Read Online And Blue Skies From Pain by Stina Leicht - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stina Leicht
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happened after Waterford.”
Father Murray swallowed. That was a mess. Three dead when it was finally done. One in mental hospital. Two weeks of suspension. He’d very nearly been suspended permanently. But I was proved right, was I not? He wasn’t always right. No one was, but he liked to think himself wise enough to concede when it became clear otherwise. Except when it came to Mary Kate, is that not so? How wrong were you then? “I’ll be careful,” Father Murray said.
“I’m serious this time, Joseph. The slightest mistake could land you in a containment room. Possibly to the end of your days. Do you understand?”
“I do.” The headache decided to quit lurking and get serious.
“Bishop Avery is taking a big risk. We all are.”
Not as big as I am, apparently. Father Murray said, “I can only do my best.”
“The Bishop has faith in you, Joseph. Keep that in mind. No matter what happens. He believes in this investigation. But there are other considerations. Considerations you’re unaware of.”
“What considerations?” Father Murray felt his stomach tighten in a cold knot.
Father Thomas paused before stepping out of the elevator. “Considerations.”
“Shouldn’t I know what’s going on?”
“Not now.” Father Thomas shot a meaningful glance up at the camera mounted near the ceiling.
Father Murray nodded.
This wasn’t his first visit to the Belfast facility—more like the hundredth, but it was the first time he’d entered it since he’d resigned from the Order of Milites Dei. Nothing seemed to have changed over the past month. The hallway was identical to the one on the underground floor—sterile white walls, grey steel doors and matching flecked-grey tile. Black numbers were etched on the three-by-five-inch steel plates bolted to each door at eye height. The second floor, the one they were currently on, consisted primarily of security, administrative offices, a few apartments reserved for important guests and record storage. The labs, infirmary, kitchen, chapel, medical staff, supplies and two morgues were located on the floors above. The observation room and two examination rooms existed underneath the building. A third set of cellar rooms existed, he knew. They were located on the eastern side of the building, but he’d never been unlucky enough to visit them.
There’s still time, Joseph.
He kept his voice low to prevent it from echoing. “Has something changed since yesterday?”
Father Thomas whispered, “Later.” He opened the door to Bishop Avery’s office and ushered him in.
Entering the dark-paneled room, Father Murray steeled himself against mounting trepidation. The faint aroma of frankincense, normally comforting, didn’t help. Three hours into the peace agreement, he already didn’t like where things were headed. He’d known the situation would be challenging, given Liam’s authority issues and the overall sentiment within the Order toward the Fey, but he hadn’t thought it would metastasize this quickly. He prepared for another fight and scanned the photos of the Order’s heroic casualties—their simple black frames hung in precise rows like tombstones. A thick brown curtain was drawn over the windows to the left.
“Hello, Joseph. Have a seat,” Bishop Avery said, looking up from his paperwork. “Declan, would you mind bringing in some tea?”
“Not at all, Your Grace,” Father Thomas said.
“Two cups, please? That is, if Joseph will be joining me?”
“Yes. Thank you, Your Grace,” Father Murray said.
“Thank you, Declan. That will be all for now.”
Father Thomas nodded and shut the door.
“I understand you’ve settled into your rooms. Is everything in order?” Bishop Avery asked.
“With respect, Your Grace, it would be best if I could take Liam to and from appointments without restraints or an armed escort.”
Bishop Avery put down his pen. “Request denied.”
“Damn it, we must show good faith or the peace process is
Father Murray swallowed. That was a mess. Three dead when it was finally done. One in mental hospital. Two weeks of suspension. He’d very nearly been suspended permanently. But I was proved right, was I not? He wasn’t always right. No one was, but he liked to think himself wise enough to concede when it became clear otherwise. Except when it came to Mary Kate, is that not so? How wrong were you then? “I’ll be careful,” Father Murray said.
“I’m serious this time, Joseph. The slightest mistake could land you in a containment room. Possibly to the end of your days. Do you understand?”
“I do.” The headache decided to quit lurking and get serious.
“Bishop Avery is taking a big risk. We all are.”
Not as big as I am, apparently. Father Murray said, “I can only do my best.”
“The Bishop has faith in you, Joseph. Keep that in mind. No matter what happens. He believes in this investigation. But there are other considerations. Considerations you’re unaware of.”
“What considerations?” Father Murray felt his stomach tighten in a cold knot.
Father Thomas paused before stepping out of the elevator. “Considerations.”
“Shouldn’t I know what’s going on?”
“Not now.” Father Thomas shot a meaningful glance up at the camera mounted near the ceiling.
Father Murray nodded.
This wasn’t his first visit to the Belfast facility—more like the hundredth, but it was the first time he’d entered it since he’d resigned from the Order of Milites Dei. Nothing seemed to have changed over the past month. The hallway was identical to the one on the underground floor—sterile white walls, grey steel doors and matching flecked-grey tile. Black numbers were etched on the three-by-five-inch steel plates bolted to each door at eye height. The second floor, the one they were currently on, consisted primarily of security, administrative offices, a few apartments reserved for important guests and record storage. The labs, infirmary, kitchen, chapel, medical staff, supplies and two morgues were located on the floors above. The observation room and two examination rooms existed underneath the building. A third set of cellar rooms existed, he knew. They were located on the eastern side of the building, but he’d never been unlucky enough to visit them.
There’s still time, Joseph.
He kept his voice low to prevent it from echoing. “Has something changed since yesterday?”
Father Thomas whispered, “Later.” He opened the door to Bishop Avery’s office and ushered him in.
Entering the dark-paneled room, Father Murray steeled himself against mounting trepidation. The faint aroma of frankincense, normally comforting, didn’t help. Three hours into the peace agreement, he already didn’t like where things were headed. He’d known the situation would be challenging, given Liam’s authority issues and the overall sentiment within the Order toward the Fey, but he hadn’t thought it would metastasize this quickly. He prepared for another fight and scanned the photos of the Order’s heroic casualties—their simple black frames hung in precise rows like tombstones. A thick brown curtain was drawn over the windows to the left.
“Hello, Joseph. Have a seat,” Bishop Avery said, looking up from his paperwork. “Declan, would you mind bringing in some tea?”
“Not at all, Your Grace,” Father Thomas said.
“Two cups, please? That is, if Joseph will be joining me?”
“Yes. Thank you, Your Grace,” Father Murray said.
“Thank you, Declan. That will be all for now.”
Father Thomas nodded and shut the door.
“I understand you’ve settled into your rooms. Is everything in order?” Bishop Avery asked.
“With respect, Your Grace, it would be best if I could take Liam to and from appointments without restraints or an armed escort.”
Bishop Avery put down his pen. “Request denied.”
“Damn it, we must show good faith or the peace process is
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