Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) (41 page)

Judge Taylor turned to John and said, “It seems everything is in order. I see that Tom Green Jr.’s parents are here, so we may continue with these proceedings. You may be seated, Mister District Attorney.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” John replied as he sat back in his seat, and then began to write additional notes on his legal pad.

Directing his attention towards Tom and Helen, Judge Taylor asked them, “Mr. and Mrs. Green Senior, would you please stand?”

Tom and Helen Green stood to their feet and waited for his instructions.

The judge asked them, “Do you have any concerns you would like to add before I give my judgment?”

Tom replied, “No, sir. After visiting with the sheriff, we both agree to sign whatever papers are necessary. Anything that could bring a final resolution to this tragedy would be a welcome relief.”

Judge Taylor held his gavel. “It is the court’s decision with all parties present and in agreement that the remains of one Thomas Green, Jr. will be exhumed for further analysis. You may begin the procedures. We will take a thirty-minute recess before hearing other cases. District Attorney and Sheriff Johnson, please meet me in my chambers in ten minutes.”

Judge Taylor slammed his gavel down on his mallet and scribbled his signature on the last page of the legal document. Once finished, he handed the document back to the bailiff and stood up. Smiling slightly at Sheriff Johnson, he nodded in recognition.

Suddenly, the bailiff’s voice echoed in the courtroom, “All rise.”

With that, Judge Taylor turned and opened the door, then left the courtroom. The bailiff walked over and handed the document to John, nodded and then walked away.

Sheriff Johnson looked over at John and smiled, completely satisfied with the ruling.

* * * *

Leaning back against the wall while sitting on a hard bench, Mother Superior Mary Ellen quietly prayed. Many things inundated her mind, and peace eluded her.
What is going to become of me? What’s going to happen to my sisters? Who will oversee the monastery?
As she closed her eyes tightly, stinging tears streamed down her wrinkled cheek. Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by shouting.

“Hey you!” In the holding cell across the walkway, a young woman named Rosie stood and grabbed the cell door bars. Looking directly at Mother Superior, she raised her voice, “Hey lady!”

Mother Superior opened her eyes and lifted her head to look directly at Rosie. “Are you speaking to me, child?”

Rosie straightened her back up as her face contorted with arrogance. “Who are you calling a child? I ain’t your child. Who do you think you are anyway, lady?” Turning to one side, Rosie spit on the concrete floor. “Child? I ain’t yer freakin’
child
.”

In the nearby cell, a faint voice pleaded, “Leave her alone, Rosie. She’s a nun. They help people.”

Placing her hands on her hip, Rosie replied, “She never helped me. Why should I care about her?”

“She isn’t a bad person and shouldn’t be in here like we are.”

Mother Superior stood up and approached the cell bars. Scanning the other cells, she couldn’t see who was talking.
How did she know that?
she thought to herself.

Studying Mother Superior from head to toe, Rosie furrowed her brow as she asked, “Lady, are you one of those nuns I’ve seen walking around hospitals all of the time and holding on to some long necklace with beads on it?” Rosie laughed, but then quickly began coughing violently from years of smoking.

Mother silently stood at the door as she held onto the cell bars.

Rosie impatiently asked again, “Well, are ya’ a nun?”

“Yes, I am, but I run a Catholic school now.”

Rosie’s mouth dropped. “Hey, ya’ll! We got’us one of those preacher ladies in here. C’mon, nun, preach to us. Tell us a good story.” Rosie smiled, showing off her gold teeth.

In an attempt to control her emotions, Mother Superior swallowed hard and spoke softly, “I don’t preach. I serve the Lord in other ways.”

Once again, Rosie began coughing heavily. “I guess you ain’t been serving him too well, since you’re in here with us.”

Mother Superior sighed as she stared at the floor.
I wish they would stop teasing me,
she thought. Looking up at Rosie, she asked, “Why are you in here?”

Rosie leaned her head to one side and replied, “I don’t have to tell you that just because yer’ are dressed up in that Halloween costume. That ain’t none of your business, Lady!”

“If you confess your sins, God will forgive you.”

Rosie leaned back and bellowed, “Did you hear that, people? She told us God will forgive us if we say what we did. What do I care? Like I’m gonna’ do that!” Rosie’s eyes bugged out as she stretched her neck.

* * * *

Once the court proceedings had recessed, Peter stood up and walked over to Tom Green, Sr. Reaching out to shake Tom’s hand, Peter introduced himself. “Mr. Green, I’m Dr. Peter Balkan, forensic pathologist for the Office of Chief Medical Examiner for the State of Maine. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.”

Tom’s eyes slightly watered as he shook Peter’s hand. After releasing his grasp, he dropped his arms by his sides. “With all due respect, I’m not too happy to be back here, but I appreciate your gesture. Are you the one who will be running tests on my son’s body?”

Peter looked at him square in the eyes, “Yes, sir, and I assure you that I will treat your son’s remains with utmost dignity and respect.”

“All right, Doctor Balkan,” Tom’s bottom chin quivered slightly. Reaching for his white handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped his bloodshot his eyes.

Upon seeing her husband’s emotional reaction, Helen gently placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Honey, everything is going to be okay,” she said as a single tear streamed down her cheek.

After taking a few deep cleansing breaths, he turned to her and said, “I’m okay. Let’s just sign the papers we need to and leave. Please?”

With concern in his voice, Peter responded, “I’m sure that they have everything ready for you. District Attorney Smith should be able to help you with all of that,” Peter said while pointing at John. “He’ll have you back on your way home as soon as possible. For what it’s worth, I’m very sorry to have to do this, but it could help catch a murderer before he kills anyone else.”

“Thank you, Dr. Balkan. I’m sure you’ll do your best.” Tom turned and approached John and said, “Hello, sir. Please, tell me what we need to do, so we can get this over with and head home. It’s a bit of a drive, and I’d like to get there before it gets dark.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. and Mrs. Green. I know this is incredibly difficult for you.”

Picking up a page from a stack on the table, John gestured for the older couple to take a seat. The Greens complied and John proceeded to explain the documents to them.

“Do you have any more questions, Mr. and Mrs. Green?” John asked.

“No, we don’t. You’re the ones that have to ask the questions now,” Tom replied as he looked John directly in the eyes. “I hope that whatever you find, be it good or bad, will help everyone to have closure once and for all.”

With a deep sigh, Tom reached for a pen and reluctantly signed on the line that John pointed to. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head and handed the pen to his wife.

Helen took it from him and braced the paper as she added her signature below Tom’s. With the last stroke of the pen, a myriad of memories flooded her mind. Laying it down on the table beside her, she stated softly, “I always knew my Tommy didn’t kill himself. Please catch my baby’s killer so that justice is done.”

“We’ll do our best, ma’am,” John replied, taking the papers and stacking them neatly in his briefcase.

Peter added, “That’s all we need for now. If we find anything out, we will let you know right away.”

“Thank you both, and good luck.” With that, Tom and Helen stood up and slowly made their way towards the doors to leave.

C
HAPTER
37

Whistling a tune that had been stuck in his head all day, Deputy Shamberg walked down the hallway towards the men’s cellblock. The familiar rhythm of his heavy footsteps echoed throughout the jail corridor, announcing his approach to the inmates housed there. Keys rattled from his utility belt as he passed by a young man’s cell.

A scruffy-faced inmate, with dirty blonde hair and wearing an orange prison uniform, stood up in hopes of being released. Sticking his hand out from between the metal bars, he spoke in a low tone, “Deputy?”

“What is it, Toby?”

The young man with a short beard and mustache gave a faint smile. Deep purple bruises marred his face; evidence from the bar fight during the previous night. The large knot on his forehead covered in a dozen color hues, was a strong reminder of the brawl which required his opponent go to the hospital ER.

“Know anything about when I can get out of here?”

“Toby, I haven’t heard anything yet. Your lawyer will be the first to know; not me.”

Discouraged, Toby sighed as he watched Deputy Shamberg walk in the direction of the guard station.

Reaching the doorway, he swiped his card to release the lock. Opening the door, he walked into the central hub guard station. Nodding to the deputy on duty, he stopped in front of the sparse desk. “Mother Superior has a lawyer here. I’m gonna’ take her to meet with him.”

“No problem. Don’t forget to sign her out, please,” the bored deputy said, as he pushed a clipboard through a slot in the Plexiglas window protecting his desk. Smiling politely, he returned his attention to the latest comedy hit show playing on the small television in the corner.

Looking at his watch, Deputy Shamberg grabbed his pen and leaned down to fill out the clipboard form then pushed it back. “Thanks! I think this will take care of it. I’ll bring her back right after they’re done.”

Halfway listening, the deputy chuckled as something amused him. Waving at Deputy Shamberg, he replied, “No problem.”

“Thanks,” Shamberg replied to the deputy, who barely noticed.

Sitting at a desk just outside the woman’s cellblock, Deputy Stephanie Simms stopped reading her magazine as Deputy Shamberg approached. She smiled as she looked him directly in the eyes. “You need to get one of the inmates?” she asked with a friendly tone.

“Yes, Steph. I need Mother Superior Mary Ellen, please.”

Deputy Simms bookmarked her page in the magazine, set it down on the desk, and proceeded to lead her colleague to Mother Superior’s cell. Swiping her card, she waited for the familiar buzzing noise. Continuing on to their destination, she opened the door and into the corridor for the female’s cellblock. Passing by four cells, they stopped to find an elderly lady sitting quietly on her cell’s bench.

The dark circles draped below Mother Superior’s eyes were a blatant sign of sleep loss, due to hours of prayer.
I wonder if my prayers are being heard; or, are they just hitting the ceiling?
she thought to herself.

A woman’s loud voice broke the silence. “Thanks for getting her out of here. I’m tired of hearing that holy rolla’ prayin’ all day.” Grabbing the metal cell bars, the large woman with cropped off hair continued to yell from the across the aisle. “Look at you, all dressed up in yer’ prayin’ dress from one of those big churches. I hear ya’ whisperin’ and prayin’ those jibber-jabber prayers all the time, and I’m sick of it. You think they would do you some good, but look! You still in here, just like the rest of us! Prayers ain’t heard here, Preacher Lady. Don’t ya’ know that?”

“Quiet down over there, Rosie. This has nothing to do with you. Don’t cause any trouble. You’ve gotten in enough trouble already,” Deputy Simms reprimanded her.

“We have ta’ listen to her constant talking ta’ God. Just lettin’ her know what we think about it.” Small tattoos decorated each knuckle as she held on to the bars. “Hey, Preacher Lady! What you get in here for anyways? Stealing one of those Bibles from the motel rooms? I know what it was. Talkin’ someone to death!” she said, laughing so hard that she started coughing.

Mother sat on her bench as a tear streamed down her face. “I did nothing to deserve being here. Praying to God brings me comfort though.”

“Jail’s full of innocent people, Sista’. Don’t ya’ know that by now?”