The Perfect Crime Pt. 07: The End

Then I noticed the older gentleman sitting at a large wooden desk. He looked to be about in his early fifties, slightly balding, with what appeared to be a medium-sized halo on his head.

He appeared to be reading a large gold book. Occasionally, he would make a gesture with his right hand, and a page would turn. Behind him stood a young man, blonde hair, about 25, tall, muscular, in a white kilt-type garment. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he had a somber look on his face.

The older man looked up and harumphed as he saw me. He returned his attention to reading the book in front of him. I started to sweat and resumed looking around.

There were no doors or other features in the room. Sweet heavenly music softly filled the air. It was calm and soothing. I was beginning to get antsy, when the older man closed the book with a sideways gesture, sighed, and looked up at me.

"Do you know why you are here?" he asked.

"I assume it is to answer for my sins. I have not led a great life."

I notice that he was garbed in a light, off-white colored toga style garment, and he seemed to be a little uncomfortable. "That is correct. You have done some truly amazingly good things in your life, and should be commended. Unfortunately, there are a few very bad things of late that need to be answered for."

"Forgive me, Lord, I know I have done some very evil things of late, and I make no excuse for them. I will accept what my fate has in store for me."

He raised his eyebrows and looked at me with a smug expression. "I am not He," he said, with a gesture to the sky. "He is otherwise occupied. My name is Peter. I have been referred to as a Saint on earth, but you can just call me Peter."

"And who is the young man, standing behind you??" I asked.

"He is Michael, your guardian angel. He is here to bear witness to your life."

"An Archangel?? Oh, my word!!" ( You can't take God's name in vain, after all. Not here.)

"AAH,... no. Not that Michael. He is just an angel, selected at random at your birth. Saint Michael is also otherwise occupied." He harrumphed again. Michael smirked a bit and resumed his stoic stand.

"Sorry, I assumed."

"You know what assumed did, don't you?"

AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN'T TELL A JOKE???

"Yes, well, what have you to say in your defense?"

"Nothing, sir. I just want to know that Jillian and little Sonia are alright. I can take anything else if I know that."

He gestured to the window, and there were Jillian, and Sonia being escorted to Terry's unmarked car, preparatory to leaving the Waffle House. "They are fine. You took the projectiles meant for them." He gestured again, and the window returned to its dismal view.

"So; what have you to say for yourself?"

"I have no excuses. I was wronged in my life, but it does not justify what I did. I will take whatever punishment is deemed necessary."

He looked at me and shook his head. "What you did was filled with malice and hate. Have you ever acted with malice before?"

"Only once, sir. When I was in the military. I was sorry then, as it was demeaning and unprofessional."

Michael spoke for the first time. "It is true, sir." Peter turned and looked at Michael.

"He was on patrol with his squad, in a small village; he led his men around a corner, and came upon a group of 7 insurgents standing over 4 bullet-riddled bodies, with a fifth body twitching in the dust. The 4 bodies were the family of the small girl who was gravely wounded. James immediately took action, and shot down the 7 insurgents, and rushed to the small child's form.

"He was joined by his squad's medic, as his remaining men took up defensive positions around them."

"I got this, Lt." the medic said, as he started to minister to the little girl's wounds. He started an I.V. and applied bandages. Two of his men were checking the two adults and the teenaged girl and boy for signs of life. They shook their heads. He went to the insurgent's bodies with another Marine and started checking for any intelligence materials. The radio operator called for dustoff, and they made ready to move her to their Humvees. "What about the family?" his platoon sergeant said.

"Load them up in the Humvee's, and transport them back to the firebase. We will see if we can find any relatives."

"What about the bad guys?"

"Leave them to their God's mercy."

We pulled out, and loaded the bodies, booked it to the L/Z, and loaded the little girl, and our medic, onto the chopper. They took off for the firebase, and we high-tailed it to the base.

We arrived, and they already had her in surgery. That was when the adrenaline wore off, and he started to shake. He stayed outside the surgery unit for about 1 1/2 hours, until the chaplain, a catholic major in the American Air Force, came and got him. They went and talked at an outside patio area, for about an additional 3 hours, while he unburdened himself, and the chaplain heard his confession.

Then he went to the surgery tent and got there just as the doctor, an attractive red-headed Army Captain, came out, wiping sweat from her face.

"How is the little girl, doc?"

"You the Marine that brought her in?"

"Me and my squad, yes ma'am. How'd she do?"

"You saved her life, Lt. The chopper ride, and the first aid did the trick. You guys deserve a medal."

"Thanks, Capt."

"That was the only time he let malice infringe on his judgment, or feelings, sir. ...Until that night" stated Michael.

Peter shook his head and said it was one time too many. "We must deal with this transgression, for the sake of justice. I don't know how to ..."

Just then the music changed, replaced by celestial singing, and bright lights on one side of the room. A bright cloud suddenly appeared and spread outward. Four beings appeared from the cloud, a single woman, followed by three maidens.

The woman was dressed in a powder blue shift from her neck to her ankles, with a snow-white mantle flowing from her head, down her arms to her wrists. She had a gold belt around her waist, and gold sandals on her feet. On her head was a large, shiny gold halo, adorned with springtime flowers. She had a radiant look on her face, and if Jillian's smile would light up the room, this woman would illuminate the universe. The three handmaidens were in similar attire, but not as sumptuous, and with smaller halos.

The beautiful woman strode forward, followed by the handmaidens.

Saint Peter rose, and facing the woman, bowed from the waist parallel to the floor, and put his right hand over his heart. Michael dropped to his knees, bowed his head, and placed his right hand over his heart. The lady smiled, and, if possible, lit up the room even more.

"Holy Mother, you are welcome here. How may we be of service?"

"Arise, Michael. ...It is good to see you, Peter, my friend. May I sit down?"

"Of course, Holy Mother."

She turned as if to sit, and a gold throne, padded and upholstered in light blue suede, with gold and cedar inlaid armrests, appeared behind her. She sat, looked upwards, smiled, and said "Thank you, my Son."

There was a gentle peal of summer thunder. James shuttered, and blanched.

"Well, you must be James Tremaine," the August Presence said staring at me. "You have brought much interest here."

James swallowed three times, but could not get any words to form. She chuckled and turned to Saint Peter.

"Well, Peter, the Powers That Be may be otherwise occupied, but I am very much interested. So what do we know of this situation?"

"Holy Mother, this man has led a most admiral life, until about 3 1/2 weeks ago. Then he committed a most egregious act. He murdered his wife and 10 other individuals. In cold blood. With malice."

Wow; I was looking at some bad p.r. here. But what could I say? What could I do??

'I'm screwed' I thought. I was so alone. 'At least Jillian and Sonia are all right. I can live, or die with this. Thank you, God. I guess I have to make amends.'

The lady looked at me and shook her head sadly. "We should be able to use some empathy here, as the victims were not above reproach. Don't you think so, Peter?"

"Holy Mother, surely justice must be served."

The Lady looked thoughtful for a moment, raised her eyes, and gestured over her right shoulder.

"What of Mary Magdalene, my Son's most beloved disciple, along with John. He forgave her all her sins, and loved her unconditionally."

The pretty maiden on the lady's right side bowed slightly and smiled.

"And what of Sophone, the Samaritan woman My Son met at the fountain, and asked for a drink of water?"

The woman directly behind her bowed slightly and smiled knowingly.

"She was unclean, being a Samaritan, and was...ahh.. 'involved' with several men, not her husband. Just speaking with her was abhorrent. Yet He conversed with her, and accepted a drink from her hands."

"And then there was Roshalan, who was dragged from the city of Jerusalem to outside the gate, having been caught in adultery. Thrown to the ground in from of My Son and his disciples while He was preaching, clad only in a sheet, with the admonition that she should be punished."

The third young woman bowed and closed her eyes, and seemed to be whispering a prayer. She straightened and smiled.

"My Son surveyed the crowd, and started to draw on the ground, looking into the hearts of the crowd, and one by one they slunk away. When He raised His eyes and looked around, He saw no one to bear witness. He asked her "Is there no one to cast the first stone?"

"No one, Lord."

"Then neither do I condemn you. Go now, and sin no more."

"Holy Mother, surely mercy should be considered, but this is much greater than that."

"Indeed, it is Peter. And we should consider all aspects. All inputs. All parts of the equation."

"Exactly, Holy Mother!!"

"And any calling or beseeching for mercy should be noted. So if a single voice cries out for him, this should be recognized."

"Absolutely correct, Holy Mother!!"

With that, she gestured to the window, and a scene of the waiting room at the hospital was revealed.

IT WAS PACKED!! There must have been forty or more people crammed into it. Ginger and Terry, Janine and Joe, Fr. Jerome, the Garzas, Art and Consuelo, Allan and Joanne Dowling, Giselle, Samuel Lodge, his daughter Gloria and her husband, Pete, Mike, Tony, and several of our other investigators, secretaries, office staffs, friends, and people I didn't even recognize. And over by the window, in the corner, were Jillian ...and Sonia.

"The child has been crying for James since he was taken from the restaurant. She is heartbroken... for her 'daddy'." She turned her face towards me and saw the tears on my face. "You have made a wonderful impression on this child."

Peter's eyes were downcast, and he finally broke the silence. "So what do you propose we do, Holy Mother?"

"This man has made a significant impression on many people's lives; he was severely wronged by those he loved, and is adored by those he left behind. I think some compassion is warranted. What do you think?"

Peter sighed. "As always, Holy Mother, you have a valid point." St. Peter knew he had been outmaneuvered.

"Many people above and below are paying attention to this. Even some of those below not on earth. We must do right."

His eyes narrowed, and he smiled. "Perhaps we could sentence him to return, and make amends on Earth by raising and loving this child," he turned his eyes to James," and marrying the young woman, and swearing to love, honor, and obey, in sickness, and in health, forsaking all others, as long as they both shall live?"

The Holy Mother smiled; James' heart lept, and she said "Well put, Peter."

She turned to me: "Do you think you could do this, my son?"

He was beside himself with joy at the celestial reprieve he had been given.

"Yes, Holy Mother. Absolutely. You bet. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

She grinned. "Don't be so quick to agree. Being a father is hard work. I believe someone talked to you about being there for the bad times, as well as the good. You have only had the good side. And as far as loving the young woman, it would appear that you have made significant progress on that front." She leveled a stare at him, and he blushed down to his chest cavity. "See to it that you BEHAVE yourself until after the wedding." O.K., now the blushing went a little further down. It's not every day you get lectured by the Mother of God.

"Absolutely, Holy Mother. You can count on it."

She smiled that radiant smile again, and turned to Peter, saying "I think that, as they say on earth, We have a deal; don't you think, Peter?"

Saint Peter bowed, smiled, and said "As you say, Holy Mother."

"James, don't disappoint me. Love them both, and raise that child as if she was your own."

"I will, Holy Mother."

"I believe you will. You have some friends in high places and a couple in earthly spots. Be good, now."

"Alright, ladies, our work here is done. Let us adjourn for vespers."

The Mother of God rose, and her throne vanished. She turned Her gaze skyward again and smiled. "Thank you once again, My Son. Such a good Boy" She told the maidens. Once again, the peal of gentle summer thunder rolled through the room.

She bowed to all present, and they all turned to the mist. The music rose slightly, and the four ladies vanished from sight.

Saint Peter smiled, and turned to James again, and harrumped once more. "All right, my son, you have been judged, and you have your sentence, such as it is. Mark you, we will be watching you. Don't let us down."

James shook as he contemplated the most difficult court win of his life. And he had only been the client!! His toga turned to off-white; he looked to the window, and noticed the sky had cleared, the tree was green and blooming. The river was clean and running free. Birds were flying in the valley, and the sun was beaming brightly.

"Go now, and sin no more" intoned Saint Peter.

James felt dizzy and started to feel weak. His eyes started to blur, and the background sounds turned to...

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep- the sounds of an operating room.

"He's stirring a bit, doctor" spoke the anesthesiologist. "Blood pressure 140 over 80; Pulse 80 and steady. He looks good, doc."

"I think that about does it," said the surgeon, studying the x-rays on the glowing illuminator. The head nurse smoothly moved around the operating table, wiped brows, retrieved sponges, handed clamps to the surgeon, and adjusted lights and covers. She made sure everything was running smoothly and was ready to assist in the closing.

The surgeon handed the three retrieved bullets to the circulating nurse. "Get these out to the police," he said. "Good work everyone," said the surgeon, as he stepped back, and surveyed his team's handiwork. He looked up at the clock and saw 4 1/2 hours had elapsed since surgery had started. Everything looked good, so he peeled off his scrubs, and went to relieve himself.

He came out of the toilet, and scrubbed up his hands and arms, dried them, and checked on his patient. He found his chief scrub nurse, checked the forms, initialed here, here, and here, wrote a few orders, and then signed his name. "Now for the good part," as he smiled, and made his way to the waiting room.

He pushed open the suite doors and was immediately greeted with a hush. All eyes locked on him; he surveyed the gathered throng of humanity, and for some reason, locked onto the striking, forlorn-looking redhead sitting by the window, with the small tow-headed child on her lap sobbing her eyes out.

He crossed to them, paused, and something told him to address the small person. He dropped to his knees, and said: "You must be Sonia."

The look of innocence caught at his heart, and he thought 'He is one lucky guy.'

"Your Daddy is gonna be fine." The room erupted into tears, cheers, and laughter. He looked up to the redhead's face, and said: "He will be sore for a while, but he should be just great in a couple of weeks."

She exploded in tears and laughter, and threw her arms around his neck, saying "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you."

"He is being moved into recovery, and he is going to be out of it for a while. I suggest you all get something to eat, and a little sleep, and come back about 9:00 tomorrow morning."

There was much sniffing, and smiling, as everyone filed out. Terry came up to the surgeon and asked if they had the slugs. He said his nurse had them in an evidence bag and had someone bring them out. He handed them to Terry and said he would be available if the police needed anything. He then said he needed to check on his patients.

The next day, Jillian and Sonia were at the hospital bright and early. They went up to the recovery wing and asked for James Tremaine's room. The closer they got to the room, the quicker Jillian was moving, until she was almost running to the door of room 706. She almost collided with a nurse coming out of his room, and they grabbed each other to keep from falling. This did not stop Sonia, being short, and she scooted into Jame's room.

"DADDY!!" she squealed. James stirred, and his eyes popped open.

He smiled, and croaked, "Mornin, short stuff." She jumped up on the bed just as her mother raced into the room.

"OHH, James" she cried, and rushed to him, enfolding him in her arms. Her tears proceeded to soak his hospital gown. He winced and hugged her back. Kisses streamed back and forth. Then she disentangled herself and started to beat his shoulder. "DON'T YOU EVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT AGAIN!!" He grinned, and grabbed his shoulder, and said "Ouch! That hurt. Sonia, mommy is beating me."

"Good, now it's my turn!" said the munchkin, and little fists started flailing at him. "You made mommy cry, and you made me cry. You need to be more careful."

He started to tear up, started to grin, and he said "I'm sorry, but I couldn't let anyone hurt my girls."

Then the two females started crying all over again, and fell all over him, again.

" O.K., mommy he deserved to be hollered at, but we are finished now, right??"

"Yes, baby," she sniffed. "We are done being mad at daddy."

"That's a relief; I was beginning to think I'd rather be shot all over again. ...I love you two, too, you know."

They laughed and cried some more.

Next came Art and Consuelo, and we started all over again. Consuelo was crying, kissing me, and hugging me.

"Thank you for saving my girls," she said. "But don't you ever do something like that again. I thought all you Texans carried guns," as she hit me in the arm.

Art looked at me and smiled. "Some people will do anything to get out of work. ...Proud of you, son" he said.

Next, it was my doctor's turn to enter.

"Well, I can tell who is the most popular patient here. How are you doing today, James?"

"A little sore, doc."

"Can't imagine why" he quipped, studying my chart. "Any particular pains, or discomforts??"

"Nothing I can't live with, doc. And thank you, for everything."

He pulled his stethoscope out and pulled my gown over. He listened here, and he listened there. Then he checked my back, saying breathe normally. Then he checked the stitches and the area around the wound.

"No problem, James." He turned to my family and said "When we were putting him under anesthesia, he was mumbling something about 'I'm sorry, Sonia.' When I came out to the waiting room, I zeroed in on you two" motioning to Jillian and Sonia, "and I figured you were the most important people in his life. As I approached, a little voice told me 'the child.' That's why I talked to her first. If it had been bad news, I would not have done that."

He surveyed James and said "Well, everything looks good, so I'll let you get back to giving him a hard time. But please, don't tire him out."