn’t it?’

Jack finally reached the funeral home, and he glanced at his wrist watch. The time read 9:19 p.m.. He suddenly felt very guilty once again. Perhaps, if I had given Sergeant Medeiros different advice, I would be elsewhere right now. Perhaps, I should also have told him about my dream concerning Joe Souza and his suicide? No…I’m sure Jim would have thought I was crazy. He shook his head.

The funeral home was full beyond seating capacity. Indeed, every seat was taken, and more people stood than were sitting. Of course, there were many uniformed police officers present.

The lawyer went directly to the casket room.

The coffin was closed. How could it be anything different? Jack asked himself. The man blew out his brains with a .38 magnum. That leaves very little for the imagination. Gosh, what could be left of his head? Thinking those macabre thoughts, Jack’s stomach had instantly churned.

Magnificent arrays of deeply scenting flowers surrounded the dark mahogany coffin.

Jack slowly knelt in front of the casket. Then, after closing his eyes, he clasped his hands together and silently prayed:

I’m certainly not religious...God. But please hear this prayer. Joe was a good man. He tried his very best. But life became too ponderous for him. Please understand his case...God. This man was a good Christian, who did his very best under extremely difficult circumstances. So he does not deserve to be an outcast. Dear God...please accept his soul...without reservation. Jack touched the top of the dark mahogany box with his open hand.

Jack thereafter stood up and turned his head to his left. He saw the lieutenant’s elderly mother and father. Their eyes were very red, obvious signs of their continual crying, Jack reasoned. To the immediate left of them, sat Sergeant Medeiros; and his eyes were in no better condition.

The lawyer soon moved in front of Mr. Souza and shook his hand. `I’m very sorry about your loss, sir,’ Jack softly said. ‘Your son was a good man.’

The old man nodded. He was still wide-eyed with his immense grief.

Jack did the same with Mrs. Souza. However, she softly cried, when the lawyer shook her hand and gently hugged her. Indeed, it had been very difficult for Jack to get out his words of condolence to her. His throat had felt like it had frozen solid.

After moving down the line, Jack shook Medeiros’s hand. `I’m very sorry for your loss…Jim. Joe was a true friend of yours. I also hope he considered me his friend as well.’ The sergeant’s eyes were very wet.

Sergeant Medeiros now stood up, and he whispered to the lawyer: `Jack, I need to talk to you outside...in a couple of minutes. Will you be there? It’s important.’

The lawyer immediately whispered back: `Jim, you know I’ll be there. However, do what you’ve got to do here first.’

`Jack, I must extend my final condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Souza.’

`Take your time, Jim. I’ll be outside.’

Medeiros nodded.

The attorney continued down the line of mourners, shaking hands; and one other face soon struck Jack as very familiar. It was the face of Judge Silveira. He sat at the very end of the line of chairs. A lady sat beside him. Jack knew she was the judge’s wife. He’d met her several times in the past, although not recently.

The judge and Jack now shook hands. A lone tear currently trailed down the left side of Silveira’s face.

`Jack, we must end this terrible tragedy...tomorrow.’

The lawyer nodded.

Instead of leaving the funeral home right away, Jack felt he had one other obligation to attend to this sad evening. Across the hall, he entered the wake of the deceased hearse driver, Mr. Alves. That sitting room was sparsely populated.

Subsequently, the lawyer solemnly paid his final respects to the man who was no longer a complete stranger to him. Of course, Jack was also sure to convey his condolences to the hearse driver’s widow.

Once outside the Reid Funeral Home, Jack leaned against the rail at the bottom of the cement stairway leading in and out of the funeral home.

A short while later, people slowly filed out. Both wakes were nearly over.

Next to Jack, on the bottom step, stood a man smoking a cigarette. The man unintentionally blew smoke into Jack’s direction, and the aroma immediately made Jack feel less tense.

`Hey, buddy, can you spare a cigarette?’ Jack asked.

‘Sure, I understand. I bummed this pack from my brother-in-law. Until now…I hadn’t smoked a cigarette in seven years. But with this tragic event, my nerves are more than a bit frazzled.’ From the coolness of the night as well as the cigarette smoke, the stranger’s breath had vaporized, when he inhaled and exhaled.

Jack nodded, and the man handed him a cigarette. The man also lit the cigarette in Jack’s mouth. However, the lawyer immediately coughed.

‘Actually, friend, I haven’t smoked a cigarette in more than twenty years.’ Jack had coughed his way through the sentence. `But my nerves are more than a bit strained as well.’ He thereafter looked away from the gentleman. Jack’s eyes were now very moist.

Another five minutes passed and the gentleman, who had given him the cigarette, had gone. At this point, there were three puffs left on Jack’s cigarette; and he took all of them in quick succession. He then crushed the cigarette butt under his foot.

Sergeant Medeiros subsequently descended the outside steps. `Jack, good buddy, thanks for waiting.’

The two walked to the far end of the parking lot to talk.

Sergeant Medeiros was the first to speak: ‘Wait until you hear what I’ve got to tell you, Jack.’

‘What is it, good buddy?’

‘Jack, I just heard about it an hour ago.’

‘What, Jim?’

‘Late this afternoon, the D.A.’s office dug up Gabriel Bethany’s grave to exhume the body. Apparently, they needed new blood and tissue samples...because, as you know, all the other samples had somehow disappeared. Well, when they dug up the little coffin…it was empty.’

‘What!’ yelled the lawyer.

‘That’s right, the altar boy’s body was gone...completely disappeared.’

‘Wow, that is incredible, Jim.’ The lawyer paused his words. ‘Jim, just who the hell could do this…steal that little boy’s body?’

‘Good buddy, I don’t have a clue.’

‘Jim, I guess there are some very sick people who are closely following this case. Who else could have done it?’

`I don’t know, but there’s one other thing, Jack. Now you’re going to think I did this. But I didn’t. And Joe didn’t do it either, before he died. It really is very strange. The nun’s habit, the bookend, all the empty blood vials, and all the kid’s clothes have disappeared from the evidence room.’

Jack now stared at him, eye to eye. He was going to tell him about the metal bookend left at his door. However, he changed his mind, figuring the sergeant was already spooked enough. I’ll tell him about it tomorrow.

`Did you hear what I said, Jack?’

‘Yeah, I did. Jim, who in hell could have done all of this?’

‘Again, I don’t have a clue, Jack. Actually, I couldn’t come up with a name if I had to.’

‘Wow...this case just gets stranger and stranger by the hour, good buddy,’ stated the lawyer.

`Jack, you’re right. I also know this case is going to cause me to have a bloody nervous breakdown. I’ve been thinking about it more and more, and I’ve reached the conclusion that the coincidences do add up.’

`What do you mean, Jim? I’m not sure I follow you.’

`My friend, I believe this tragedy was preordained, and I think Joe believed that, too.’

`What are you saying?’ Jack now looked at him, eye to eye, once more.

`Think about it, Jack. Think about all the people involved in the case, and what has happened to them.’

`I still don’t understand.’

`Jack, my friend, everybody connected with this case dies.’ The sergeant’s face had nervously twitched, when he had made his last statement.

Jack rubbed the side of his head.

`Yes, just think about it. The little boy started it off. Then there was the old priest, the one in the confessional box.’

`What priest?’ asked Jack, rubbing his head again.

`You didn’t know?’

Jack shook his head in the negative.

`The day of the boy’s death, we found a dead priest in the confessional box at the Notre Dame Church. His name was Father Joseph. Apparently, he had been providing Sister Angelica with absolution when he died. Anyway, I can understand why you didn’t know about that, Jack. We kept it from the news media. Actually, the only place where it was reported was in the obituaries. However, it said that he had died of a short illness.’

`Jim, now that I think of it, Angelica did mention the dead priest, when I saw her at Tidewater.

The sergeant nodded. `But, Jack, he died the same way the hearse driver died. I mean...with blood coming out of his eyes, his nose, his throat, and his ears. It was a massive cerebral hemorrhage…at least that’s what the coroner’s report later said.’

`I still don’t understand what you’re getting at, Jim.’

`Jack, what’s the bloody odds? I’m talking about pure probability...that three people associated with a murder investigation would die in the course of one week...and all of them with massive head trauma. Isn’t that a million to one, Jack?’

The lawyer now knew he had to talk his good friend away from this kind of supernatural thinking, not only for the sergeant’s sake, but for his as well.

`Jim, sure I can believe that four people...because it is four and not three...with tenuous connections to one another, can die within a week. That doesn’t defy any laws of probability. You must remember that the priest was an old man when he died. Now I was there when the hearse driver died. He was an old man as well. So tell me, what’s so strange about two old men dying from natural causes? For sure, the cerebral hemorrhages were just a small coincidence in those two cases. As for Joe and the Bethany boy, theirs was a different kind of head trauma, a very violent kind, and certainly not comparable with the kind which the two old men suffered.’

Sergeant Medeiros now seemed to stare through and beyond the lawyer.

‘Jim, please don’t let this probability stuff get to you.’ Although he had said them for the sergeant’s sake, the lawyer did not completely believe his own words.

`You’re not afraid, Jack?’

‘No.’

‘Well, I’m worried shit. My wife was the first one to bring up these coincidences and these probabilities. You know...I pretty much tell her everything about my cases. Well, she’s very concerned that I’m going to turn up a mortality statistic...before this case is over. She also predicts that you will, too. Jack, my wife’s a good Catholic and a very religious person, but she’s also a realist. She’s not one to believe in ghosts or demons. Really, she’s a very down to earth lady. But now...she’s really concerned about these scary coincidences.’

`Jim, you and your wife are wrong! Plain and simple. Nothing is going to happen to you, and nothing is going to happen to me. Therefore, please calm down, and you had better calm your wife down as well. Both of you are just letting your vivid imaginations get the best of you, Jim.’

Medeiros currently stood silent and introspective. Jack knew he was considering what he had just told him.

Looking over Jim’s shoulders, toward the stairs of the funeral home entrance, Jack saw Jim’s wife patiently waiting there for her husband. He had no difficulty recognizing her. The lawyer had met her several times in the past at various V.F.W functions.

`Besides, Jim, this case should be over by tomorrow afternoon.’

`What!’

`That’s right, Jim, I think I have it worked out.’

`But how, Jack?’

`Jim, all I can say to you right now is that the D.A. won’t get a chance to indict Sister Angelica for murder one. That’s because of your efforts and Joe’s...good buddy. As you know…the criminal complaint presently before Judge Silveira charges manslaughter only.’

`Jack, that wasn’t my doings. It was all Joe’s. Yeah, from the beginning, charging only manslaughter was his idea.’ The sergeant patted Jack’s shoulder. `I don’t know who you talked to, or what you’ve got planned, and I don’t want to know. Just please...end this tragic case! Can you do that, good buddy?’

`I can and I will, Jim. So please relax. Go home now and be with your wife. You two need one another. If she’s afraid that she’s going to lose you, I don’t blame her. You’re in a dangerous profession, friend.’ He patted the sergeant’s shoulder. `Anyway, Jim, you’re a lucky man. I wish I had a woman like her to spend time with right now,’ added Jack. `It certainly would make a big difference in my life.’

Medeiros nodded.

Jack subsequently looked to the outside stairway of the funeral home, and he saw Judge Silveira walking down the steps. He held his wife’s hand. The judge must have a very understanding wife. How could the judge be such a truly caring person, unless his wife also has as much compassion as he does? For the moment, Jack was again feeling somewhat good about the world.

The lawyer thereafter returned his attention to the silent Sergeant Medeiros, and he briefly resummarized the situation. `Look, Jim, this case will be over by tomorrow, and you’ll be very happy with its outcome. I promise you that. So, Jim, please go home now and get some rest.’

Medeiros nodded. `Yeah, I am a little tired.’

`There’s one other thing, good buddy.’ Jack paused. He was trying to find the right words. `Jim, I just want to tell you…that I’m sorry about the bad advice I gave you the other day.’

`What do you mean?’

`I mean...maybe I should have advised you to tell the chief or your captain that Joe was severely depressed.’

`You don’t owe me an apology for that, Jack. No way! Look, all day long I’ve thought hard about what might have been…if I had gone to the chief or the captain. But what could they have done? Have him locked up? Forced him to see a psychiatrist? No, not because of some depression, and we certainly couldn’t baby sit him for the rest of his life. So who’s to say anything would have been different, if I had gone to the chief or the captain? I also know that if Joe made up his mind about something, there was nothing anyone could have done to change his mind. That’s the way Joe was. Yes, I know that now.’

‘Thanks for the kind words, Jim.’ Deep down, Jack still felt guilty. Earlier, he had wanted to tell Jim about his dream; the one in which he had seen Lieutenant Joe Souza take his own life. However, because Sergeant Medeiros was already so spooked, he had decided against it.

`Jack, my words are the truth.’

The attorney nodded and then said, ‘Oh, there’s one other thing, Jim. Please don’t mention to anyone, and I mean anyone, what I said about having worked the nun’s case out. That might be the only thing that could cause the arrangement to resolve the case to fall apart. Okay?’

`Sure, I won’t mention it to a soul…not even my wife.’ Then he smiled, before saying; ‘Goodnight...friend.’ Jim thereafter started walking toward his wife. She remained standing at the foot of the funeral home stairway.

‘Yeah, goodnight to you as well, Jim.’

The traffic inside the funeral home parking lot was now quite heavy, with many people leaving at the same time; so Jim had to stop walking twice, to allow cars in the parking lot to proceed by him. Finally, Jim reached his wife who gave him a small kiss on his cheek. Holding hands, the two then proceeded to their car. It was parked in a slot nearest to the main entrance of the funeral home.

Jack surmised: Medeiros was likely the first to arrive at the funeral home this evening. Gosh, will Jim ever get over the loss of his good friend? Sure, his wife will certainly see to that. I’m sure she must be a great support to Jim. I’ll bet, they must have fallen in love as teenagers...these two soul mates.

The lawyer’s thoughts shifted again, and his half-smile instantly turned into a frown. It might have been that way for me, if my wife to be…had lived. He now whispered to himself: `Life can be cold, cruel, and extremely hard at times. But we must persevere onward through life.’

Jim’s vehicle made a brief stop at the edge of the parking lot, and the two friends waved to one another.

Three minutes or so afterwards, Jack’s car also exited the funeral home parking lot.

Jack thought about Jim’s words. Suddenly, he saw it. It was a black hearse. It was coming up the street in the opposite direction.

`I’ll catch you now, you bastard!’ Jack yelled, before abruptly turning the wheel of his Volvo and hitting the brake at the same time. As a result, his car skidded and turned sideways, until stopping and blocking the middle of the road.

The hearse had also skidded; and it finally came to a complete stop, only a foot a way from Jack’s passenger side door. Jack, at this point, jumped out of his car and rushed at the hearse.

After reaching the driver’s side door of the hearse, the lawyer threw it open and pulled its driver to the ground. `Who the hell are you!’

With his back flat on the hard tar pavement, the young hearse driver had screamed for his life. He was the young man who had assisted at the funeral at the Notre Dame Cathedral that Monday when the earthquake had hit.

Instantly regaining his senses, Jack released his powerful grip on the young man’s collar. Seconds later, he proceeded to help the young man to his feet.

Jack sternly asked: `Who are you, and why have you been following me!’ The evening had cooled further, and Jack’s breath had steamed, when he had spoken those loud words.

`Following you? I haven’t been following you. Why would I do that, sir?’

`Who the hell are you!’

Dreaded fear continued to grip the young man’s eyes. `My name is Antone Santos, and I work at the Reid Funeral Home...up the street. I was just bringing in a body.’

`You mean…you have a body in the hearse?’ now asked Jack. He then began to brush dirt and sand from the young man’s shoulders.

`Yeah, you can check, if you want.’

Jack no longer doubted the young man’s words, and he currently felt very embarrassed.

`What’s this all about?’ the young man asked, as Jack continued to brush dirt and sand from the hearse driver’s shoulders.

`I’m sorry, fellow. I thought you were someone else.’

`You thought I was someone else! Well, who in hell did you think I was!’ he exclaimed. `You could have killed me!’

Not responding, Jack simply returned to his car.

During the remainder of his slow drive to his apartment house, Jack resolved not to attend tomorrow morning’s funeral mass or the grave site prayer service for Joe Souza. I’ve already paid my respects, and I surely won’t be missed by anyone except the sergeant. The funeral procession will also be very long. Therefore, one older modeled Volvo will not be missed, and Jim will understand. Additionally, I made it clear to him that I would be very busy tomorrow, trying to conclude this terrible episode which has adversely affected so many lives. So I know Jim will understand. `Oh, how I hate funerals,’ he then said aloud in the moving Volvo.

His thoughts soon turned to another subject: Should I stop at Peter’s for a night cap? A night cap would be good right now. It would help me to sleep. Yet I must wake with a clear head. Tomorrow is so terribly important. `No,’ he said aloud. `I’d better not chance anything. So I’ll forget Peter’s. Instead, I’ll go right home and get right to sleep. I just hope I can get through this night without having that same dreadful dream.’

The lawyer shook his head and took a deep breath.

That dream must be wreaking havoc with my unconsciousness. Is it my guilt in this case? he asked himself in his mind. I’m defending a child killer. Also, what I’ve prearranged with Judge Silveira certainly borders on the unethical. Additionally, I know the agreed upon sentence falls far short of being case appropriate. Actually, it will be a first. Who was ever sentenced to a monastery? No, I don’t enjoy this…not at all. Still, I must do it. There are powerful extenuating circumstances involved here.

Hard facts sometimes make for bad legal decisions. However, this is not going to be one of those instances. This old nun deserves a second chance late in life. Unquestionably, justice certainly would not be served, if this old nun spent her last few years, or perhaps her last few months or weeks, in prison.

Less than ten minutes later, Jack parked his vehicle in his usual parking place in front of his apartment house. He then decided to take a walk around the neighborhood. He thought the fresh air might later help him to sleep.

During the fifteen minute walk, the lawyer’s thoughts centered around his continuing dream. What is it all about? From my past reading, I do know a little bit about Freud and his classifications of dreams. Like Freud, Jack had always believed that dreams we’re either wish or fear, and nothing else in between. My recurrent dream certainly doesn’t qualify as a wish. Therefore, it must represent an intense subconscious fear on my part.

Okay then, what is my unconsciousness telling me to fear? And those laughs, what do they mean? Are the people in my nightmare telling me that I’m a fool for accepting the nun’s case? And those accusatory fingers, what do they mean? Do they point at me because I am currently representing a child murderer? But why the tears then? Who are they for? Then it struck him: They must be for me! Yep, I’m first a fool, and then I’m the victim.

After finishing those particular thoughts, Jack shook his head as he briskly walked along on the sidewalk on this cold and clear night. I’ll figure it all out after this case is over. My mind is just too tense to do it now.

He also knew from Freud’s book, the best way to end a repeating nightmare was to analyze it, looking for its special meaning and significance to the dreamer. According to the book, if one could find this special meaning and significance, and deal with it on an emotionally rational basis, then one’s recurring nightmare would forever cease. At least, he knew, that was the theory. I can do it, and I will do it...but only after this bloody case is over...tomorrow.

Rounding the corner of the street where he lived, Jack was shocked. He saw the black hearse. It sat in the middle of the road, directly in front of his apartment house. Its motor ran and its lights were on.

Jack instantly rushed at it, and it didn’t move from its stationary position in the middle of the road.

Soon reaching the driver’s side door, Jack threw it open. However, no one sat in the front seat of the vehicle. Jack then ran around to the back of the hearse, and he threw open its rear door. However, nothing or nobody was there either.

`Dammit…he must be in my apartment!’

Jack now darted toward the entrance to his apartment house. He saw red, and he was ready to do violence.

Upon reaching his apartment door on the second floor, Jack threw that door open. However, no one was in his living room; so Jack then raced around his apartment, checking all the other rooms. However, no one was there either.

`Christ, he’s still outside!’

Immediately, Jack sprinted down the stairs.

Once on the bottom floor, he slammed open the entryway door and ran outside; and when he did, he saw the hearse speed down the street. He had tried to catch its license plate, but he couldn’t. The hearse had simply moved too fast. The frustrated lawyer thereafter cursed under his breath.

Back inside his apartment, Jack put on his flannel pajamas and brushed his teeth. It was slightly past 11:00 o’clock. What do I do now? Should I read? No, I had better not read. Actually, I better get to bed very early tonight. My mind must be perfectly fresh in the morning.

Less than ten minutes later, the lawyer turned out the bedroom light and retired.

However, Jack could not sleep. Instead, he tossed and turned for the next half-hour. He simply couldn’t get the hearse out of his mind. If I could have glimpsed its license plate number, I could have asked Jim to run a trace on it.

His thoughts suddenly turned to Sister Angelica’s case. Something important had just struck him about the case. Wow, I just realized it. With all this missing evidence, I might actually be able to win this case, straight out. The D.A. doesn’t even have a body now…and all the blood evidence has also disappeared. So should I try to win the case straight out? No…I can’t do that! This nightmarish case has to get done tomorrow. Everything has already been arranged…set in motion. I also know that Sister Angelica would be against doing that. She knows she did wrong and has to suffer some consequences. That’s very clear.

The lawyer subsequently tossed and turned for another ten minutes. His mind continued to jumble thoughts. He finally concluded that he needed external stimuli to help him get to sleep.

First throwing off the sheets, he moved apace to his kitchen. After removing the bottle of Irish whiskey from the upper cabinet, Jack saw that it was now more than two thirds empty.

The lawyer scolded himself: `I’m drinking way too much. I’m also not eating enough. It’s not healthy.’ If I don’t change my lifestyle soon, I’m going to be in terrible trouble. However, I do have to get through this night for tomorrow’s sake. Yes, two good shots, and I should be out like a light.’

The shot glass was still on the kitchen counter, where Jack had left it earlier in the evening.

He downed his first shot of whiskey, and he poured another.

Then, after putting that shot away, he considered whether he should take one more. Why not? I need to get to sleep right away, don’t I?

He drained the third shot and took a seat at the kitchen table in the semi-dark room, waiting for the effects of the hard drinks to take hold.

Five full minutes elapsed before Jack started to feel the effects of the strong alcohol, and it hit him very hard. His head now spun.

`I guess I’m finally ready for bed.’ Following those words, he slowly moved to his bedroom.

Completely numb now, he rolled into his bed and pulled the sheets up to his neck. Quickly thereafter, Jack fell into a deep sleep.

***

`Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!’ Jack had