I thrrow a shovel into the back of my dad’s car, and park outside my house. I look up and down the street, searching for a tail, then drive off in the direction of the cemetery, taking random lefts and rights to make sure no one is following. I need to get Alderman out of the ground before the others go digging for his wife.
At the cemetery everything looks different, as though I’m still in the dream. The night is about as dark and wet as it can get in this city. There is an occasional sliver of pale light that breaks through and reflects off the windscreen. It is completely still out here, and cold. I suspect if I tried digging deep into the ground to remove Sidney Alderman, it’d be like digging through quicksand.
I park out on the street two blocks away and walk back to the
cemetery. Naked branches that look like skeletal remains reach out overhead and lock fingers above me as I enter the grounds. I slow down and stay hidden in the shadows of several oak trees along the sides of the road in case there are any police around. There doesn’t seem to be anybody, but I go further into the grounds before going back for the shovel, knowing I could only offer bad answers to questions about why I was carrying one.
Satisfied I’m alone, at least in the cemetery, I start to make my
way to the church. I stay in the trees, getting close enough finally to see a patrol car parked outside with a sole officer inside. He’s probably got the heater running to stay warm, and got a thermos of coffee as well. It’s standard protocol to protect a crime scene this early on. I bet he’s as bored as hell. I stay in the same position, low to the ground, the cold making my knees and fingers hurt, and I spend ten minutes just watching. The rain beats on my jacket loudly, but not as loudly as it beats against the car. Occasionally a light comes on in the car from what I think might be a cellphone opening and closing. The guy’s probably sending text messages to his wife or girlfriend, or both. Probably complaining about what a waste of time it is out here.
I need to return to the car, grab the shovel and dig Alderman
up. But now that I’m this close to the church, suddenly I have another, even stronger need — I have to know what’s inside. I need to know if there are answers in there. And anyway, Alderman won’t mind waiting another half an hour for the feel of the shovel.
I pass behind the trees and some graves, and circumnavigate
my way to the back of the church. I hide for another five minutes, just watching and waiting to see if there is anybody else around.
There isn’t. The rain stays heavy and I’m pretty sure it’s the reason the cop keeping an eye on the church is staying in his car and not patrolling around the perimeter every few minutes like he’s been instructed to do.
The church is darker and colder-looking than normal, as
though God has moved out and some malevolent presence has
moved in. There are no lights on inside. The man who devoted
his life to this place is lying on a slab in the morgue, maybe with his God, maybe alone.
I quickly make my way to the side door and I pause, waiting
for either Schroder or Landry to step out of the darkness, or
even Casey Horwell with her cameraman. Nobody does. There
is police tape hanging in the lifeless air between poles that have been weighted on the ground. Police tape has been sealed along the framework. I try to pull it away without damaging it.
Among the keys that Schroder brought back to me is the one
Bruce Alderman left me. I look at the key and I look at the lock, and even though they don’t look like they’re going to match up, I still try jamming them together. It’s useless. It could be for one of the other doors. I pull a lock-pick set from my pocket, hold a Maglite in my mouth, and go about working at the lock, nervous that the guy parked out front is going to pick this exact moment to come looking around. It turns out to be a simple enough pin-and-tumbler mechanism made more complicated than it ought
to be by the cold and my nerves. It takes me almost ten minutes to make my way inside. The air is cold, the black void ahead of me unwelcoming, and when I close the door behind me all I have is my Maglite to keep whatever demons are in here at bay Before taking a step, I remove my jacket and shoes to avoid
contaminating the scene with mud and water. I’ve entered the