The Dust of Death

Chapter 14

Flix shook his head at the enormous number of paper bags that littered his apartment.

"Well, Baby," he said to the little dog looking up at him in anticipation, "it looks like a very long day ahead. I bet you most of this stuff is what good, old Dr. Blaine says it is – garbage. But, we'll never know until I have looked at it all. Why am I even bothering? Nothing I find will be admissible in a court of law."

But Flix knew why.

There was a murderer of a little girl who was still walking the streets. He would do everything in his power to catch the criminal. Even if it meant wasting his time and money, and possibly, failing.

"Where to start? Where to start? Do you have any ideas, Baby?"

Baby barked.

"Right you are," Flix said, bending over and picking up the bag lying nearest to his feet.

He moved to his desk by the window and carefully opened up bag number one. He shook his head, peering inside at the two cola bottles that stared back at him.

"Probably leftovers from a lovers' tryst," he muttered, and sat down to work.

It was late evening when his telephone rang.

"It's me," Phalen said. "I'm coming over."

"Good. I'll be expecting you," Flix said, hanging up the receiver.

"Come, Baby," Flix said. "If you are anything like me, your bladder is just about to burst."

The little dog jumped up, barking excitedly when Flix picked up her leash. The two finished their walk. Flix recognized Phalen's automobile as it parked by the curb.

"Timing is everything, my friend," Flix said, as Phalen got out of the car.

"Hello, Baby," Phalen said. "Any news from Jessie?

"She is taking a few more weeks before coming home. I got a telegram from her, earlier today."

"Well, Baby," Phalen said, picking up the little dog, "you look as if you are faring quite well under the care of your new master."

"Don't give Baby ideas, Phalen," Flix said. "You go right back to Miss Jessie the moment she returns, Baby. I am not your new master. I am only the temporary babysitter."

"What do you know about Catholic confessions," Phalen asked Flix.

"Not much," Flix said. "Only what I've read. I'm not Catholic, you know. I do remember reading that whatever is said in a confessional is sacred. The priest cannot divulge anything that is confessed. If he does, he faces excommunication. Are you planning to confess some horrible sin to me?"

Flix smiled.

"If you do," Flix said, "you know I am bound by no code of silence."

"No. Of course not. But my friend, Father Tom, is in trouble. A witness has come forth who saw a man matching Tom's description entering the woods the day that girl went missing. From what Tom said and the way he's acting, I believe he's protecting someone. My guess is that it's one of those boys he is always trying to rescue off the streets. He has a place beside his church where he feeds them, shelters them, and tries to point them down the right road. But you know these street urchins, Cupid. Some of them are ruthless."

"Yes," said Flix. "Some have the faces of angels but absolutely no hearts. I have seen some of these children you are talking about. They may do the vilest things and act like it is nothing. No conscience. They feel no remorse at all. I believe part of it comes from their experiences on the streets. Some of them have been dealt a cruel hand. Too young to experience horrors beyond our imagination, they are blighted. So many have been forced to survive under the most inhumane circumstances. But like gutter rats, they somehow do."