13. A Parson and His Ways

A kind of justice looms on the horizeon

13. A Parson and His Ways

DI McFyffe was as good as her word and drove Elaine Scooch to her homewhich was not far from Bigforth Primary School, and watched the young woman as she made her way through the front gate of her semi-detached home and to the front door, which she unlocked and disappeared through..

“So that’s it then, ma’am?” queried DS Dave Wright, “she’s admitted to stabbing a man and we let her loose to stab again?”

“She won’t, sergeant. At least, not after I’ve had a word with a certain clergyman. And remember, it’s not clear that a murder was committed: withut the pathologist’s say so it’s down to your expert guesswork.”

“There might be other blokes who take a fancy to her because she is a fair looking young woman, and she might decide to have another go with a sharp knife, and if she’s in her working uniform she’s probably tooled up with a blade in every pocket!”.

“Ah, there he is, almost sneaking this way,” Sheila indicated the shape of the Reverend Philip Stoker as he slowly made his way along the pavement that would take him up to the young school cleaner’s house. They watched as he reached her gate and stood by it for several seconds before furtively reaching for the catch, pushing the gate open and looking around before slowly making his way towards the recently used front door.

He was half way there when Sheila opened the door of her car and called out “Reverend!” in the sort of voice that demanded his attention.

“Who are you?” he demanded, “I’m only visiting a parishioner in need! Go away. I don’t want to buy anything.”

Then the front door of the Scooch residence swung open and Elaine stood there, face enraged and clearly crying genuine tears.

“Go away! She screamed, “Go right away! I don’t want to see you, not now and not ever!”

“That’s enough for me,” muttered Elaine and she climbed out of the car.

“I need you to come with me,” she said in her harshest voice to the Reverend Stoker, and “right now!” she added when it seemed that he was hesitating.

Then the vicar came out with one of Sheila’s most hated responses. “Do you know who I am?” he growled, and then, as if that wasn’t going to be enough, “My Bishop is a personal friend of Superintendent Foyle, and you know what that means!”

“Sergeant, get your handcuffs ready!” barked Sheila, and then to the parson, “your boss being a friend of my boss doesn’t mean you have the right to stalk any young woman you choose to stalk, to scare anyone to death by making constant improper references to their underwear and finally to drive them to the brink of murder!” she snapped.

, Dave climbed out of the passenger seat of the car, clinking his handcuffs and smiling in such a way as to invite the arrogant other to make a run for it. “Come on then, sir,” he said, “these cuffs are a bit on the tight ide and you’d feel better if I didn’t need to use them….”

“The woman’s hysterical…” complained the vicar, “you heard the way she screamed at me before I even got to her front door!”

“I did that,” growled Dave, “and it got me to wondering why…”

He led his prisoner to the police car, opened the rear door, pushed him in and climbed in after him.

“Now this is cosy…” he growled.

“You two won’t half be in trouble for this,” protested the vicar of Saint Paulinus Church rying to add authority to his voice, “I’ll only have to mention you to my Bishop and he’ll make sure you get your cards and end up on the streets, no job, no income, no little warrant card to threaten innocent people with, and no rusty old handcuffs either.”

Sheila turned round in her seat and faced the clergyman. “And your precious Bishop will be quite happy to defend a stalking clergyman who has driven a sensitive young woman to the brink of murder,will he?” she asked, “and he’ll be equally willing to defend all the many references you made to her about her underwear? What was it you called it? Her knickers?”

“I don’t know what you’re going on about?” he growled defensively, “I am a man of God, you know, and a priest of the church, a man who knows right from wrong and preaches about it week in and week out, and what is she? A scrubber, that’s what she is, a young wench who scrubs a filthy little school for her crust and who should really try to be kinder to her fellow human being. Who’s likely to be truthful eh? The holy man with his golden halo or the filthy bit of skirt with her knickers round her ankle?”

“That’s funny,£ smirked Dave, “I see no halo…”

“I’d advise you to remain silent while I drive us to the station,” suggested Sheila, “and I’d better warn you that Ive been recording everything said ever since you were escorted into this vehicle.”

Then she put the car into gear and slowly pulled forwards.

The short journey to the police station took very little time, and the two officers escorted their prisoner towards the interview room, and when they were all seated she smiled at the Reverend Stoker.

“Now that were all comfortable,” she said, “I will begin…”

© Peter Rogerson, 20.01.25

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