To Play The Fool Part 9

TWENTY-SEVEN.

By nature he was the sort of man who has that vanity which is the opposite of pride; that vanity which is very near to humility.

Kate was involved in the final stages of the case and even testified during the trial of Thomas Darcy, but her heart was not in it, and the case seemed remarkably distant and flat in the wake of the revelations of David Sawyeras statement.

Once they had the name, the case quickly became watertight: plane tickets, a gasoline station receipt, and a hotel clerk with a good memory placed him in San Francisco the week his brother was killed. The ident.i.ty of the John Doe in the park was confirmed as that of Alexander John Darcy through the partial fingerprint raised by forensics and the dental X ray sent by his Fort Worth dentist. By the time Thomas Darcy was faced with Beatrice, he had become slightly more wily, but he had still used a credit card to hire a car,- the newsagent in Fort Worth testified that Darcy had received the Wednesday San Francisco paper with the interview of Beatrice on the day after it had appeared, and Darcy was remembered by the sales clerk in a Pacifica hardware store where he had bought a pair of narrow, strong wire cutters. He even took the wire cutters home with him to Texas, where they were found in an odds-and-ends drawer in his kitchen. Forensic a.n.a.lysis proved that the clippers had been used on the cut ring found near Beatriceas body, a ring remembered well by many, including the owners of Sentient Beans, who testified at Darcyas trial, as well. The partial fingerprint lifted from the side of the ring had enough points of similarity to clinch the case.

For his brotheras death, he was found guilty of the lesser charge of manslaughter, but for the killing of Beatrice Jankowski, the charge of first-degree murder persisted to the final verdict.

He was never tried for the death of his brotheras dog Theophilus, although traces of canine blood were identified in the crevice between the sole and upper on the right boot of a pair in his closet.

Before all that, though, on the day Thomas Darcy was arrested in Fort Worth, Kate went to the jail and personally supervised the release of David Sawyer. She waited outside while his orange jail clothes were taken from him and his jeans and shirt, duffel coat and knit cap, the worn boots with the dust of Barstow still on them, the knapsack with two books and a jug of stale water, and the worn gold wedding ring were all returned to him. When he came out into the hallway, he was met by the sight of Inspector Kate Martinelli, propping herself up against a carved hiking stick nearly a foot taller than she.

He stopped.

aI thought you might want your stick back,a she said.

He did not answer and made no move to take the staff,- he said only, aIs there some place we can go for coffee?a She carried the awkward pole through the halls, into the elevator, out the doors, and down the street, finally threading it through the door of the coffee shop to lean it against the greasy wall in back of her chair, all the time wondering if he was going to leave the d.a.m.ned thing with her and what on earth she would do with it.

The waitress came by with her pad, looking as tired and disheveled as the chipped name tag pinned crookedly to her limp nylon uniform.

aJust coffee, thanks,a Kate said.

Sawyer looked into her dark eyes and smiled. aI, too, would like a cup of coffee, please, Elizabeth. Would you also be so kind as to give me some cream and some sugar to go in it?a The woman blinked, and Kate was aware of an odd gush of pleasure at Sawyeras undisguised enjoyment of the words he was p.r.o.nouncing. He seemed to taste them before he let them go, and she thought she was catching a glimpse of what Professor Whitlaw had meant when she described his power as a public speaker.

Their coffee came quickly. Sawyer opened two envelopes of sugar, stirred them and a large dollop of cream into the thick once-white mug, and put the spoon down on the table.

aBeatriceas funeral is this afternoon,a he said.

aI planned on going. Al, too.a aI asked Philip Gardner to take the service.a aYour license being expired,a she said with a smile.

aI did not feel I had the right to the ca.s.sock.a It suddenly struck Kate that he was not wearing his wedding ring, either. She set her cup down with a bang. aNow look, David, you canat go around taking all the worldas sins on your shoulders. You didnat kill her, Thomas Darcy did. Youare less to blame than the newspaper reporter.a aI only intend to shoulder my own sins, Kate, I a.s.sure you.a aThen whya"a He put up a hand. aPlease, Kate. This is something I must wrestle with alone, although I do truly appreciate your willingness to help me.a aWhere will you go? Do you have a place to stay?a aEve wishes me to go to the house she is borrowing, after the funeral. In fact, she has asked me to go with her to England, a.s.suming she can persuade the authorities to issue a pa.s.sport to a man with no identification papers.a aAnd will you?a Sawyer let his eyes drift away from Kate until he was focusing on the wall behind her. For a very long time, he studied the piece of carved wood that stood there, and slowly, slowly his face began to relax, to lose the taut, pinched look it had taken on with the news of Beatriceas death. Eventually he tore his gaze away from the staff and looked back at Kate, but he did not answer her question. Instead, he asked, aWill your friend come to the funeral, as well?a aMy friend?a Do you mean Lee? I hadnat thought to ask her. Itas difficult for her to get around. Sheas in a wheelchair.a aI know. Still, she might find it a good experience.a aLee has been to a depressing number of funerals over the last few years,a she said flatly. He nodded his understanding, finished his coffee, and stood up. Kate went to the cash register to pay their bill, and when she turned back to the room, she saw that Sawyer was standing outside the door. The staff was still leaning against the wall. She retrieved it, followed him outside, and stood beside him, looking at the familiar dingy street.

He was watching a filthy, decrepit, toothless individual pick fastidiously through a garbage can on the other side of the street. Kate waited to hear some apt quotation about the human condition, but when he spoke, it was in his own words, about his own condition. aEverything I told you, with the exception of seeing Thomas Darcy in a car reading a map, would be discounted as hearsay evidence, come the trial, would it not?a aSome of it would, yes.a aMost everything, I think. You do not need my testimony.a aThat depends on what forensics finds. If he covered his tracks carefully, weall be up s.h.i.t creek.a aWith my scant evidence your only paddle.a aThatas about it.a aWell. I donat imagine a defense counsel would permit it to get by without considerable battering. We shall just have to trust that more concrete evidence will be forthcoming.

aThank you for your friendship, Kate Martinelli,a he said abruptly. aI shall see you at the church this afternoon.a aWaita"David. Do you want your walking stick?a He looked at it, then looked at her, and a smile came onto his face: a sweet smile, a dazzling smilea"an Erasmus smile.

aYes. Yes, I suppose I do,a he said, and reached out his hand for it. He cupped his palm briefly over the smooth place on top of the carved head and then ran his hand down the shaft to the other worn patch just below shoulder height, and then he turned and walked away.

To her surprise, when Kate got back to her desk, she found herself phoning Lee to ask if she wanted to go to the funeral of this homeless woman whom Lee had never met. To her greater surprise, Lee said yes.

Half a dozen photographers lounged around the steps to the church, but Kate had expected them, so she continued on around the block to a delivery entrance. The morticianas van was parked there, and she pulled up behind it, extricated Lee and her chair from the car, and they entered the church through the side entrance.

There was a surprisingly large congregation. Kate recognized many of the faces in the pews from the investigation, most of them street people, a few store owners in Beatriceas home area of the Haight. Krishna and Leila from Sentient Beans were sitting in the front row,- the three veterans, with the damaged Tony in the middle, looking ready to bolt, sat in the last pew back. News reporters swelled the ranks and added contrast in the form of clean neckties and intact jackets. Al Hawkin sat almost directly across the church from them.

But no David Sawyer.

Kate took all this in as she was pushing Lee into a place along the side aisle. Then she took a seat beside her at the end of the pew.

She became aware of Philip Gardneras voice coming from the altar.

aWe thank you for giving her to us,a he was saying, aher family and friends, to know and love as a companion on our earthly pilgrimage. In your boundless compa.s.sion, console us who mourn.a A movement caught Kateas eye, one of the white-gowned deacons at Dean Gardneras side. It took a moment for her to realize it was David Sawyer. It took a while longer for her to recognize him, to her astonishment, as Brother Erasmus.

The service flowed past them. People stood up and read, haltingly or fluently. A hymn was sung, and another, and then Philip Gardner was raising his hands in blessing and declaring that the Lord would guide our feet into the way of peace, and it was over. The ca.s.socks and surplices fluttered up the aisle, people began to shuffle in their wake, and then Sawyer, or perhaps Erasmus, was sitting in the pew ahead of Kate, with Leeas hand in his. The ring, Kate noticed, was back on his hand. She made the introductions, although they hardly seemed necessary.

aThe wounded healer,a he said quietly in response to Leeas name.

aI might say the same of you,a Lee answered.

aAh. Answer a fool according to his folly,a he said with a grin.

aAnd are you? A fool, that is?a Lee leaned forward in the chair to study the old face opposite her. aAm I speaking with Brother Erasmus, or David Sawyer?a aI am Fortuneas fool,a he admitted. aAn old doting fool with one foot already in the grave. A lunatic, lean-witted fool. How well white hairs become a fool and jester.a aI think white hairs suit a fool very well. How does it go? aThis fellowas wise enough to play the fool.a a The old man looked, of all things, embarra.s.sed, and he seemed grateful for the interruption when Al Hawkin joined them. He stood up to shake Hawkinas hand.

aIs this the man that made the earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms? Hast thou found me, O mine enemy?a The detective laughed. aNever that. I just wanted to thank you for your help and wish you well.a aAllas well that ends well.a He turned to Kate, and she waited for his smile and his words, taken from someone else but made his own, and they came: aMay the Lord bless you and keep you; may the Lord make his face to shine upon you, and grant you peace.a aI take it youare planning on going back onto the streets?a she asked.

aIt is better never to begin a good work than, having begun it, to stop,a he said quietly.

aYouare getting old, David,a she said bluntly. aItas a young manas life. Talk to Philip Gardner. You can do your good work at the seminary.a He nearly laughed. aAmongst all these stirs of discontented strife. O, let me lead an academic life!a Kate had not heard Professor Whitlawas approach until the English voice came from behind her, sounding both disappointed and sad.

aHe was a scholar,a she said, stressing the past tense, aand a ripe and good one.a Brother Erasmus focused his gaze over Kateas shoulder but only shook his head gently.

aWell,a Kate said, afor G.o.das sake, take care of yourself and donat do anything stupid like you tried that day with the young drunk. You could get hurt.a His face relaxed into amus.e.m.e.nt, and something more. They could see, shining clear as day, the regained source of his serenity. aThe Lord is my light and my salvation,a he said simply. aWhom shall I fear?a

TWENTY-EIGHT.

Yet the friends of St. Francis have really contrived to leave behind a portrait, something almost resembling a devout and affectionate caricature.

Brother Erasmus, he who once was the Reverend Professor David Matthew Sawyer, spent the next twelve days with his old friend Eve Whitlaw at the house she had borrowed in Noe Valley. When Easter morning dawned, however, he was not at her house,- he was not even in San Francisco.

Neither Kate nor Al ever saw him after that. But among the homeless, the marginal, the discarded citizens of a number of large cities, the people of the street talk about Brother Erasmus. They say that he was a rich man who humbled himself, and that he had a small black-and-white dog, a sort of familiar spirit, who was killed by a demon man, who in turn was vanquished by Erasmus. They say that he healed a sick boy, that he foretold the future, that he transported himself magically across the waters.

They say he is dead. They also say that he lives and walks the streets unrecognized. Some call him a saint. Others say he was a fool.

These things they say about the man who called himself Brother Erasmus.

And they are all true.

end.