Criminal Intent

"Father forgive me for I have sinned. "Father forgive me for I have sinned. "Father forgive me for I have" Helen's voice broke off. She was breathless. She had murmured the words a hundred times, a thousand perhaps. But it didn't seem to help. Nothing seemed to help. She was on her knees in the church prayer garden, surrounded by birch trees and flowering plants and multicolored azaleas, a Garden of Eden recreated. Was she Adam, the one who submits to temptation and therefore must be cast out? Or was she Eve, the temptress who leads others to sin and degradation? "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done . . ." Her hands were folded and her head was bowed. She was saying the words, chanting them like some arcane ritual. But who was listening? Who would hear the prayers of a woman who had done what she had done? Had done and been doing for years, she thought, and the sickness took hold of her, sending waves of nausea throughout her body. She doubled over in agony. At first, what they did had not bothered her. Or perhaps it had, but somehow she managed to suppress the guilt, to bury her true feelings in a morass of rationalization and intellectual posturing. And then one morning, not long ago, she awoke and realizedshe was a sinner. A pawn of Satan. What she had donewhat they all had donewas worse than mere sin. It was complete and utter corruption. Moral bankruptcy. It was evil. "Father forgive me for I have sinned. "Father forgive me for I have sinned. "Father forgive me for I have sinned." She recited the words over and over again, but she obtained no comfort from them. She glared up at the ebony sky, but she found no answer, no release. What was she going to do now? She had gathered some of the others, had talked to them about it. Some had even admitted they shared her feelings. But it wasn't enough. Talking would never be enough. Action was required. She had to do something. She heard a noise behind her, from somewhere deeper in the prayer garden. The door at the base of the bell tower was closing. But who would be in there at this time of night? Was it the priest? One of the church regulars? An irrational fear gripped her. She didn't want to be seen, not in here, not now, not like this. "What are you doing?" She let out a small sigh of relief when she saw who it was. Nothing to worry about there. "I'm just . . . having a quiet moment. Spending some time alone. If you wouldn't mind . . ." "Could you please help me?" Helen tried not to frown. This was one of the inescapable realities of being in a churchthere was always someone who needed help. An old woman wanting someone to run after her groceries. An Altar Guild guy recruiting help with the cleanup. And it always seemed to come at the least convenient time. "I don't know. . . ." "Please. I really really really need your help." "What is it?" "I saw something in the garden, near the base of the tower. Something strange and . . . frightening." Helen pushed herself to her feet. "Show me." She followed down the cobbled sidewalk toward the bell tower, in one of the most isolated and secluded parts of the labyrinthine prayer garden. There were two marble benches flanking a small recess planted with honeysuckle and flowered hedges. Many of the parishioners had buried the ashes of loved ones here; a tall marble obelisk behind one of the benches stood as a memorial. "So? . . .Bernhardt, William is the author of 'Criminal Intent' with ISBN 9780345441751 and ISBN 0345441753.