Chapter Four

“Finn. If you don’t stop that feckin’ whining, I’m going to toss your ass outside and nail the doggy door shut.” Jamie sat at the kitchen table, his headache still raging even after three days of staying at home. Bustling around the kitchen getting ready for the day, Eileen and the girls looked at Jamie and Finn. Yelling at the dog was a definite sign that Jamie still felt bad.

Eileen came up behind Jamie and rubbed his neck. “Now, love, you know he’s just upset. He thinks we’re all leaving like we usually do. I think he has enjoyed having you home the past two days.”

“Yeah, Daddio,” chimed in Riona. “Finn loves his daddy,” she said, making exaggerated hugging and kissing motions. Finn cocked his head.

Riona’s antics, which usually made Jamie laugh, did little more than bring a weak smile to his face. “I know, I know. I’m sure it comes as a big surprise to you all, but I’m not a very good patient.”

Caitlin put her hands to her face with a look of mock horror. “Fue impactante.”

Jamie glared at his middle daughter. “If you’re going to insult me, at least have the decency to do so in English. Gaelic would be better. I understand some of that language, especially the insults.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes, which seemed to be her most frequent expression of impatience and irritation of late. “Daddy, I just said ‘It’s shocking.’ in Spanish. I would never have expected you to get grumpy when you’re sick.” Caitlin huffed and headed upstairs to finish getting ready for school.

Jamie shook his head. “I can’t win.”

“You can’t win?” asked Riona. “Try living with a grumpy old bear sometime, and see how you like it.” Although she laughed when she said it, Jamie could tell that even Riona was exasperated with him.

“They’re just worried about you, love,” added Eileen. “As am I.”

Jamie sighed. “I understand, darlin,’ and I’m a little worried too. That’s why I called Jerry and got an appointment—tomorrow at eleven.”

“Okay, then. I don’t have any lessons until the afternoon either day, so I’m staying home this morning and coming with you tomorrow morning.”

“Peace, woman. I can take myself to the doctor.”

Eileen rolled her eyes. “Of that I have no doubt, Séamus Edward Griffin, but if you think I’m about to leave you to your own devices when you admit to being sick after three days, you’ve got a smart lesson coming to you.” Eileen left the kitchen to finish her own morning preparations.

Jamie stood and grasped the chair when he felt like he was going to fall. The dizziness hadn’t left him, although the vomiting and diarrhea were finished. Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph. All I’ve done for the past two days is feckin’ rest and take naps. This shite has to stop. Jamie staggered to the living room and took up the spot on the sectional where he’d been camping out in the past two days. While it was comfortable, it was beginning to feel like a prison to Jamie. He had never been one to relax.

Once the girls had gone to catch the bus, Eileen came back into the living room. “Well, Mister Grouchy,” Eileen said as she sat beside him, “is there anything I can do for you?”

Jamie looked at his wife, and twenty years of marriage flashed rapid-fire through his mind. “Ah, lass, you know I love you all. It’s just so damned hard for me to be sick.”

“I know, I know, but you have to let us help you get better.”

Jamie took Eileen’s hand and squeezed it, and then they locked their arms together as they sat on the couch. “No matter how much I may complain, I always love having you with me, darling. I just want to be there for all of you.”

“No worries there, my man. You always are.”

They settled in, Eileen reading a book and Jamie starting to doze when his cell phone rang, pealing out the Notre Dame Fight Song. Eileen rolled her eyes. Jamie blew a raspberry as he reached for the phone. “You’re just jealous that no one recognizes ‘For Boston,’ unlike the ‘greatest of all fight songs’.” Eileen, a graduate of Boston College, wrinkled her face in mock disgust.

Jamie looked at the phone and sighed loudly. “Brigid, love. How is everything in ‘God’s Country’?” Eileen made a gagging face.

“It’s good, Daddy. Getting settled in and starting classes.”

“The lads going to win their opener next weekend?”

“Hard to say—it’s been a long time since we’ve been as good as when you were here, Dad, but I’m not calling to talk college football with you.” Eileen and the girls, save Riona, were avid football fans, most of all, college football.

“I know, me Colleen, exactly why you are calling.”

“Well then, why aren’t you listening to Máthair? I’m getting bad reports about your behavior, young man.” When the need arose, Brigid could channel her mother and grandmother quite effectively. Brigid, a junior at ND, was musical like her mother, playing piano and guitar, and athletic like her father. She had competed in swimming in high school and played on the ND women’s club water polo team.

“I’m listening to your mother. I’ve stayed home from work the past two days. I’ve made an appointment with Doctor Jasinski. I’m even taking sick leave for the first time in ten years.”

“Maybe, but I’m getting reports of excessive grumpiness, with a chance of severe irritation.”

“Very cute. Don’t you have class? Maybe you could go mother your boyfriend for a while.”

“Carl is doing just fine, thank you for asking father.” Brigid had been dating a young man from the Midwest, Carl Jorgensen, for the past year and a half. They had met at a dorm party and were dating on a regular basis. Although as juniors, they still focused more on classes than commitment. “Don’t try to change the conversation. Please promise me you’ll take care of yourself?” All of the humor left her voice as she spoke the last words.

“I will, lass. I’ll follow doctor’s orders and more important, your mother’s orders.”

“Go ahead, make fun of me,” said Eileen. “Don’t forget that I have a very long memory, boyo.”

“How could I forget?” Jamie returned to his daughter. “You take care of yourself, your young man, and make sure the football team wins. I’ll take of myself.”

“All right, Daddy. I’m holding you to that. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Jamie hung up and sighed. “She has not been gone two weeks, and I miss her already.”

Eileen chuckled. “I know. So have you sufficiently been browbeaten into submission?”

Jamie held up his hands. “For the last time, yes, woman. Now, would you let me get some of the god-blessed rest you’ve been demanding?”

“Not another word, then,” said Eileen, opening up her book again.

Jamie awoke to the doorbell. He was groggy, and his head felt like it was being pierced with a dull auger. Ah Christ, this is getting old. As he sat up, Eileen got up and opened the door.

“Máthair chéile. Come in, come in,” he heard Eileen say. Jamie’s mother, born in County Cork, insisted on her family using as much Gaelic as possible to preserve their heritage. Now to top it all off, my mother has come to lecture me.

Nuala Griffin was still slender, even at sixty-two. Her red hair, interspersed with gray, fell just past her shoulders. As she entered the living room, she fixed her gray eyes on her son and said, “It’s a good thing I found you on the couch, Séamus Edward Griffin,” her pronounced Irish accent tempered a small amount by having lived most of her adult life in America. She wore a simple print dress, and her only jewelry was her claddagh wedding band and a gold and crystal Celtic cross necklace. “What’s this I’m hearing about you taking ill?”

“Come in, Máthair. Have a seat and join in the parade of female pummeling.”

Nuala, short for Fionnghuala, settled gracefully onto the sectional beside her son, smoothing out her dress and placing one hand upon his brow. “You’ve no fever at least.”

“No, mother, no fever. I’m just fighting the feckin’ flu.”

Nuala poked a finger in Jamie’s face. “You’ll be watchin’ your language around me, young man. I’ll not tolerate such vulgarities.”

Jamie sighed a very loud, Irish sigh.

“Yes, mother. Anything you say, mother.”

“See what I’ve been putting up with?” Eileen asked.

“Aye. After forty-five years with Frank and seven children, I’ve seen it and am all too accustomed to it.” Nuala fixed her sternest maternal gaze on Jamie. “So what are you planning to do to get better, Séamus? Sitting here on the couch won’t be enough to cure what’s ailing you, I’m thinking.”

Jamie sighed again. Ah, at least I’m down to just my first name. If I’m lucky, I’ll get her down to saying Jamie by the time she leaves. “As Eileen knows and I’ve informed all three of my bossy daughters, I have an appointment tomorrow morning with the doctor.”

“Well, I’m sure that what you call ‘bossy’ is just them making sure you do as you’re told. Ah, but then you don’t see Doctor Brennan, do you? It’s that Polish man you prefer for some unbeknownst reason.”

“Yes, Mother. Gerald Jasinski has been my doctor for nearly twenty years. He has seen to the needs of all of us, and I don’t think we’ve turned out too bad.”

“Mayhaps,” admitted Nuala with a loud sniff, “but there’s no reason not to be seeing a good Irish doctor now, is there?”

“I dunno—maybe I don’t want you browbeating information about our health out of poor Doc Brennan,” said Jamie.

“I’d do no such thing.” objected Nuala. “Doctor Brennan and I simply chat about our families and how they are doing. Nothing more.”

“Well, whatever you call it, I’m seeing my doctor, okay? Eileen is staying home from work again tomorrow to take me and to make sure I don’t duck out on the appointment.”

Eileen smiled and nodded her head. “Right on both counts, darling.”

Nuala also nodded her head, then patted her son’s hand and stood. “Well, then. It seems that Eileen is doing her usual bang-up job of keeping you in line.”

Jamie shook his head and sighed in an exaggerated fashion. “What is it about Irish women that make them believe that their men have no brains?”

“Years of experience, my son. I’ll leave you then. I’ve got church errands to run.”

Eileen got up from the sectional and walked her mother-in-law to the door. Frank and Nuala lived in a modest house a few blocks away, closer to Saint Brendan’s. “You’re always welcome here, Nuala. I’ll call you when we get back from the doctor tomorrow and let you know what he says.”

“Good,” said Nuala giving Jamie a final stern glance over her shoulder as she walked out the door. “I’d not be getting any information from himself over there.”

“Love you too, Mom.” Jamie knew his mother hated being called “Mom.” She thought the word too undignified. Nuala didn’t dignify his jibe with a response as Eileen closed the door.

“Do you really think you’re that funny?” Eileen asked as she rejoined her husband.

“No, but if I don’t give me Máthair a hard time, she’ll think I’m really sick. “

“Which you are. I’ve never seen you sick like this in twenty years of marriage.”

Jamie sighed again, this one not feigned. “I know, my love. I know. I’ll be a good lad and get some rest, and then we’ll see what Jerry has to say tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

It seemed as if just a few moments had passed when Eileen was rubbing his shoulder. Jamie shook his head, trying to clear out the cobwebs. Eileen crouched beside him, with a stern look on her face. “How long have I been asleep?” Jamie asked, sitting up and trying to stay upright.

“Tis just after lunchtime. When were you planning to tell me that Cal is coming over? He just called. He’ll be here in half an hour.”

“Wow, I must have been out of it—I didn’t hear the phone ring.”

“Don’t try to change the subject. I disconnected the phone here and muted the phone in the kitchen. What happened to taking it easy and resting?”

“Here now, woman, what do you think I’ve been doing?”

“You’ve been on the computer and on the phone every minute you’ve not been sleeping is what you’ve been doing. I hardly call that resting.”

“Eileen, how long have Cal and I been partners?”

“Almost ten years, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything. We just got a new case, and I’m letting Cal down.”

“Oh, you planned being sick did you?”

“Of course not, but he’s my partner and I’m not lying around while he’s working his ass off.”

After a few moments, Eileen raised her hands up and broke the stare-down. “Fine. You’ll do what you wish no matter what I say.” She stalked into the kitchen.

Jamie got up shakily from the couch. The fact that he hadn’t showered or shaved showed how ill he was. Jamie was very attentive to his personal hygiene, but it took too much energy lately. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower before Cal shows up,” he called to Eileen.

“Of course you are. If I hear any loud thuds, I’ll come pick you up.” she called from the kitchen.

Jamie did not reply. Instead, he just shook his head and navigated his way upstairs. Normally, getting a shower would revive him. Today, however, he felt drained after showering and throwing on a clean T-shirt and jogging pants. He was dragging himself back into the living room when the doorbell rang. “I’ve got it,” he called to Eileen.”

“Fine.” she called back. “I’m making coffee and sandwiches. Ask Cal what he’d like. He’s eaten here enough to know our usual fare.”

Jamie shook his head. What is it about Irish women that requires them to feed everyone? Jamie opened the door to see Cal standing on the porch. “Well, look who’s out on bail. Come in, Cal.”

Cushing shook Jamie’s proffered hand as he came in. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Griffin, but you look like something the cat dragged in.”

“Keep it down,” Jamie said. “I’m getting enough grief from everyone as it is.”

“You must think I’m deaf as well as stupid, Séamus Edward Griffin.” Jamie grimaced as Eileen’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Have the dear man sit and find out what he’d like on his sandwich.”

“Ham and Swiss will be fine, Eileen.”

“Coming right up. Cream and sugar in your coffee?”

“The way God intended it, yes ma’am.”

A few minutes later, Eileen came into the living room with a tray containing two large sandwiches and two mugs of steaming coffee. “Cal, maybe you can knock some sense into this hard-headed husband of mine.”

After taking his sandwich and coffee from her, Cal replied, “I don’t know, Eileen. In the ten years we’ve been partners, I haven’t had much luck on that count.”

“Well, I’ve been nagging him, his daughters have been nagging him, even his mother stopped by this morning to nag him, but we don’t seem to be getting through.”

Jamie groaned. “Leave it be, woman. All that nagging has made my headache even worse.” He was smiling as he said it, and he grabbed her hand. “Thanks for taking care of me, my love.”

Eileen sniffed. “Well, it hasn’t been easy, but I guess it’ll have to do. Cal, I’m heading to the store for the afternoon. Can you keep him in line for me?”

“I doubt it, but I’ll give it my best effort. Thanks for the food and coffee, Eileen. You’re a gem.”

“Don’t I know it.” added Jamie.

“Flattery will get you two everywhere.” She leaned down and gave Jamie a kiss. “Cal, it was good to see you, but if I find you here when I get home from work tonight, we’ll be having some words.”

Cal sat up straight and saluted smartly. “Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am. Right away, ma’am.”

“The two of you, I swear,” Eileen said, walking out of the room shaking her head.

Cal and Jamie ate their sandwiches in silence, waiting for Eileen to leave. It wasn’t that they had a problem discussing work in front of her—they just preferred to keep a clear line between police work and their personal lives. Jamie always struggled to leave his work at the office, but sometimes he couldn’t help having it intrude on his personal life. Occupational hazard, I guess.

They were finishing their sandwiches when they heard the garage door close. “So, where do we start?” Cal asked.

Jamie wolfed down the last bite of his sandwich and took a big gulp of the coffee. “Well, I actually found out some interesting stuff doing online research.”

“Told you, Griffin. The Internet is going to be one of our most valuable tools before long.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, here’s what I’ve got. Remember the burn mark we found on the body?” Cal nodded, finishing his sandwich. “Hanover was able to restore it despite the condition of the body. She scanned it and emailed it me.” Jamie handed Cal a piece of paper. “After doing some online research, I found out that this symbol is called a ‘skandola’.”

“Okay. I see a lion, bee, and scorpion.”

“Yeah, and the circle around them is actually a snake.”

Cal peered closer at the picture. “So it is, but what the hell is it supposed to be?”

“I’m not completely sure, but from what I’ve found out so far, it’s part of a Middle Eastern religion that dates back to around the time of Christ. The ring is a symbol of power of some type among the priests of the religion. They believe ancient man brought the ring back from the underworld. Some sources cited a belief that a skandola can be seen on images of the Shroud of Turin.”

“Wow. That’s cool.”

“Ah, here we go.”

Cal bristled. “What do you mean ‘here we go’?”

Jamie sighed and grinned. “Nothing, oh spook-master. I knew you’d go crazy with this crap.”

“Hey, just because you don’t believe in the supernatural doesn’t mean it’s just a load of crap.”

“True, but it’s a load of crap all the same.” Jamie held up his hands. “Anyway, I told Hanover what I’d found out and asked her if she knew anything about it or how we could find out more about it.”

“Yeah, Marie has an open mind unlike some people sitting in this room,” replied Cal.

“Again, I say anyway, she didn’t know anything about it, but said she might have a source who would be willing to talk to us about it.”

“Not if you go in with that attitude.”

“Just what she said. Now, back in the real world, yesterday I was able to do some research through the online case database and found more than a dozen cases scattered throughout the metro area where the corpse had what was called a ‘distinctive burn mark.’”

“The same mark?”

“I didn’t get that far. I ran out of gas—thanks to this damned flu or whatever it is. I wrote down the case numbers. Plus, I found another half dozen or so where the body was in too bad of shape to find anything, but had the same type of shriveling as we found on our girl.”

“So we may have a pattern.”

“Yeah. So here’s what I propose. You can get on Eileen’s laptop and between us, we can pull up the detailed files and attachments for each case to see if we can spot any connections.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The two men worked in silence, each making notes. Jamie used paper, while Cal typed his notes into a document. After two hours with nothing but bio breaks and coffee refills, they decided they had found all they were going to find in the online files. “So whaddya think?”

Cal rolled his neck to stretch out his muscles. “I think you’re right, partner. All of these cases are connected. The M.O. is too similar, not only the bodies, but the way in which they were disposed.”

“Agreed, and I’ve found a connection between at least some of the victims.”

“Really? Mine all seem to be random.”

“I don’t think so. Do your victims have anything in their files about a religious cult called ‘the Disciples of Endor’?”

Cal looked through his notes, and then did searches within each online file. After a few seconds, he sat up straight and swore. “Hell’s bells, yes. Not all of them, but in about half my cases, the investigating detectives mention of the group.”

“The others could either be truly random victims or their connection to the cult may not have been obvious to the investigators.”

“Right, so we need to do a little digging into the cult and see if we can find more concrete evidence of a connection.”
“Bingo. Not only should we ask around about these guys, I think we should pay them at visit at their offices.”

Cal shook his head. “You’re not cleared for field work, Jamie.”

Jamie made a face. “I know, I know, but I’m seeing the doc tomorrow, and I should be ready to get back into action by Monday.”

Cal nodded. “Okay, that works for me, except you mean Tuesday—Labor Day weekend, remember? I’ve got enough other crap to keep me busy until then.”

“Anything I can do to help?” asked Jamie.

“Yeah, you can get up off your dead ass and get back to work.”

“Ah, Christ on a crippled crutch. I’ll either get better soon or I’ll kill something.”

Cal gave his partner a serious look. “You still having headaches and fainting spells?”

“Yeah, some. I think I’ll be better soon. I’m only going to the doctor to keep Eileen happy.”

“Well, that’s a good enough reason for me. Just get better. I don’t need to be left hanging.”

Jamie started and gave Cal a puzzled look. “What do you mean ‘left hanging’? You don’t think I want to be sick do you?” he asked vehemently.

“No, no,” Cal protested. “I’m just bitching. Take it easy, Griffin.”

“Okay. I’m just tired of this crap.”

Cal stood and watched as Jamie struggled to his feet. “Well, from what I can see, you may actually need to visit the doctor. It’s been four days and you don’t look a helluva lot better, my friend.”

“Take a number, Cushing. I’m getting nagged by professionals—you’re just a rank amateur.”

Cushing laughed and walked to the door. “Got it. You need anything else before I head out? Maybe I could drop off one of my Stephen King novels?”

“I’d have to be dead before I’d read any of your supernatural claptrap. You’re not my nanny. I’m just glad I could help make some headway on this case.”

“Me too. Get better, pal.”

“That’s my plan.”

After Cal left, Jamie lay back down onto the sectional. I’m just going to rest here for a while, so I can honestly tell Eileen that I took it easy after Cal left.

It wasn’t long before Jamie fell into a deep, but troubled sleep. He plunged once again into the darkness from his previous nightmare. He looked around at the rifle shot sounds of the bridge disintegrating behind him. As before, Jamie turned and ran to the far side of the bridge, where everything seemed colorless and devoid of life. He barely reached the other side again, but this time, as he struggled to pull himself onto solid ground, he looked down at his legs. To his horror, he saw that an enormous snake, which was trying to pull him down into the abyss, ensnared his legs. Jamie screamed in rage and kicked his legs furiously, trying to dislodge the serpent. Jamie clung to one of the bridge supports with his right arm, and reached down with his left. A knife appeared from nowhere and Jamie swung it at the snake. The beast hissed and darted its head forward in an attempt to sink its fangs into Jamie’s arm. Jamie felt his grip failing, and he roared in his rage as….

Jamie awoke with a start, his body covered in a sheen of sweat and his headache now pounding an anvil chorus in his head. He sank back down to the sectional. Ah, Mother of God, enough. Enough already. He hadn’t told Eileen about his nightmares, but they were getting steadily worse. Jamie sat up, calming his racing heart and wiping the sweat from his forehead. Jamie was not a believer in the significance of dreams, but the nightmares were starting to make him wonder. Is there something more going on here than meets the eye? I really don’t need this shit.

As he rose on unsteady feet to get something for his headache, he wondered yet again whether this was just a case of the flu or if there might be something more serious, something more permanently wrong—something that might mean the end of his career as a police detective.