The Dust of Death

Chapter 31

"Hey," Tom said. "Hold your horses. I'm coming! I'm coming!"

"Did you purposefully cut off half your foot, Tom?" Phalen asked.

"What on earth kind of question is that?" Tom said. "Only a fool would do something as stupid as that! Come inside, Phalen. You are distraught. What has happened to put you in such a state?"

"I've thought a lot about all that you've told me, Tom. And you should know that I've also talked to Carrie."

"You what!" Tom exploded. "How dare you, Phalen. Leave Carrie out of this. She's got nothing to do with whatever complaint you have against me. Carrie's family, Phalen. Leave my family alone."

"But why should you care? According to Carrie, you've had nothing to do with your family for years."

"That doesn't concern you."
"Then," said Phalen, "why did you desert them?"

"I haven't deserted them. My father and I had a falling out. It was foolish. Stupid, really. But now, he's dead. There's nothing I can do to rectify it."

"But you're a priest. Aren't you supposed to forgive and forget?" asked Phalen.

"Oh, I tried. I made overtures to my father, but he wanted nothing to do with me," said Tom.

"Convenient," said Phalen.

"What do you mean?"

"Your father's dead," said Phalen. "And there's no way for me to corroborate what you're telling me."

"What in the hell are you implying?" stormed Tom.

"I have been chasing my tail on so many things," Phalen said. "I don't know what to believe, any more."

"About what, for example?" said Tom.

"Have the police contacted you any more about Sophie Jenson?" Phalen asked.

"No," Tom said. "There's nothing much in the papers. I think the police don't have a clue as to who killed that poor child."

"You're probably right. From what I heard, the investigation was bungled from the start."

"I cannot believe you still suspect me," said Tom. "Of all people."

"Well, you must admit, Tom, your answers to some of my questions were vague and misleading."

"Misleading? How so, Phalen," Tom said. "I didn't know you were investigating me."

"Well," Phalen said, "I wasn't. Officially."

"You have my sincerest apologies," Tom said. "If you feel I have misled you, in any way, I am sorry. I assure you it was unintentional. Give me a chance to set the record straight, to prove myself to you. Fire away."

"Well, I really found it suspicious that the night I was outside the shelter, you sat in my car, remember?"

"Yes. I scared you out of your wits, I think," said Tom. "Unintentionally, of course."

"Umm. It was a particularly quiet night. Nothing was stirring. Yet, about an hour after you said you were going to bed that fire broke out in your bedroom."

"And," said Father Tom.

"You said the boy used a crude incendiary device, a brick wrapped in a blazing rag, and you would not let me have a look. Why? What were you hiding? Where did you go after you left my car? Why was there a bleeding wound on your hand? I gave you a handkerchief to stop the bleeding, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. There was no need for you to investigate, Phalen. It was a brick and a rag and a lot of broken glass. What could that have possibly told you?