Chapter Sixty-Five

Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.

1 Thessalonians 5:21

Saturday 8th December: "Yes, I guess. You have to confide in someone. But why me?"

"Men find friends where they can. Christ's friends were sinners."

Baxter Merill threw back his head and laughed. "I've got to hand it to you Bish. You sure know how to charm." Baxter took a generous slug of his bourbon on ice. They sat in the den at 185 Longhill. Both men were relaxed. "So you play Christ and I play the sinner?"

The bishop raised an eyebrow. "Is that what I implied? Could be vice-versa of course."

"Somehow I doubt that. Haven't you guys got confessors for this sort of thing?"

"My confessor is Father Sebastian."

Baxter laughed again. This time if anything louder. "The priest that's screwing my Angie?"

The bishop smiled in turn. "The priest that had a relationship with your wife. To the best of my knowledge he doesn't any longer."

"Really?" Baxter Merill sat up in his chair. "Poor Angie. She sure can pick 'em."

"Huh?"

"Well first me, then a priest. And we both treat her bad."

"Did you? Treat her bad I mean."

"Used to knock her about. Does that offend you Bishop?"

"Nothing offends me."

Baxter raised an incredulous eyebrow but didn't pursue it. Instead he asked, "Want to know why I used to knock her about?"

"Why?"

"She was too bloody perfect. Too long suffering. No real fight in her."

"And Vicky?"

"Vicky's carrying my child. Angie and I never had children."

"That makes a difference?"

"Maybe." Baxter hesitated. "No, I don't s'pose it does."

The Bishop smiled his concern. "Perhaps you should have counselling."

Baxter shrugged. "Perhaps. But we're not here to talk about me are we?"

"No."

"So?"

"So. The lawyer in the Trish Hartnett case has notified me that he'll call me as a witness for the defense."

"That's neat. I always wanted to go on the witness stand," he mused. Then more seriously, "She's got that prick, David Fieldson, as her lawyer." He took another generous slug of bourbon. "I don't like the man."

"I have considered suicide," said the Bishop.

"That bad eh?"

The bishop nodded. "Not that I contemplate suicide as an option for my own benefit. Not for myself you understand. But it would save others embarrassment. The church. My friends."

"And what of your immortal soul?"

The bishop smiled. "I've lost that already."

"Well," reflected Baxter with a twinkle in his eye. "It would be kind of neat. This thing began with a suicide. It could end the same way."

"So you subscribe to the idea that all these killings are linked to Mary Young's death?"

"Seems a reasonable hypothesis, don't you think?"

"Perhaps. You haven't asked what my problem is."

"Don't want to pry, Bishop. You'll tell me if you wish to."

"It's Patrick, and yes I'll tell you."

"Go on."

Bishop O'Malley gazed at the floor, nursing his drink as he spoke. "Sean Hartnett was my lover."

"You're gay?"

The bishop smiled. "Evidently."

Baxter was unfazed. "You got aids then?"

"You don't understand?" The bishop raised an eyebrow. "All this stuff about Sean will come out in open court."

Baxter wasn't that easily deflected. He went on like a dog with a bone. "You got aids then?"

"I don't know. Does that matter?"

It was Baxter's turn to raise an eyebrow. "It matters. Get it checked out."

"What about being exposed in the courtroom?"

"Exposed? That's an insubstantial here today, gone tomorrow thing. What if you exposed me to the world as a wife beater? It'd be a storm I could weather with gravitas and endurance, plus display a smidgen of repentance. These are mere phantoms. Now talk to me of aids or bankruptcy and you mention real demons." Baxter stirred his drink with his finger in an absentminded way. Then setting it aside he looked at the bishop with his soulful, languid brown eyes. "The substantial - that frightens me," he said. "Not mere title-tattle and gossip. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words . . ."

And the Bishop looked again at his new friend. "You genuinely believe that?"

"Sure I do. Take the fifth. The Martin Luther King option. Remain silent and imitate Christ for once."

"The Luther King option? What's that?"

"They say he screwed around. He would never defend himself though. He gave his life to defend others. Not himself. Never himself. So go figure."

And Bishop Patrick O'Malley felt easier, for the first time in days. "Thank you Baxter," he said. "Really thank you very much."