fiction
Diary of a Sociopathic Vicar – Part 46
This is probably not the phone call that most people want just before dinner. For some reason, it seems to put them off their food, I’m not sure why. Naturally, it did not affect my appetite. It is true that this was the first time I had received such a message - the life of a vicar being what it is in the Church of England, mortal danger is seldom a problem. The main dangers tend to be drinking too much tea, eating too many biscuits, and church council meetings.
“Good evening Martin,” I said. “That’s a slightly unusual statement.”
I kept my voice calm and even. This is expected of a priest under even the most trying of circumstances. It also makes it easier to control the situation.
“David, I need to warn you about Graham. Graham Walters.”
“The Diocesan Finance Office chap?”
“Yes, that’s him. I think he may no longer be sound.”
“Really? That’s quite a serious charge to level at someone. Perhaps you should tell me more.”
Naturally, I was familiar with the Rev. Graham Walters, another of the cult members. I had them both given faked documents – documents that were very similar, but with just enough differences to encourage discussion. Regrettably, the discussion resulted in the current profusion of corpses - but I am absolved by the fact that only God is infallible.
Martin was silent for a moment, then said, “I think I will have to take you into my confidence.”
He paused, so I said, “I’m listening.”
“Within this Diocese, there is a society which considers some of the ancient writings which were brought back from the Crusades by the Knights Templar. The book that you recently gave to me was one such treasure. We call ourselves the Sons of Jesus Lemurian.”
Of course, I knew this already. Let us ignore for the moment the problem that the Templars did not visit the Holy Land to frequent the second-hand bookshops. The book that I had given to Martin – like the one I had given to Graham – had been written by myself and produced by a forger I know. I am sure that the other writings this group valued were equally authentic.
“And is Graham a member of your group of scholars?” I prompted.
“Yes. Yes, and he has been developing some strange ideas. The other night a fight erupted, and he went wild, attacking other members with a church warden’s stave. Four were left dead at the end of his rampage. Two of his supporters and two of mine.”
“Tragic.”
“Yes, well, I had to dispose of the bodies. I took my supporters and placed them in a car at the top of the hill to Sending. I pushed it down the hill and the police thought it a mere accident.”
Here, Martin revealed himself for what he was. Any legitimate person would have called the police, rather than hiding the deaths. Still, rather than confront him on the issue, I said, “How terrible. What happened to the other bodies?”
“I know not. I can only assume that Graham took them away for some nefarious purpose.”
It happened I knew the destiny of the other two corpses, as I had helped arrange their disposal. There’s an allotment holder – also called Martin - who was going to be using them to fertilise his leeks. He’s won a number of awards, I’m told.
“Do you think that Graham wishes me harm?”
“It seems likely. You provided me with the Gospel of Jesus Lemurian and shown yourself wise in these matters. You are a logical target.”
“Thank you for the warning. I’ll bear it in mind.”
“He has even changed the name of the society for those who adhere to his beliefs. He now calls them the True Sons of Jesus Lemurian.”
“Such heresy,” I commiserated.
“Indeed. It is down to the likes of you and I to keep the faith pure.”
I did not correct his grammar, but instead, let him hang up. I shrugged and sat down to eat.
At that Sunday’s service, I announced a church council meeting for later in the week. It was a special service in that I had given Psycho a Bible reading to do. Psycho is a Hells Angel and has a string of convictions for assault. I met him and his colleagues Al and Porker when they asked me to take the funeral of one their friends. Since then, they have been attending church, and Al has taken over playing the piano for the hymns while Porker undertakes any forging that I may require. Recently, Psycho had approached me about becoming a lay reader – that is, someone licensed by the bishop to take services and preach, without a priest looking over his shoulder. As he was starting out from nothing, getting him to do a Bible reading seemed like a good option.
We had the opening prayers and the first hymn. Prayers of confession were next, followed by another hymn. With Al playing, I was happy to squeeze in an extra hymn, and the congregation didn’t mind. Then it was Psycho’s big moment.
“And now for our first reading, which today will be read by Psycho,” I said, and gave him the nod.
Typically, in a service you have two readings. The second reading is always from the Gospels, and first is from anywhere else in the Bible. The second reading is the important one. It sets the theme for the service, and – importantly – the congregation is expected to stand while it is read. It follows from this that normally the congregation dozes through the first Bible reading.
Not today.
Everyone’s eyes were on Psycho as he walked stiffly up to the lectern.
He turned to face the congregation and cast his eyes across them. Several flinched.
I have never heard the words, “The Old Testament reading is taken from the book of Isaiah” said with such menace. It was one of those blood and thunder type passages, and the way Psycho read it would have had the enemies of the Israelites quaking in their boots.
“This is the Word of the Lord,” he said, and slammed his Bible shut.
There was a shell-shocked “Amen” from the congregation as he stalked back to his seat. When he sat down, Porker slapped him on the back, and he grinned.
I only wish that more people would put that energy into readings. I gave him a nod and the service proceeded.
Afterwards, while Al was playing “Rhapsody in Blue” by Gershwin, I went over to talk to Psycho. There was a bit of a queue, with people lining up to congratulate him.
“Well done, Psycho,” I said. “How did you find it?”
He shrugged. “I just pretended that someone had knocked over my beer, like you said. It wasn’t a problem after that.”
Al finished playing and came over.
“Good one, bro,” he said to Psycho, punching his shoulder. “Oh, David, I hope you don’t mind me playing a secular piece at the end there.”
“No problem. Technically the service is over once I’ve given the dismissal, so as long as what you’re playing is appropriate, that’s fine.”
I circulated the congregation after that, checking on people’s aches and pains. They were all full of praise for Psycho now - “Didn’t he do well?” – but on Tuesday it was the church council meeting. There I was going to put him forward for lay readership and the church council had to approve him.
I knew then they would take a different view of him.
Disclaimer: Rev. David Wilson is as inaccurate as ever of his portrayal of the Bible readings in a service. Both are of equal importance, even though one is referred to as the “controlling” reading, and people aren’t expected to stand for the first reading.
A map of Sutley may be found here:
https://kevinwoodauthor.com/SutleyMap.htm