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THE BELLS AT ST.CHRISTOPHER


He forces a smile. She knew it was fake and shot the same disingenuous look right back at him, hands him his change, turns slightly towards 2 o'clock and hollers, "NEXT!"

Dr Ramsey Bosch sits down on the edge of the dried out, dilapidated fountain to eat his dollar burger and chase it down with a watered down Dr Pepper. Remnants of any change that use to line the bottom of this once prominent aquatic symbol, long since raided by the smattering of homeless people that now oscillate around 31st and Bradley.
Upon finishing half his lunch, Dr Ramsey ambles over to the trashcan that is overflowing with months of stale, foul debris; but instead of setting it on top, he walks over to one of the homeless, hands him a half-eaten burger and nearly a full soda.
Before the unfortunate soul has a chance to thank the good doctor and perhaps noodle a few nickels from him, he pauses when he notices a holster and very large semi-automatic pistol tucked just inside the left pocket of Dr Ramsey's long, white overcoat. He forgoes the quick pitch for pennies and opts instead to just walk away. The good “doctor,” now with a genuine smile on his face, walks with a purpose, up 31st Street and towards his intended destination; guided now by the heart of a demon and the ringing of the bells at St Christopher, just 3 short blocks away.



The Bells of St Christopher (pg 2)



Wendy Conklin is wiping the remnants of spilled ice cream off a tiny, wobbly table; angrily scooping approximately 38 cents into her hand just as a stranger in a white doctor’s coat walks in. The ringing of the mini-cow bell at the corner of the door frame briefly turns Wendy's attention towards him. She stops the task at hand, lifts one side of her headphones and greets her lone customer.

"I'll be with you in just a moment, sir!"

"That's fine my child, I am in no hurry."

Wendy Conklin is 19 years old today. She's petite with pretty, green eyes and auburn hair, pulled back, pinned up and tucked into a hair net, per the dress code at Baskin Robbins Ice Cream Parlor on 38th and Grand. She's a college sophomore at the local community college with aspirations of becoming a music teacher and to marry her high school sweetheart. She removes her headset, slips it into her pocket atop her measly tip and swings around the counter to assist the stranger with his order, just as the final bell at St Christopher’s sounds for the day.

Wendy rarely hears the ringing of the bells anymore; most residents here don't unless alluded to by a visitor or as it happens, you are walking right by the church around noon when, as scheduled, and as has been the case for 43 years, the bells at St Christopher’s ring.

"So, are you a Doctor, uhh...Doctor?" she giggles.

"Yes, yes I am!"

"What kind of Doctor are you then…. Doc-tor… she draws closer to his name tag to get a clearer look,..." Doctor....Bosch?"

"Yes, Dr Bosch...Well I am a..."

"Hey wait a minute!"...Wendy interrupts..."I know a Doctor Bosch!"... "He's my Gynecologist!...Oh how funny is this?"
"You must be related because this is a small community and we know...."

"Is it your birthday today?" the stranger interrupts.

"Why yes it is..... How did you...."

"I just wanted to say happy birthday, Miss Conklin!"

Wendy briefly looks down at her name tag. Her cute, quirky smile now replaced with a look of concern; of fear.
She realizes that her last name is NOT on her badge and now with a trembling voice, slowly addresses the stranger standing just across the counter from her.

"How do you know my name?” Her voice now cracking and frail.

Without answering, the stranger reaches inside the doctors smock of a one, Dr Ramsey Bosch MD, pulls out a 9 mm semi automatic handgun, points it at Wendy's head and pulls the trigger.


The Bells of St Christopher (page 3)



"HO-LY crap, Looks as though someone left the lid off the blender," cracks detective Jack Munday of the Chrystal City police department. He moves around the counter and before he can shoot off another tasteless "dead persons" joke, he sees her.
Her tiny, lifeless body is slumped against the back counter in a sort-of semi-sitting position, her head and upper trunk leaning heavily to the left. He kneels down beside her, being careful not to disturb the body or contaminate the site before the coroner arrives. Jack, now looking up at the shake machine, notices a hairnet filled with bone, hair and brain matter, wrapped around one of the blades. Dawning a new pair of rubber gloves, he reaches down and retrieves a partially bloodied, unwrapped straw from the floor, sitting about 6 inches from Wendy's right foot. Carefully, he uses it to move her shiny auburn hair away from her eyes. He recognizes her almost instantly. "Oh my God!"

Jack Munday stands and turns to face his partner who is still on the opposite side of the counter trying to get a line on the approach; where the shot took place, distance; if this cold-blooded killer left anything identifiable behind. It was instantly clear to detective Lionel Bevins, staring up at the wall behind the shake machine, just where she stood when she was shot. The spray pattern, almost peacock-like in it's arrangement but instead of seeing an impressive array of pomp and color, the crimson horror that now covered nearly the entire back wall of the tiny ice cream parlor was anything but nature at it's most beautiful on display; but humanity at it's indescribable worst.

Lionel's eyes pull away from the wall just long enough to see his partner of 12 years staring blankly at him. Jack tried to speak but what came out was unintelligible.

"Jack?"...."What's wrong?"......."JACK?" "WHAT IS IT, MAN?"

"It's Wendy," he whispers.

"WHAT?"

"IT'S WENDY CONKLIN!"

"WHO?"

"WENDY CONKLIN, GODDAMMIT"......"It's Benny's girlfriend."
"Christ almighty, Bev"..........."That's my boys fiance'!



The Bells at St Christopher (page 4)



Dr Ramsey Bosch, MD, Gynecologist, Harvard Medical School class of 1998, has been up for 27 hours straight, the last 7 or so inside a cramped interrogation room. His bottom lip is split down the center and the sting of salty sweat pouring into it while being verbally harassed, physically threatened and falsely accused, was more than he could tolerate.

"HOW MANY TIMES TIMES MUST I TELL YOU SICK BASTARDS THAT I DIDN'T MURDER ANYONE"...."I HAVEN'T SEEN MY COAT AND NAME BADGE FOR 2 DAYS PRIOR TO THE DATE YOU SAID I WALKED INTO THAT PARLOR". "I DON'T EAT AT MCDONALDS." "I DON'T SOCIALIZE WITH THE CITIES MISCREANTS"....."I'VE NEVER OWNED A WEAPON IN MY F***ING LIFE AND I......."

"Just cool you’re pooter, Doc", Jack boldly interrupts.

Lionel sticks his head inside the door and hands Jack a cup of coffee.
"Jack....I'm ready for that line-up when you are, buddy."

Jack shoots an evil grin at Dr Bosch, who is now crying.

"Yeeeaaahh,...we're ready, huh Doc?" Jack smirks.




Horace Finley and Rebecca Sinclair are in love. They met at a choir rehearsal at the church 4 years ago and have rarely been apart since. As they sit atop a small hill, just 2 blocks to the rear of St Christopher, Rebecca sneezes suddenly...and then again...and again in rapid, eerily silent succession. Horace laughs, flicks a blade of grass at her head and pulls an old, olive drab cravat from his back pocket and hands it to her.

"Here....you snotty little girl," Horace grins.

"Oh blow it out your bung-hole, McFinley, you Irish bum," she retorts, then blows her nose into the rag.

They both break into fits of laughter at the unexpected range of Rebecca's musical snout.
"I think that was an "F sharp, minor 7th chord," Horace adds between bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

"No, you're wrong ya deaf Mick, I'll have you know, that was a PERFECT "C"! (more laughter)


Just when they thought they could laugh no more, the bells at St Christopher began to ring. They both stopped for a moment, startled initially due to their close proximity to the church...but before the second bell sounded, they both had resumed their reckless merriment.

"I can name that tune in TWELVE notes," Rebecca snorts.

"OK Rebecca...Name...that..t-t".............BLAM!

Horace never got to finish his sentence before his entire forehead exploded, covering Rebecca with blood, bone and brain matter. Rebecca screamed, or at least she though she did. Everything was now dead silence. Rebecca watches in slow motion as Horace's body falls forward, revealing briefly a dark figure, still shrouded in smoke and disfigured by the warm blood that ran into both eyes. Completely blinded in her left eye, Rebecca slowly looks up with her right.

"F-F-ATHER MCNEIL? NO-OOOO.........BLAM!

Daniel McNeil stands over two bloodied body’s and grins with evil pride. He never ceases to amaze himself as to his clarity and the relative calm he maintains while snuffing out another life. He had realized just seconds after he shot Rebecca and Horace, that he never lost count of the bell toll. He was, in retrospect, methodical, in that he even recalled shooting Horace at the 4th ring and Rebecca at the 7th. He hadn't planned it that way; it just seemed, at the time, to be a cool thing to do. He also prided himself in his ability to maintain a steady, slow heart rate, even in the midst of unspeakable acts of violence and sexual deviancy. He has even been known to check and record his own pulse during the commission of an especially gruesome act.

As the 11th bell sounds, Daniel turns toward St Christopher and spits in the direction of the old Catholic Church. Mockingly, he calls out to God.

"GOD..IF YOU WISH ME TO CONTINUE YOUR WORKS AND CONTINUE THIS SACRIFICE.....GOD, IF YOU WISH ME TO COMPLETE THIS TASK WHICH THOU HAST GIVEN ME, PLEASE, OH POWERFUL ONE…SHOW ME A SIGN..OH GREAT, MERCIFUL AND GLORIOUS, SON OF WHORE, MOTHER F-F.....

The final bell tolls sending the former priest and convicted child molester, Daniel McNeil into a raging, sinister laugh that seemed to ride the wave of the last bell across Chrystal City, only to be consumed by the noise of the growing mid-day lunch commuters. He quickly gains his composure, looks up into the afternoon sky and winks.

"Amen, lord"........A-A-A-A-MEN!"


The Bells of St Christopher (page 5)



Jack takes one last drag off his Marlboro Light and flicks his butt at a group of pigeons nestled around a half-eaten snack cake and watches with twisted amusement as they scatter in all directions. At the same time, Dr Ramsey Bosch, MD., is walking out of the station with his attorney, still spitting mad at the treatment he had endured and screaming at him like a scolded child. Jack listens intently, hoping that the good doc doesn't notice him leaning up against the base of the "Fallen Hero's" statue that sits on a landing, half way up the stone steps leading to the entrance of the Chrystal City Police station. No such luck. Dr Bosch spots Jack as he turns to rip into his lawyer again and starts towards him at a steady clip, hands raised; his long bony finger pointing straight at him. He stops within 2 feet of Jack, his finger about an inch away from his nose.

"I am going to sue your ass off! You will not wear that badge again, Mister......not if I have anything to do with it," Dr Bosch shrieks.

"Look, Doc," Jack responds, "If you don't get your finger outta my face....."

The lawyer, Ely Renteria, grabs his client by the belt and pulls him back a foot while looking up at Jack's 220 lb frame.

Dr Ramsey continues, "You watch too much TV cowboy, and now it's going to cost you your job, you f****** maniac!"

Jack replies, "Well, Doc, at least I didn't blow a quarter-million dollars on an education so I could LOOK at pussy. You look
like a man who couldn't possibly take his work home with him."

"F*** You, you freak." Ramsey retorts.

Jack is just getting warmed up. "Hell Doc, for twenty dollars I can take you to a place where they'll not only let you look at it but let you put your whole fat f***** face in it too if you.."

"Why you sick, bastard!" Ramsey says, and lunges at Jack with both hands raised as if going for his throat. In one move, Jack turns sideways, slaps the back of Dr Ramsey's head. His momentum carries him past his intended target and into the base of the statue. Just as Dr Bosch is reopening that nasty little cut to his bottom lip, Lionel Bevens is flying out of the police station, obviously panicked.

"Jack!... Jack, where are you"?

"Down here, Bev." Jack replies. "What's wrong?"

"Jack, we got two more." Lionel says, now out of breath. "It's real bad, Jack."

"Two?" "Who is it, Bev?" Jack asks, now noticeably worried.

"It was Horace Finley and Becky Sinclair, Jack... He shot 'em both."

Jack, visibly stunned, immediately covers his face with both hands, walks backwards a few steps until his back is up against the base of the memorial and slides down until he is curled up into a tiny little ball. He begins to cry. Horace Finley had been good friends with his son, Benjamin Munday, since 1st grade. Both had played football together as juniors and seniors and had even planned to attend the same college together with the hopes that each would marry their sweethearts and raise kids together.
Becky and her family had only arrived here in Chrystal City 5 years ago from Ogden, Utah. Disenchanted with the Mormon Church, they moved to the thriving metropolis of Chrystal City to start again. Rebecca Sinclair had a singing voice of an angel and a heart to match. Neither one deserved this, Jack thought as he wipes his face with the tail of his cheap, Walmart tie and jumps to his feet. Lionel Bevins places a hand on Jack's right shoulder and kindly reminds him that they have work to do.

"You know what this means, ole buddy, dont you?" Lionel asks as he now brings his other hand up and places it on Jack's opposite shoulder. Jack looks up and nods.

Lionel continues, "Jack, we have a serial killer here in Chrystal City and they are after our children. Why Jack?"
"Why would someone do something like that?"

"Don't know, Bev," Jack says...."I just don't know."


It's 2:13 in the morning and Jack Munday can't sleep. Visions of his son's face as he told him about the murders of his fiance, and now best friend, keep replaying in his head. Up until about an hour ago he still heard his son crying intermittently in the next room. Every time he would cry, Jack wanted to run in and comfort him but decided against it. He instead cried along with him, unbeknownst to Benny. He had already lost a mother when Jack's wife died 6 years ago of complications from Crohn's disease. During the 1st year after her death, Jack would spend countless hours in Ben's room, consoling him, holding him and crying with him. Year two was worse. Jack was hitting the Jack Daniels with regularity and was reprimanded for being drunk on the job and for "roughing up" an under-aged gang-banger. Six months of rehab and counseling seemed to improve things for a while. Although Jack had beaten back the bottle and Benjamin seemed to have made positive steps by excelling in football and maintaining a "B" average in school, neither was ready for what happened just 3 days after the 3rd year anniversary of the death of Caroline Peckham Munday. To think of it today, still brings Jack's blood to a raging boil. Not this time. No, this time he focuses not on the horrifying details of the molestation of several children at St Christopher's Catholic Church nearly 3 years ago, but on the players involved in the scandal. The victims: 3 boys and 2 girls, ages 6 to 11. The witnesses for the prosecution: Wendy Conklin and Horace Finley, who first heard from the children as to what was being done. They were also the ones who reported it to the police. The convicted molester now, as far as Jack knew, was serving a life sentence in a federal prison in Kansas. The state indecency charges superceded by the federal charges of transporting minors over state lines for unlawful and lascivious acts. For a while Jack thought he was on to something. Now, he was right back where he started.

Jack tossed and turned for another hour and slowly drifted off to sleep, only to be awaken by the alarm at 6:15.
He jumps out of bed as though he had slept for 8 solid hours. He explains away the added energy to the fact that he never really entered REM sleep, therefore he awoke with the same nervous energy that kept him wide awake for half the night.
Benny was already up and at the table, finishing off a project for his business class. The morning’s newspaper was sprawled out on the table in several pieces. The front page section lay unread in a chair opposite Ben, the headlines, a reminder of the carnage over the last 48 hours. Ben had most of the ad section in front of him and was cutting out advertisements for his poster board at a hurried pace. He had already poured his father a cup of coffee and had it waiting on the table for him. Jack pushes the headlines off the seat and onto the floor and sits down. Ben looks up briefly but says nothing and resumes cutting. He had just finished crying. Jack says nothing, takes a sip from his Dallas Cowboys coffee cup and glances at the front page section of the Chrystal City Examiner, now lying scattered on the floor just to his left. "Three Crystal City Teens Found Dead, Murdered; Possible Connection." Jack grimaces. But something else caught his eye. It was a picture. Some distance away from the headline story but on page one none-the-less. It was a picture of a priest. From 3 feet away he couldn't make out the face but almost immediately sensed a familiarity. He leans down, picks up the front page, letting the internal pages fall and lays it in front of him. He dons a pair of reading glasses and reexamines the lone picture at the bottom and right of the page. It was Father Daniel McNeil.


The Bells of St Christopher (page 6)



Jack reads the first two paragraphs and springs from the table, knocking his coffee to the floor and shattering his prized mug. He darts upstairs, leaving Benjamin wondering what had just happened.
"Dad"...."Dad, what is it?”
Benjamin gets up and runs to the bottom of the stairs to meet his father as he's coming down.
"Son....look...we could be in danger." He hands him a loaded .45 caliber hand-gun.

"What's happening Dad, Benjamin pleads.

"Father McNeil escaped from a prison in Kansas last week," Jack begins. "They never notified us because his trail went south, like he was headed to Mexico."...."Ben, I believe he came back here."..."I think he is responsible for the murders....it all makes perfect sense now." Jack continues, "Look son, he could be after us...we could be next."

"Why us?” Why me," Ben asks.

"I was the arresting officer, Ben and you are my son. I get the feeling that he will do anything to exact his revenge on us, this town and the Church."

"Why the Church, Dad,” Ben now looking puzzled, inquires.

"Son, I can only guess that right now Father McNeil feels like the Church, the congregation, Chrystal City and perhaps God has let him down and now he has returned to get even."..."I want you to lock the doors, keep your cell phone close and if you happen to see Father Mcneil, I want you to shoot that son-of-a bitch between the eyes, you got it?”

“Yeah, Dad...I got it!"


Jack is headed for the station and is already on the phone to his partner. Upon being automatically forwarded to Lionel's voice mail, Jack blows up and he lets loose a barrage of expletives. He was now worried. Not for his safety but for that of his son, his partner, the children and the priests at St Christopher. “Hell, no one is safe with that sick bastard around,” he thought. Piece by piece it all begins to fall into place for Jack. The coroner had placed the time of death at around noon for all three victims. The witnesses that came forward from both crime scenes didn't have a lot of details to offer, except that the "doctor" was seen walking in the ice cream parlor and the shots heard emanating from the hill-top overlooking the church, both occurred exactly during the ringing of the bells at St Christopher.

Coincidentally, Jack also recalls walking Father McNeil from the court house to an awaiting police cruiser moments after he was sentenced to life. The bells of St Christopher had come alive just as they exited the packed court room. Throngs of people from the close-knit neighborhood of Chrystal City had gathered outside to cheer the verdict and to jeer this vile man who, at one time, was the pride of St Christopher. Jack also recalls that as the final bell sounded; as Father Mcneil was placed in the back of the police car for a 10 hour drive to Kansas, he had some parting wishes for the deposed child molester. He recalls telling him that.... "The final bell has sounded on your sick little game, Padre." "You were lucky,..," Jack remembers saying as if he had spoken it yesterday, "Had that been my son, I'd a shot you in the head," then tossed him in the back seat.

What now sticks in Jack's mind is not so much what he said to Father Mcneil but his response that now bore the weight of the carnage over the past 48 hours.
Jack, now doing 70 mph, lights in his unmarked cruiser flickering intermittently, siren blaring and those words, repeating over and over in his head, Jack tries Lionel again. Again gets his voice mail. He calls home and checks on Ben. All is well. As he screeches to a halt in front of the station, he sits for a moment, pondering his next move. Wondering if there is someone else he needs to call and warn. Suddenly, a priest is spotted coming out of the station and down the steps and Jack, instinctively goes for his side arm. Recognizing Father Beasley, he relaxes his grip, takes a deep sigh and ambles out of the car and up the stairs, all the while, Father Daniel's final thoughts replaying in his head.

"I'll be back, Jack...and the Bells of St Christopher will ring for me again...I PROMISE YOU!"


The Bells at St Christopher (page 7)


Benjamin Munday is back now at the kitchen table. His morning college classes and overdue business assignment are the least of his worries. A loaded 45 caliber semi-automatic handgun sits atop his incomplete poster board. The safety is off. Ben stares at the weapon, remembering the abrupt but thorough training he received from his father shortly after Father McNeil was sent away. He remembers surprising his father with his accuracy and adherence to safety measures when handling a loaded weapon. "Always keep it on Safe," he remembers his father repeating over and over again. "Not today," Ben is now thinking as he takes a moment to assess the noises outside for anything unusual; and then, thinking aloud, he says emphatically, "Not Today!"

The ringing of the phone sends Ben's heart into his throat. By the fourth ring he has regained his composure and slowly picks up the receiver.

"Hell-o?"

"Ben,..Is t-that.y-you?

Ben knew almost immediately it was his Dad's partner and best friend for many years, Lionel Bevins but he sounded a little different. His usual pronounced and deeply pitched voice now came out a tad strained and without the booming volume normally present when he spoke.


"Ben,” Lionel continued, "Your father asked m-me to c-call you and instruct you to come to the ch-church with me. He feels it w-would be safer for you, Ben."

"Where's my father at, Bev?" "What happened to my f-fa..."

"Your father is ok", Lionel assure Ben. "He's just a little busy right now and he's w-worried about you and w-wants you here with me."

"Ok, Bev," Benjamin agrees, "Should I bring the gun?"

Detective Lionel Bevins pauses for a second to look into the eyes of a killer. Daniel McNeil raises the barrel of his newly acquired, police-issued 44 cal revolver so that it's flush against Lionel's forehead. Lionel turns his head back to the receiver, held in place by Father Mcneil's left hand.

"No son!" Lionel scolds Ben. "I have mine and t-that's all we'll need."

After a lengthy pause Ben says, "O-okay, Bev...I'm on my way."

Daniel McNeil slaps the phone shut in Lionel's ear and erupts in a ghastly laugh. Lionel, now tied to one of four support beams that surround the pews in the main chapel at St. Christopher’s, winces as blood and sweat pour into his left eye from a 3 inch gash just above and perpendicular to his left brow. Father McNeil had been waiting for Officer Bevins just as he exited his home this morning on his way to the station. Lionel had had his cell phone in his hand, attempting to call his partner to tell him about Father McNeil's escape, when everything went black. When he awoke, he was in the church, tied up and face to face with the murderer and convicted child molester, Father Daniel McNeil.

Father McNeil glances down at his watch as his demented laugh tapers off.

"What,” Lionel screams, "you gotta date with the Vienna Boys Choir you Sick F***?"

"No, Daniel says calmly, smiling larger now. "No, but you have a date with death, my off-colored friend. You, he continues and that hot-headed partner of yours and his son; all in less than an hour will no longer be, God willing!" And again lets out a laugh that seems to carry though out the church and back around again. Lionel looks up at the clock that sits just beneath the mezzanine section at the back of the sanctuary. It is now 11:08 and Jack Munday is about to get a phone call.


The Bells at St Christopher (page 8)


"Hello....Bev?...Hello?" Jack answers, hoping to hear the voice of his partner, Lionel Bevins. Instead, it's his son, Benjamin.

"Dad, "It's me, Ben," he says with a sigh, relieved to hear his father’s voice.

"Hey, son, "You okay?" Jack replies.

Ben responds, "Yeah, I was worried, Dad. Oh, and Bev called but he sounded a little...."
Jack interrupts,
"You talked to Bev?"
"Yeah, Dad, Ben now surprised, "He said you said to go to the church. Said he thought it would be safer if..."
"Wait son…..Where are you?" Jack demands, now with fear in his voice.
Be replies, "I am outside St Christopher's now, Dad...I don't see Bev's car any...."
"Son, Shut-up and listen. Get in your car now and come to the station...I mean right now!"
"Okay, Dad," Ben says. "I'll be there in....wait!" Ben stops in mid sentence.
"What is it, son?” ”Ben, what’s happening?" Jack yells, now panicked.
"Dad, there's a priest walking very fast towards my car....Dad"?

The strained pitch in his son's voice made Jack nauseous and he was instantly overcome with fear. "Ben....Run Ben....Run Now, Son!"

"Dad...Wait....Dad!"......Dad?"

Jack was already out of the station and down the steps by the time Benjamin Munday recognized Father Thomas Beasley. Jack jumps into an unmarked cruiser and tears down Baker Avenue, turns up McConnell and from 3 blocks away, calls his son back from his cell.

"Ben...Ben what's happening...you okay...Ben!" Jack pleads.

"Dad, I'm okay...It’s not Father McNeil....It's Father Beasley."

Jack closes his eyes for a second and feels the blood return to his head.

Ben continues, "Father Beasley and I are in the rear of the church by the recreation building. Dad, he says Father Mcneil is inside and he has Bev.... He says he's beat up pretty good and.."

"Son, Jack says, now just 2 blocks away,, "Stay right there with Father Beasley, I am a minute away."

"Okay Dad." Ben says as he glances down at his watch.

It's now 11:38 and Jack suddenly feels sick again. Even though he had heard Ben's voice, he found himself again, breathing rapidly, his heart racing as if it was trying to escape from his chest. It wasn't because of the inevitable confrontation with Father McNeil; or the fear he felt for his partner and best friend; Jack was a seasoned cop who had always been calm in situations such as this and knew that Lionel was tough and extremely intelligent. What was now at the forefront of Jack's mind was one single question that lingered since he got off the phone with his son, Ben.


What was Father Beasley doing at the station at 7:15 this morning?


The Bells at St Christopher (page 9)


Father Beasley and Benjamin Munday were hunkered down behind the grand cathedral between an old church bus and the recreation center. They both kept a steady watch of the area to the west of the church where the driveway ran along side the main building and circled around to the rear where they now waited. They also watched the rear door of the church in case Father McNeil decided to flee out of the back, unexpectedly. Then Father Beasley's phone began to ring. He answered immediately but said nothing, then closed the cell phone shut.

"Benjamin, Father Beasley began, Father McNeil was seen exiting the front of the church, alone! Let's Go. Come on. Hurry up!"

Father Beasley grabs a handful of Ben's sleeve and firmly pulls him along towards the rear of the church.

"Where are we going, Father?" Ben asks.

"We've got to see if Officer Bevin’s is okay, Ben...Come on!"

Ben now understood and hurries past Father Beasley and into the rear door at St Christopher's Church. Father Beasley immediately calls after Ben, asking him to wait and to walk behind him until he was sure that it was safe. He leads Ben down a long passage that takes them from the rear of the church to a room just behind the main sanctuary. There was one other door inside the cramped 10x10 foot space that was used as a changing room for adults who were to be baptized that day. That door led to an even smaller baptismal room that housed a large step down "tub." There was a window in the baptismal area that overlooked the large sanctuary, allowing the patrons to view this transformation of souls, as it were.

Jack's car skids within 3 feet of the old bus and comes to a stop. He calls out to his son but gets no response. He draws his .40 cal revolver, cocks the hammer back and makes his way inside the rear of the church and down the corridor. He calls out for his son again and this time Ben hears him. He stands up in the dimly lit and cramped changing room and before he could respond to his father, Father Beasley slaps his right hand over Ben's mouth from behind and with his left arm, wraps it around his throat, and chokes Ben until he falls limp in his arms. He lays Ben down, trying to be as quiet as he can because he knows Jack Munday was close. He also knew that Jack would also follow the main corridor passed the changing room, opting instead to head right for the main sanctuary, unless he heard a noise that would lead him to believe they were closer than he thought.





The Bells at St Christopher (pg 10)


Jack kicks through the pine door leading into the main sanctuary with his gun drawn. Immediately he spots Lionel Bevins on the opposite side, bleeding and restrained, but still alive. He slowly moves forward, the pulpit now to his right. He walks to the first set of pews and notices his partner rolling his eyes upward, repeatedly. Jack pans up, follows the large oak beam to its peak, then back down again. He sees nothing. Lionel repeats this motion several times until Jack realizes that Father McNeil is behind his partner and the beam. No sooner does Jack realize this when Father Daniel McNeil steps out from behind them. He notices his partner’s service revolver as Daniel places it to the right side of Lionel’s head.

"Where's my boy, you f***!" Jack yells, gun now pointed at Daniel's head from a distance of about 35 feet. "What did you do with my son?"

Daniel replies, "Oh he is safe. In fact, he is in the good and faithful hands of Father Thomas Beasley"....."Isn't that right Father?".......”I said, Isn't That Right Father?" now screaming impatiently. Father Beasley finally steps out from behind the wall and into the decorative opening of the baptismal chamber. He stands there, apparently alone. In one swift move he reaches down and grabs Ben, who has been out of site and unconscious at Thomas' feet and pulls him up by the hair.

Jack screams, "Ben!........Ben!"...Jack now begins to cry. "What did you do Thomas?"....."What did you do to my boy?"

"He's okay, Jack." Thomas assures him. "He was getting ready to answer you and I had to quiet him."

"Is he dead?" Jack yells. "IS HE?"

"Jaaa-aaack," Daniel says, almost singing, his face now up against Lionel's; the gun firmly under his partners chin. Lionel, now tightly gagged, attempts to speak. His words were unintelligible. Daniel takes a quick step back and punches Lionel on the right side of his face. The smack echoed its way around the pews a few times then fades away.

"Now that was rude. Can't you see I'm talking to my friend Jack here?"...."Now Jack, pardon the interruption but as I was saying,…….Now you know I wouldn't kill your boy until the Bells sounded......you do know that much by now, don't you Jack?"

Jack looks to his left and at the clock on the wall in front of the mezzanine section. It was 11:57. He glances at Lionel who looks to be in and out of consciousness now; his face a bloody mess; his white dress shirt now red on one side from his collar to his unhinged shirt tail. His gag so tight it distorts his face in such a way that made him almost unrecognizable. He looks back at Thomas Beasley who is now reaching under his black gown to reveal a nickel plated .45 caliber hand gun. He pulls it out and slowly places it to the right side of Ben's temple.

11:58.

"Daniel, look..," Jack begins to plead..."You don't have to do this...."y-you don't have to kill anymore."...You made your p-poi.."

"Jack..Jack..Jack..Jack"..Daniel interrupts..."Jack, you remember what you said to me before I left for prison?"..."You remember?"

"I remember," Jack says reluctantly.

Daniel continues, "The final bell has rung for me, huh?"..."No it hasn't, Jack...but it will for you," he says while glancing at the clock.
"In about 1 minute it will be all over....now,...lower your gun, Jack."

Jack doesn't comply. Instead he redirects his line of fire and now has his gun pointed directly at Father Beasley. Daniel does likewise and now has his pointed at Jack.

Daniel laughs, "Tick tock, tick tock, Jackie ma boy"...."It's almost over"... C'mon, Jack, show a little dignity."... "Not so tough now are we....Not so f***ing tough, huh J-J..."

The first bell sounds and fills the room with a deafening ring. They all jump. Jack immediately takes 4 quick steps towards Thomas and stops, gun still pointed at his head, now 20 feet away. Thomas gives Ben's head a quick yank and repositions the gun against his temple.

"Don't do it, Jack," Daniel yells over the remnants of the first strike of St Christopher's Bell, now walking towards Jack, gun razed.
"Don't make me shoot you before you get a chance to watch your son die, Jack."
The second Bell sounds.

Jack again takes 4 more steps towards Thomas and his son. This time Daniel fires Bev's revolver and hits Jack in his left shoulder, the power of the blast sends Jack over the baby grand piano and comes to rest at the bottom step that leads up to several rows of empty choir benches. He scrambles towards Jack, ready to shoot off another round if need be. Jack crawls to his knees and looks around for his weapon. He spots it in the center of the pulpit approximately 5 feet away. Daniel walks towards it, gun still pointed at Jack. Daniel glances at Thomas Beasley who is now sweating profusely and shaking uncontrollably, gun still positioned at Ben's right temple.

"No, not yet my friend," Daniel says to Thomas, reading the fateful question in is eyes. "Not quite yet."

The third bell sounds and Daniel steps towards the ornamented window where Ben and Thomas are. He keeps the gun fixed on Jack as he walks up the steps and around the choir benches until he is about 3 feet from them. When the 3rd bell has faded enough for him to speak, he does.

"This is it, Jack," Father Daniel McNeil begins. "When the final bell sounds, Thomas will kill Ben....and I...will kill you."
"Well Jack....Shall we pray?" Daniel begins to laugh but the forth bell quickly silences it. Jack is looking up at Ben now. As he looks at his precious son he begins to weep again and then slowly stands to his feet. He gives Lionel a quick glance and notices him now fully conscious. The pain in Lionel's eyes spoke volumes. He told Jack he was sorry for letting it get this far, but yet never uttered a single word. Jack's gaze falls back on Daniel McNeil, the sounds of laughter returning as the 4th bell fades.

Then the 5th bell sounds. Father Mcneil no longer laughing but staring down at Jack with a sick, prideful look.

"Anything you want to say, Jack?" "Anything to your boy?..huh?"

The 6th bell rings....

the 7th.......

8th......

9th.....

Jack is praying as the 10th bell sounds. He now understands that if his son is going to die, it's best that he die too, whether it will be by Daniel's hand or his own. He finishes his prayer and now just stands there, tears flowing, looking into the face of his own flesh and blood: his only son, just seconds away from dying and nothing he can do about it. He notices how he looked like his mother when she slept. He briefly flashes back to the good times and the rough years after Ben's mother had passed away and how Ben had handled it with such maturity and grace. As the 11th bell sounds, Jack looks up and into the eyes of a killer one last time.

"I'll see you in hell you piece of s**t," Jack screams at Daniel.

"Perhaps you will, Jack my boy."....Perhaps you will!" Father McNeil replies.

"10 seconds, Jack,...the final bell...remember?"

Father Daniel McNeil looks over at Father Thomas Beasley and nods. Almost simultaneously Jack and his partner, Lionel Bevins, close their eyes. Ben, who had been conscious since the 6th or 7th ring now has his eyes wide open. With adrenaline pumped speed and clarity he reaches down his pants and into his briefs, pulling out his father's 45 caliber handgun. He looks straight up as though looking towards heaven, places the barrel of the semi-automatic handgun under the chin of Father Beasley and before he could realize Ben was indeed conscious, he pulls the trigger. The top of Father Beasley's head comes off with one pop. Jack opens his eyes at the sound of the gun hoping not to see his son being slaughtered. Instead he saw Ben,..alive... and now up on his feet, gun drawn and pointed at Father McNeil like a veteran cop. In an instant Daniel takes aim at Jack.
Benjamin Munday squeezes off a barrage of 4 shots, striking Daniel in his left arm, left scapula and the left side of his cheek. He falls immediately.
Jack had already flopped to the pulpit, rolled and retrieved his firearm, and now stands with his weapon razed, pointed at Daniel's head. He notices that Daniel still held onto Bev's service revolver and saw it begin to rise. In a flash Daniel sits up and attempts to fix the weapon back onto Jack. Jack fires off two rounds from his own .40 caliber revolver and watches as Father Daniel McNeil's head is ripped open by the blasts, then slumps over dead.



The Bells at St Christopher (The Final Bell)


2 Months later.


Benjamin and Jack Munday stand across the street from St Christopher’s church, along with half the community of Crystal City. Both, along with Detective Lionel Bevins wait patiently as the demolition of the old church tower and bell is set to commence at 12 noon. That’s when the final 12 rings will be recorded for the last time in the church and town archives. By a narrow margin, city council voted 5-4 to demolish the town’s oldest relic and tradition, the daily ringing of the bells at St Christopher’s Catholic Church. The town was divided but the ever younger city council tilted the vote just enough to get the structure torn down and replaced with a standard clock tower, without the bells and whistles.

Jack and Ben stand next to their Ford Explorer with a U-Haul trailer attached. Although a good number of town folk have turned out to see the bells destruction at 12 o’clock noon, Jack and Ben decided to forgo the celebration and hit the road just before the bells toll; to forgo the silencing of the daily reminder of the carnage that had taken place just two months earlier. They both had spoke in the past month about the irony of never really noticing the bells ringing until that fateful afternoon day just 2 short months ago assured them that no matter where they were or how far away from Chrystal City they go, the ringing of any bell will bring them back, if only for one painful moment.

After saying their goodbyes, Jack and Ben jump into their SUV and head north out of town. As the town dwindles outside their vehicle, the cool fall air rushes through their windows, circulates, and is released back into the chilly afternoon. Then, off in the distance, the final chorus of bells from St Christopher’s church seemed to chase Jack and Ben out of Crystal City and over Hopkin’s Hill until the city was no longer visible in the rear view mirror. The Bells, however, were still audible from 3 miles away. Jack looks over at Ben who now looks sullen and on the verge of tears. Jack reaches down with his left hand and simultaneously hits the buttons that automatically roll up both windows and then pulls his son close with his right arm and holds him until he was sure that the bells of St Christopher had rung for the last time.



The End