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.He said, “I doubt you can publish it, but what it said was ‘FUCK U ALL’, with the middle word just being the single letter U.As to the meaning of the messages, we have no leads at all at this time.”A younger man in a suit stood up and asked, “Have you any persons of interest in this case?”Clint said, “No, not at this time.” He paused a moment, and then he continued, “Unless you want to count whichever of you bastards did the low-level helicopter flyover of our crime scene today, in the process of which you damn near suffocated the entire Macone County Sheriff’s Department and potentially erased evidence from the crime scene.Whoever did that was lucky I left my antiaircraft missiles in my other pants this morning.”The reporters in the room smiled, except for one group of four in the corner who seemed to be avoiding the sheriff’s gaze.Clint said, “That’s it for now, but in conclusion, let me tell you that you can bet your variable-rate subprime mortgages that whoever did this is going to get caught and prosecuted.We can meet again here tomorrow afternoon at three thirty for an update.” He stepped away from the podium and went over to Ed.Ed smiled at him and said, “That was well done.”Clint scowled a bit in self-deprecation and said, “It had to be done.Let’s go over to the Dairy Prince before I fall down from lack of nutrition.They are not as good as Kajun Blue’s, but I try not to play favorites.”As they sat in the cool booth adjacent to the order counter awaiting their hamburgers, Ed’s phone rang.He answered it, said, “Hello,” listened for a while, and then he said, “That’s good,” and “goodbye.”Ed turned back to Clint and said, “Our forensic psychiatrist will be on the 10:05 flight into San Angelo tomorrow morning.His name is Dr.Newton Guddington.My captain says he is overenthusiastic but has done okay on some other cases.”Clint said, “I don’t care if he has fur on his face and howls at the moon, as long as he can make something out of this case.” He started to say something else, but was interrupted by the arrival of the hamburgers.After their meal, they returned to the sheriff’s station and communicated with all the active units.Diego reported that he had found little in the search of the Kallim trailer, except a bundle of letters written in a language he didn’t know, and some writing in the front of a Bible near the telephone, along with numbers beside them.Deputy Joe reported even less from the second crime scene, other than reams of hand-written sermons and bible-study notes, along with some mildly suggestive e-mails from a young woman to the teenager on the computer.Clint encouraged them to continue, and then went to the dispatcher’s station to communicate with the troopers.Their patrols had not uncovered anything, and the roadblock was reporting little traffic and no results so far.Clint, feeling somewhat less weary after the meal, said, “I guess I should start writing some reports, although right at this moment I would rather take a whipping.”Ed said, “No, it’s twenty minutes to seven.Where is the Lutheran church?”Clint shook his head to clear it and said, “You’re right—it’s just down the street, behind the grocery.” He turned to the trooper sitting next to him.“If you need to leave for any reason, this switch here”—he indicated a black knob on a device—“ports the 911 calls to the radio of the deputy on patrol.”Clint went down to his office to get a spare evidence bag, and then Ed drove them to the Lutheran meeting hall.As they entered the hall, Clint saw seven men standing around a table that supported a coffeepot and a plate of cookies.Pastor Bill came over to him and whispered nervously, “I haven’t told anyone yet.We’re waiting on Brother John and Uriah.” Brother John Cummings was the Presbyterian leader, and Uriah Tinker was the spiritual head of the local Church of God in Christ organization.Clint said, “Okay, who’s in charge?”“We only have a president, which was Jim, and a secretary, me, so I guess it’s me.”The ecumenical council of Bencher’s Crossing was originally formed to oversee the distribution of funds from the Maria Greengrass Fund for Church Charity, but it had also evolved into a discussion group involving the spiritual welfare of the community, and had proven useful in more pragmatic tasks, such as coordinating events and intergroup counseling.They had dutifully supplied Clint with the minutes of their meetings, knowing full well which side of the bread possessed the allocation of butter.As Clint scanned the group, two more men entered the hall.Brother John was, frankly, obese, with a cherub’s face and considerable charisma, and Uriah Tinker was extremely slender and well-known for his emotional sermons.Brother John made a beeline for the cookies.Father Sebastian approached Clint and held out two pages of paper, saying, “I don’t know how helpful this is.We don’t require a lot of information from day help, but here it is.” Clint thanked him, unrolled the evidence bag, and put the papers inside it.Pastor Bill raised his voice slightly and addressed the group.“Let’s sit down.Clint has things to say to us.”On one end of the hall were rows of folding chairs, and the men distributed themselves throughout the front row.Clint went to the front and waited until everyone was settled.Clint addressed the group, saying, “I have bad news.” He then outlined the events of the past two days, omitting only any mention of the envelope and its message.“So I cannot ignore that Mrs.Khallem worked for three of the churches here,” he concluded, “and of course Brother Jim was a church leader.This group probably knew them both better than anyone, and therefore I have to ask you to examine what you know.Has anyone shown fanatical leanings, or have you heard of any Jesus cults or anything like that recently? Can you tell me anything else about the victims, anything they might have told you?”The group had received the news with varying reactions of shock and dismay.Reverend Uriah Tinker was openly weeping, and tears were evident on several other faces.Father Sebastian cleared his throat and, in a timid voice, said, “Well, there was that trouble with the Pentecostals last month.Brother Jim got involved with the mediations.”“That’s not fair!” said the Reverend Martin Jones of the United Pentecostal Church.“We did everything that Jim asked.”Clint was aware of the situation they referred to.About a month ago, the Pentecostal church had began a week-long tent revival in the city park, and one of the neighbors of the park, the widow Bea Carruthers, had complained about the noise to the city policeman, who, with uncharacteristic sympathy, had appealed to several religious leaders for help.Brother Jim had suggested that if the tent was moved to the other end of the park, the situation might be resolved, and with minor grumbling, this was effected and no more had been said.At the time, Clint had regarded it all as a tempest occurring in the confines of a vessel used in preparation of tea, with all involved having too much spare time and overly sensitive feelings, but he did not say that now.“Okay, anything else? Did any of you have any unusual interactions or communications with the victims?”Pastor Bill stirred in his seat and said, “About six months ago, Mrs [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]