Read Online The Case Against Satan by Ray Russell - Free Book Online

door was sheer improvisation, of course; he wasn’t sure—it had been a long time since he had set foot inside this rectory—but he believed it led to the dining room. The rectory was not physically connected to the church at all. Rectories seldom are. But so blinding had been the girl’s terror that she had completely forgotten that.
    He walked over to her, lifted her from the floor, led her to a chair. “Please sit down, my poor child,” he said gently. He sat down opposite her. “Now then. All those things were true, you said; all those awful things. But you are not a bad girl, are you? Not really.”
    â€œI am. I am.”
    â€œHow can that be, dear? You are very disturbed by these things, very sorry. A bad person would not be sorry.”
    She said nothing. She had not stopped trembling.
    â€œMy dear,” he asked, “why do you do these things?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œCan you—describe, can you tell me what it feels like when these things happen, when you do and say these terrible things?”
    She tried. “It’s—like it isn’t me at all. Like it’s someone else, taking over.”
    A ventriloquist’s dummy
. Wasn’t that the term Gregory had used?
    The Bishop patted her hand, and sat back in his chair. Suddenly, brightly, he said, “How would you like to play a little game?”
    â€œA game?”
    â€œWith me.”
    â€œAll right . . .”
    â€œGood.” He reached into his trousers pocket. “We will take a quarter . . . and a half dollar . . .” He selected these coins and put the rest back in his pocket. “You see?”
    She nodded. Her eyes were red, but the tears had stopped.
    â€œNow you must close your eyes,” he said, “and I will touch your arm with one or the other of these two coins several times and you must tell me which coin it is, the quarter or the half dollar. All right?”
    She nodded, and almost smiled.
    â€œFine. Now close your eyes.” She did. The Bishop placed the quarter flat against her bare arm.
    â€œI think . . .” she said, uncertainly, “. . . is it the half dollar?”
    â€œI mustn’t tell you until it’s all over. That’s part of the game.” He touched her arm again, this time with the half dollar.
    â€œI don’t know,” she said. “The quarter? But it could be the half dollar again.”
    Now the Bishop abandoned the quarter entirely. He pressed only the half dollar to her arm, several times. She said: “The half dollar . . . The quarter? . . . The quarter again, I think . . . The half dollar . . .”
    While the girl went on guessing, the Bishop’s free hand was carefully, silently searching for something in another pocket.
    â€œThe quarter . . . I’ll say the half dollar . . . Still the half dollar . . . The quarter? . . .”
    Again and again he placed the coin on her arm. “The half dollar . . . The quarter . . . The quarter . . .”
    And then she yanked away her arm and yelped in pain.
“You burned me!”
she screamed, opening her eyes. “You burned me with something! What was it?” She moaned in agony and shattered trust, one hand clapped tightly over the hurt spot. The Bishop pried her hand away and looked—with fear and sadness but no surprise—at the burn, which had begun to glow a vicious pink.
    It was precisely the size and shape of the crucifix dangling from his rosary.

VI
THE PRIEST’S WIFE HAS A BROKEN BACK
    The breviary dropped from Gregory’s hands when he heard the scream of pain. He shot from his chair and ran from the parlor, quickly unlocked the study door and threw it open.
    â€œWhat happened?”
    â€œSusan’s been hurt,” the Bishop said hoarsely. “Perhaps your