Chapter Five

Posted: February 15, 2016 by Ty in Speare Book 1

Mrs. Lowery was the only person at the church Tuesday through Friday 9 a.m. to 1 p.m.. Usually the minister would be around as well, except for the tiny little murder thing three months ago. There was a desk top, and while they worked on creating electronic documents for the Sacraments, she still had a manual type writer to enter the names on the certificates in the wall wrap around desk.
Three womb chairs were placed in front of the desk for those waiting, and behind sliding white doors (floor to ceiling, about five of them) is where they hid office supplies; the all in one copier monstrosity; and the filing cabinets with the historic church rolls.
In the corner was a small coffee table with coffee maker, cups, creamer and sugar, it saved the walk back through the winding hallway to and from the kitchen that was located just off the sanctuary. The coffee was almost done percolating when the church’s doorbell rang. In this new world one could not be too safe. One could not just leave the church constantly unlocked like in a black and white movie. Insurance companies did not like unlocked buildings, and too many riff raff in Mrs. Lowery’s opinion would wander through the building from the local schools and food banks if the doors were unlocked. Reverend O’Neil disliked her stance and on more than one occasion she would have to follow him around the building relocking the doors after he had unlocked them.
The woman who dressed in long skirts, white blouses, and drab cardigans rose from behind her desk and walked the short span to the building’s back door, a mere 6 feet from the office, and just by the public washrooms. The door was a classic metal door, with half being frosted safety glass. All Mrs. Lowery could make out was the form of a man. “Hello, how may I help you?”
The voice on the other side was grumbly and gruff. “Open the door, my key is not working.”
“Why do you have a key?”
“Because I sign your pay cheques woman!”
Mrs. Lowery shakes her head at the statement. “Oh Mr. Hasselback, you keep forgetting the new key code, we moved away from keys two years ago.” She pushes the fire door back and opens the door.
The form looks at her and smiles.
“Oh my you’re not Mr. Hasselback.”
“No, good day my dear.” A quick rapport of a .38 gun and Mrs. Lowery goes on to paradise. The form steps through the doorway and moves into the office. If the local school was any judge of character he had maybe two minutes before a nosey teacher or custodian would phone police.
Two minutes to locate what he needed to keep the secret.
Using leather gloved hands he slid the sliding doors open in the office to where the filing cabinet is. His hand moves to the O drawer and pulls out a file, he flips it open, deftly removing one piece of paper. The paper is folded and placed within his jacket. The file folder closed, returned to the drawer, drawer closed, sliding door slid shut. Forty-five seconds as he steps over Mrs. Lowery’s body, closes the back door and gets into his small black hatchback, leaving the church building.
Ninety seconds from gunshot to exit to main road and the sirens are heard. Thirty seconds faster response time than he expected, but still enough time to get away.


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