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St. Mark's was quiet this morning. Father Tom Flannery genuflected on the padded kneeler of the back pew, meditating before mass. His prayers ascended through the peaceful stillness, with fervent hope that God would grant him the courage to do what he knew had to be done. Tom Flannery was not a coward, but he realized the potential for damage inherent in his plan. The odd triumvirate, his life for the past twelve years, was now being threatened by its own weight. Esther and Sidney had been placed in impossible positions, especially Esther. She had been the ever-faithful mother, protecting their son at each juncture, while he had been forced to benignly watch as Sidney became more and more detached from the world. Tom realized it was long past time for action, and no matter where it led or whom it hurt, he must help his son. He owed it to Sidney to tell him the truth, and the sooner the better. Then, he would go to the Bishop and explain the situation. Of course, it would most likely mean he would be asked to leave his beloved priesthood, but that was now a secondary concern. Esther and Sidney were foremost in his thoughts. There comes a time in a man's life when the piper must be paid, even if you can no longer dance.
CHAPTER 9
The public library was woefully inadequate. Fingers tracing numbers on the ends of the lines of books, Sam finally recognized the dusty volume he sought. He took the book off the shelf and walked back to the table where his legal pad awaited. It had been at least twenty-five years since Sam had attempted to conjugate any Latin, and even in those by-gone days, he hadn't been proficient. If there was to be a translation for the cryptic note left in his car, he would have to do it himself. He momentarily considered taking it to Father Flannery, but dismissed the idea quickly. If it was Tom Flannery who’d placed the note, he'd certainly be less than enthusiastic towards Sam's request, and if he wasn't, he'd certainly be inquisitive enough to put two and two together and come up with four.
No, this had to be a solitary mission. Sam picked up his legal pad, checked out the book, and strolled out into the night. The short walk back to his apartment would help invigorate him for the all-night task awaiting him. Nearby in the dimly lit recess of an overhanging mulberry bush, a reclining figure watched his every step, and the hint of a grin was quickly stifled.
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