Rapture Falls by Matt Drabble

other paramedic, a man whom he did not know, looked evermore nervous and uncomfortable at his partners demeanour , McCullum chose to address him instead, “ What’s the situation son”
    The younger man answered, “Throat wound sir, there’s a silver letter opener in the back office that looks to be the weapon used, he’s lost a lot of blood but we’ve got him stable, strange though”
    “What is?” McCullum enquired
    “Well from the amount of blood on the floor and the time of the call from the housekeeper I would have expected him to have been long since expired by the time that we got here”, Durham’s sharp intake caused his young co mpanion to look at him angrily, “Sorry Ian but you know what I mean” he offered.
    McCullum accompanied them back to the awaiting ambulance, he watched as they loaded the priest into the back, they were con stantly monitoring Jacobs and from their ever relaxing manners they were becoming increasingly calm over his condition . Durham closed himself into the rear of the ambulance with the priest leaving McCullum with his partner, McCullum raised an eyebrow at the younger man inquisitively ,
    “Ian’s a regular here, he doesn’t talk much about it but I know that he thinks the world of Father Jacobs, he nearly had a fit when we got here, I though t I was going to be loading him in the back with the priest” the paramedic walked around to the drivers door whilst McCullum filed this information away to be pondered whether or not this information was relevant.
    “Did he say anything, Father Jacobs I mean” he asked the departing paramedic through the driver’s window.
    “I think that he said something to Ian, but I couldn’t be 100% sure what it was, sounded like rain or dane or drain something like that”
    McCullum’s ears pricked at this “Could it have been Baine?”
    “Yeah, yeah that sounds about right, what does it mean?”
    “I have no idea” McCullum answered truthfully to himself as the ambulance pulled away leaving him standing alone with his somewhat confused thoughts. He stood outside just out of reach of the growing crowd, by now three other uniformed constables had arrived much to the relief of the younger man alone at the gates, the crowd had grown to around forty of fifty people all whom seemed terrified at the very thought of losing their pastor. McCullum had never been much into religion and failed to see the attraction in handing over so much control to an unproven unsubstantiated force, he had never felt the need to lean so heavily on others for support or for confirmation. He saw the scared faces on those camped outside of the wrought iron gates, expressions of panic and alarm, the horde slo wly parted as the forensic team led by DCI Jones fought their way through to the front , the DCI was not a morning person and McCullum was depressed to see him here at all. His fat superior barreled and shoved his through the people and their questions and greeted McCullum with his usual grace,
    “What the fuck hour do you call this Mac?” he barked sullenly
    “A little early Sir I’ll grant you” McCullum raised an internal eyebrow at the use of a nickname of any sort from Jones.
    “So what we got, some priest caught with his pecker stuck in a choirboy?” Jones’ attitude was a confusing mix of friendliness and aggression.
    “Too early to say at the minute, nothing at the scene, no witnesses as yet, jack shit really” McCullum hated doing it but he knew that it was necessary to resort to a more industrial language in order to ingratiate himself further in with his boss.
    The next couple of hours passed excruciatingly slowly as the forensic team took sample and photo’s whilst all the while McCullum had to summon up laughs and foul language as Jones spouted almost every bigoted and racist adjective and passed them off as humor. Finally, mercifully , they were done, the scene was documented and dusted , potential witnesses canvassed and questioned, the