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Episode Nine
concluded with:
The two men carried their latest victim far into
the grove until they reached an area wide enough for a grave. They dropped
Wooster onto the ground. Coogan placed two fingers on his neck.
“Is he still alive?” Fargo asked.
“Not by much. He’ll probably be gone by the time
we dig a hole for him.”
Fargo chuckled, “I almost hope he ain’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“Ain’t never buried no one alive before. Might
be kinda fun.”
Episode Ten
***
Rance
Dehner looked at the fine church which stood in the middle of Dallas. The
stained glass windows and towering steeple were, in a way, inspiring. On those
Sundays when he was in the city, Dehner attended a small Baptist church which
met in a decent but unimpressive building. Still, the detective was glad that
this magnificent church was a part of Dallas.
Rance
was about to enter the church through one of the ornate wooden doors when his
boss stopped him: “Karl’s study is on the side of the building.”
They
entered a well-cared for path that took them to a side door. Bertram Lowrie,
the owner of the Lowrie Detective Agency, knocked lightly. Lowrie belonged to
the church, which he praised as being “the closest thing to The Church of
England available in Dallas.”
The
door was quickly opened by a distinguished looking man, who was probably in his
mid-forties. “Good to see you, Bertram, please come in.”
Both
men stepped into the pastor’s study and Bertram Lowrie introduced his
“associate” to Bishop Karl Larkin. The bishop resembled Lowrie in a superficial
way. Both men were silver haired, tall and slim. But Karl Larkin carried a bit
more weight than Lowrie, who looked bony and emaciated, though he was an agile,
strong man. Larkin’s face was fuller and evenly proportioned, unlike Lowrie who
had a hawk nose.
Dehner
noted that the pastor’s study did, indeed, look like a study. All four walls
were lined with books, most of them in English but some in Latin and Greek and
a few in German.
“I’m
afraid this rotten sinner has committed some shameful acts. I am in need of a
detective,” Larkin said.
Dehner
smiled broadly. “‘Rotten sinner’. Those are words designed to make this Baptist
feel right at home.”
There
was light laughter all around as Larkin sat down while pointing his guests to
two chairs in front of his desk. For an awkward moment, no one spoke, then
Lowrie broke the silence with a genial question. “Karl, why don’t you tell us
about this wretched sin that is plaguing your conscience?”
Bishop
Larkin nodded his head. “I’m from Boston and have a good friend in that city:
Jeremiah Howell. Jeremy is a seminary dean and a good man. But he has some odd
notions about the West. He thinks of the West as a place to send students that
he can’t find anything for in the East.”
Bertram
Lowrie grimaced. “Dean Howell, I can only assume, was the man responsible for
sending us young Jim Goodman.”
Karl
Larkin returned the grimace. “No, Bertram, I must accept that responsibility. I
allowed Reverend Goodman to come here.”
Lowrie’s
grimace turned to a mischievous smile. “Ah, Karl, but when you discovered what
an incompetent he was, you found a graceful way to dispatch him.”
The
bishop sighed, stared at his hands for a few moments, then looked back at his
visitors. “I’m not proud of what I did.”
Dehner
asked his first question. “What exactly did you do, Bishop Larkin?”
Larkin
now spoke in a matter of fact manner. He wanted to lay the problem out. “For
several months I have been corresponding with a Mr. Frank Dunning. He is the
mayor of Antioch and the lay leader of the Methodist Church there. They are getting ready to construct a new
church and can now support a full time pastor instead of relying on a circuit
preacher.”
Dehner
stifled a smile. “And you sent them Reverend
Goodman…”
“As
I said, I’m not proud of what I did. Those people obviously need a man of
sterling quality and I sent them a bungler. I was thinking only of myself,
trying to gracefully get rid of an associate who was a headache.”
Bertram
Lowrie looked a bit confused. “I understand your remorse, Karl. But why do you
require the services of a detective?”
The
Bishop picked up a telegram that lay on his desk and began to read. “‘Goodman
here. Took gun from outlaw. Maybe saved lives. Town grateful.’ It is signed
Frank Dunning.”
Dehner
lifted both hands in a questioning manner. “Sounds like Goodman’s fitting in
just fine, what’s the problem?”
Larkin
replied in an emotionless voice. “Jim Goodman couldn’t take a stick from a
rambunctious seven year old boy.”
Bertram
Lowrie’s voice was also a monotone. “As a deacon in this church who had to deal
with Reverend Goodman’s frequent blunders, I can vouch for the accuracy of
Karl’s assessment.”
Larkin
tossed the telegram back onto his desk and picked up another. “This message came
from Boston. ‘My daughter Amanda left home to marry Jim Goodman. Please advise
of his location. Urgent.’ It is signed Cynthia Olson.”
“The
foolish romanticism of the young,” Lowrie sighed. “The girl probably reads the
Bronte sisters.”
The
Bishop’s voice became forceful. “I want to make up for my past, selfish
actions. Something has gone wrong and matters could verge on getting much
worse. Bertram, could you send an operative to Antioch and ascertain exactly
what is going on?”
“Mr.
Dehner will be leaving on the first available train.”
Dehner
nodded in agreement and wondered at the odd nature of his assignment. He was to
investigate a young preacher whose personality seemed to have changed overnight
and deal with a young woman who was a hopeless romantic.
The
detective had a feeling his trip to Antioch was going to be very eventful.
Tomorrow:
Episode Eleven of Dangerous Calling
