An Eye For An Eye
John D. Ritchie
The Right Reverend Granchester Meadows, DD, incumbent of the living of
All Souls without, in the London borough of Hampstead looked both
sorrowful and determined.
'I'm afraid' - the familiar lie slipped from his wet lips - 'that we
cannot accommodate suicides in hallowed ground. The Church is quite
Chloe Armstrong, newly widowed, stared at him, her eyes raw from crying.
'But it was an accident, I'm sure...Dennis had cancer; he was in terrible
pain...he...' her voice trailed off into fresh sobbing. Her son put his
hand on her shoulder and she turned to press her face against his chest.
'There is nothing you can do?'
Andrew Armstrong watched unemotionally as the Reverend Meadows squirmed
in front of him. Armstrong knew he appealed to certain men. Masochistic
homosexuals like Meadows melted in his presence. But he also knew that
Meadows thought his secret safe. Downloading hard-core porn from
Internet sites, however, is a risky business; especially when those
sites are being monitored by the authorities.
'My father was a good man, Mr Meadows,' Armstrong ignored Meadow's
shock at his calculated insult. 'An honest, hard-working Christian who
looked only for his just reward. He did not deliberately kill himself.'
'The evidence -'
'If you'll let me finish.'
For a moment Armstrong nearly lost control. His need to crush this
slimy insect under his heel was almost overwhelming.
'The evidence is conclusive. Your father, God rest his soul, -'
'You sanctimonious little shit!'
'Andrew! Please forgive him Reverend, he doesn't know what he is
'Sorry, Mum. My apologies, Mr Meadows.'
Granchester Meadows looked into Armstrong's grey eyes as he took the
proffered hand and felt his scrotum tingle at the strength he sensed in
that gentle grip. Later that night, alone in bed, he smiled as he
pretended it was Armstrong's hand in his pyjamas.
Nearby, in his tiny office in the rear of Backlane police station,
Armstrong was also smiling. He was holding a video cassette in his
gloved hand. The same glove he had been wearing when he shook hands
with Meadows. Treated with a light coating of super glue, the glove had
taken Meadow's palm print and had now transferred it to the video
cassette. The local newspaper had reported that a new cemetery was to
be consecrated in the borough by the Reverend Granchester Meadows, his
photograph accompanying the article. Well, if Meadows wouldn't bury
Armstrong's father, Armstrong would surely bury Meadows. The video
recording had some of the most nauseating images Armstrong had ever
seen in his time with the Vice Squad. Carefully planted the tape would
destroy Meadows. "You crossed the wrong man," mused Armstrong, drawing
an X-shaped cross on Meadow's face.
First published: November, 2006
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