it is in the movies. You will remain in custody until we decide if or when to charge you. And at the moment, that's looking more like a when than an if.”
“What happened to Todd? What killed him?”
He took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. “We believe Mr Patton was poisoned.”
“Poisoned? With what?”
“Hemlock.”
28
Harris grunted as he grabbed the pew in front of him, and pulled himself up from his knees. He rubbed blood back into his aching legs. He looked up at the carving above the altar. It looked back at him with disdain. A God warped and twisted to serve man's purpose.
There were no answers forthcoming from the half-closed wooden eyes. Harris had grown bitter and cynical over the years. All he saw was corruption, false piety, and most of it was his own. He couldn't find anything to believe in anymore.
He heard footsteps behind him, and turned around. He hurried down the aisle, and took Lacey into his arms. He eased her down onto a pew, letting her lean her weight against him.
“What happened?” Harris asked.
Lacey swallowed, her tongue sweeping over her swollen lips. “He tried to get rid of the baby his own way.”
Harris held Lacey to his chest. “We'll get you sorted out. I won't let you go back to him again.” At least he could save one girl.
He helped Lacey to her feet, and held onto her as she hobbled up to the chancel. They walked through the sacristy, and into the corridor beyond. Harris opened his bedroom door and helped Lacey onto the bed.
“Is anything broken?” Harris asked.
“Maybe a few ribs, I don't know.”
“I'll get Father Benson to see you. But first, I'll get you something to eat. Just wait here, and rest. We'll figure everything out.”
It had not been a comfortable night on the floor. Harris had borrowed extra blankets, but his joints complained as he sat up. Lacey was still asleep in his bed, her breathing heavy and regular. He watched her sleep, and knew he had to find some way to get her out of Falside.
But that wouldn't be an easy task. The entrances to the city were heavily guarded, and delivery vans were searched on both entry and exit. They wouldn't let any women leave, even if they were just slum hookers. Many women had been shot while trying to escape, and those who succeeded were on their own against the roaming gangs that would relish the opportunity to enslave them.
But there were also stories of refuges, safe houses, whole communities of women living freely. There were stories of cities where women were equal to men, where birth rates were steady, cities that weren't governed with such a heavy hand. Was the possibility worth the risk?
Harris sighed. If he could find a way out, if he could have assurances, maybe he could get Maeve out too.
There was a woman who might know. But Harris had never even seen her face. He'd spoken to her several times in the confessional, and he'd watched her walk away. Although with her long, red hair, she shouldn't be too hard to find. It was just a question of where to look.
Harris dressed quietly, and bent to gently kiss Lacey's forehead. She was warm, and stirred, emitting a gentle moan. He hoped she had found some peace in her dreams.
Harris found Brother Grant in the library, his usual stack of books surrounding him.
“Still looking for answers?” Harris asked.
“It gives me a purpose, which is more than you have,” Grant replied without looking up.
Harris sat down. “I'm sorry. I know things have been awkward between us since—” He cleared his throat. “I want to put things right, pay it back. But I need you to help me.”
Grant placed his pen on the table and turned to Harris. “Haven't I helped you enough?”
“There's a woman in my room. I want to help her, but I need to go and find someone who might be able to get her out of the city. Her name's Lacey, and she's very dear to me. While I'm gone, I need you to look after her. Bring her food, water, anything she wants. Talk to her.
“What happened to Todd? What killed him?”
He took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. “We believe Mr Patton was poisoned.”
“Poisoned? With what?”
“Hemlock.”
28
Harris grunted as he grabbed the pew in front of him, and pulled himself up from his knees. He rubbed blood back into his aching legs. He looked up at the carving above the altar. It looked back at him with disdain. A God warped and twisted to serve man's purpose.
There were no answers forthcoming from the half-closed wooden eyes. Harris had grown bitter and cynical over the years. All he saw was corruption, false piety, and most of it was his own. He couldn't find anything to believe in anymore.
He heard footsteps behind him, and turned around. He hurried down the aisle, and took Lacey into his arms. He eased her down onto a pew, letting her lean her weight against him.
“What happened?” Harris asked.
Lacey swallowed, her tongue sweeping over her swollen lips. “He tried to get rid of the baby his own way.”
Harris held Lacey to his chest. “We'll get you sorted out. I won't let you go back to him again.” At least he could save one girl.
He helped Lacey to her feet, and held onto her as she hobbled up to the chancel. They walked through the sacristy, and into the corridor beyond. Harris opened his bedroom door and helped Lacey onto the bed.
“Is anything broken?” Harris asked.
“Maybe a few ribs, I don't know.”
“I'll get Father Benson to see you. But first, I'll get you something to eat. Just wait here, and rest. We'll figure everything out.”
It had not been a comfortable night on the floor. Harris had borrowed extra blankets, but his joints complained as he sat up. Lacey was still asleep in his bed, her breathing heavy and regular. He watched her sleep, and knew he had to find some way to get her out of Falside.
But that wouldn't be an easy task. The entrances to the city were heavily guarded, and delivery vans were searched on both entry and exit. They wouldn't let any women leave, even if they were just slum hookers. Many women had been shot while trying to escape, and those who succeeded were on their own against the roaming gangs that would relish the opportunity to enslave them.
But there were also stories of refuges, safe houses, whole communities of women living freely. There were stories of cities where women were equal to men, where birth rates were steady, cities that weren't governed with such a heavy hand. Was the possibility worth the risk?
Harris sighed. If he could find a way out, if he could have assurances, maybe he could get Maeve out too.
There was a woman who might know. But Harris had never even seen her face. He'd spoken to her several times in the confessional, and he'd watched her walk away. Although with her long, red hair, she shouldn't be too hard to find. It was just a question of where to look.
Harris dressed quietly, and bent to gently kiss Lacey's forehead. She was warm, and stirred, emitting a gentle moan. He hoped she had found some peace in her dreams.
Harris found Brother Grant in the library, his usual stack of books surrounding him.
“Still looking for answers?” Harris asked.
“It gives me a purpose, which is more than you have,” Grant replied without looking up.
Harris sat down. “I'm sorry. I know things have been awkward between us since—” He cleared his throat. “I want to put things right, pay it back. But I need you to help me.”
Grant placed his pen on the table and turned to Harris. “Haven't I helped you enough?”
“There's a woman in my room. I want to help her, but I need to go and find someone who might be able to get her out of the city. Her name's Lacey, and she's very dear to me. While I'm gone, I need you to look after her. Bring her food, water, anything she wants. Talk to her.
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