Jesuit

of chest, approximately four centimetres in diameter; appears to be from earlier injury. Operational scar on right abdomen; faded; appears to be from surgery of a minimum of ten years ago.”

She then looked closely along both arms. “Immunisation scar on upper right arm, of indeterminate age. Possibly from childhood.” Knowing the method of the killings, she bent closer so that her eyes were a mere inch from the scar.

“Here, Sallie,” said Graham, handing her his magnifying glass, “Try this,”

She took it from him and continued the inspection. After careful study, she breathed: “Yes. There it is.” Then remembering that she was recording all her comments, she became official. “Appears to be minute speckle of blood from microscopic puncture in centre of immunisation scar, administered within the last twelve hours.”

Sallie completed her examination then rolled the victim onto his face again, in his original position. She stood and walked away, removing the mask and gloves as she went. Graham and Flint followed.

Catching up with Sallie, Graham asked: “Well, Sallie. Is it our man?”

She stopped and turned to him. “As you know, Graham, I don’t like to commit myself until a full examination can be completed, but I would say that the indications point heavily in that direction. There does appear to be a tiny new puncture mark in the immunisation scar, so it certainly looks as though it’s the work of the same person. Judging by the face, I would also say that he died as a result of some sort of poisoning.”

All three exchanged grim glances. “We’ve got to get this person!” spat Graham. “He’s not going to stop, that’s quite plain to see.” Turning to Flint, he said: “George. Can you get the wheels in motion; house to house again and all that?”

“Well, Graham. What I will do, is check our last reports and dismiss those who are most unlikely to provide help — the housebound and such — and get my lads to interview the rest. I’ll also get notices up around the locality and put something out on local radio.”

“Good man.”

“Is there anything particular you’d like to put to the public?”

Graham thought about this before replying. “Yes, George. There is something. Just a niggling doubt that lies with me.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

A little sheepishly, Graham said: “Ask if anyone has noticed a particular vehicle; one that isn’t familiar, in the vicinity.”

Sallie knew what he was getting at, but George wasn’t aware of Graham’s vague suspicions. “Okay. Will do.” Then, looking quizzically at the detective, he asked: “Do you have a particular vehicle in mind?”

Graham explained about the constant appearances of the Jesuit and that it left him just a little puzzled. Something didn’t sit right with him.

George paused to take it in. “Do you suspect the Jesuit, Graham?” he asked in some surprise.

“Not entirely. No. He seems to be very open and he does seem genuinely concerned about the effect on the families. I also notice the effect he has on people, myself included. It’s as though being in the presence of a really holy man.”

George and Sallie nodded in agreement. A lewd sexual thought briefly entered Sallie’s mind as she pictured the Jesuit, then it was gone. An imperceptible shudder ran through her body.

“Even so, something about him just gnaws at me. Can’t explain what. Just a feeling.” By now the trio had reached their vehicles. They said their farewells to George and let him know where they would be staying for the night, at which point George drove off.

Back at the hotel, they entered the main lounge and bar where the Landlord, Alexander Brighouse, was in the middle of expounding his greater knowledge of the stage at which the investigations were at in the recent killings, to a couple of avidly listening men.

Seeing the entrance of the two officers, he shouted a hearty greeting: “Hello, there! Come and have a drink — on the house!” he called. The invitation was gratefully accepted; a drink was just what they needed. They stood alongside the two men at the bar and told Alexander what drinks they would like. Before turning to pour them, he tapped the side of his not inconsiderable nose with a forefinger, in a knowing fashion. “I’m not giving any secrets away,” he said conspiratorially.

Sallie smiled at Graham, who returned it with a wink.

As he laid the drinks on the counter before them, Alexander bawled: “Time, gentlemen, please!” The voice almost deafened them and they both jerked backwards in surprise. “We have beds to go to, you know!” came the loud voice again.

As the patrons shuffled about, drinking the remains of their glasses, retrieving coats and moving through the exit doors, Graham glanced at his watch: twenty minutes past eleven. By law, Alexander should have stopped serving at eleven!

Anticipating a long-drawn out conversation with the exuberant Landlord should they be left alone with him, Graham and Sallie quickly downed their drinks and made their exit, offering a pleasant, “Goodnight, Landlord. Could you give us a call around seven in the morning, please?”

“Certainly. No problem — no problemo,” he said as he waved a hand to them. They hurried up the stairs and entered Sallie’s room together.

Once in bed, appreciating each other’s bodies, exploring with urgent hands, the sex began; eager ravenous, loving. Graham had an occasional flash of Bethany’s smiling face but quickly overcame the guilt initially felt, while Sallie, unaccountably, entertained several vivid pictures of the Jesuit, calling to her, displaying himself in his full, naked perfection.

“Rape me, you bastard!” she hissed. Graham, naturally thinking she meant him, pleased that his lovemaking was turning her on to such an extent, increased his efforts manfully.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

At that time, Ignatious, having arrived on the outskirts of Pangbourne and finding a suitable spot in which to rest the night, was just snuggling into his bed, covered only by a single, cotton sheet, the night being once more warm. In minutes, his mind and conscience totally clear, he was in a deep sleep.

Bit by bit, second by second, the pictures of his dream serial returned, with flashes of earlier events appearing as a trailer for a forthcoming movie. He turned, now restless, in his sleep.

As time wore on, Ignatious perfected his new powers, frequently testing them on the varied wildlife that abounded. He had also begun to notice that the attitude of the tribal women and the children had gradually altered towards him. They were now in some kind of awe. Children would stare at him and move out of his way as he moved around. Sometimes, they would fall to their knees when he spoke to them and would carry out his wishes immediately. Women, the more perceptible species, tended to stand for an inordinate length of time, looking into his eyes and his soul. It was puzzling and a little unnerving. This change in behaviour could be traced back to the time around when Ignatious had perfected his mind-skills. Even though it had been accepted that he was different from the other strangers on arrival, he now seemed to be regarded as something nearing the status of the Elder.

To the religious group, life here had taken on a feeling of near paradise. They wanted for nothing and life meandered on in a truly pleasant and friendly manner. The duty to which they were bound had taken a decidedly backward step as none wanted to break the spell of this charming life. Religious instruction had been suspended, not to be reawakened. These decisions had come about naturally, no one actually discussing and formulating a considered plan.

Then, due to the worst aspect of the age-old basic instinct of man, the pleasant life turned upon its head.

In the midst of the usual daily workings of the community, food gathering, construction work, cooking, washing, playing and chatting, a small cry was heard, coming from the denseness of the outlying jungle. It was rather faint and caused groups to pause in their activities, unsure as to whether or not they had actually heard something. After the slight pause, life continued as before.

From his position, at the top of a newly erected water tower, applying some finishing touches,