The vicar St. Moritz, sat across from the two detectives, he was left frustrated by the entire situation, John pushed his brown hair back. “When is this going to end? Are you ever going to let me go?” John inquired. “We will end this interrogation as soon as you confess.” Deneby remarked. “Confess to what, I haven’t done anything!” John protested.
Deneby switched in his chair, he sat coolly back into his chair. “If you don’t mind me saying so, Mr. St. Moritz, you certainly do have quite a temper.” The Detective observed. “Isn’t a vicar’s such as you, supposed to be patient and calm?” He continuously egged him on. Suddenly John started to lean in closer. “Tell me, Inspector, how am I supposed to be calm when I am being accused of murder?” John lashed out at the detective. “Has your anger ever become so bad that you have become violent?”
“Of course not! Sister Gertrude was like a grandmother to me, but I never would have harmed her!” He angrily insisted. Deneby nearly jumped at John from his chair. “You expect me to believe that? A nun is dead because of you!”
“How could I have possibly done this, when Sister Gertrude died I wasn’t even home, I was at my grandmother’s funeral?” John fought. The interview was suddenly stopped when the door was thrown open.
“Inspector,” The desk sergeant popped his head inside. “The vicar’s bail has been posted.” He declared from the open doorway.
“Can I go now?” John asked. Inspector Deneby turned a sour frown as he pointed the door. Offended by their accusations, he was more than eager to return home.
When John entered the parish house, he found it was amerced entirely in a blanket of darkness, even the lamps in the front hall weren’t left on. As John came further into the house, he detected footsteps right over his head. “Father McFlannery, Sister Joan, is that you?” John called out from the bottom of the staircase. Suddenly the footsteps ceased only to be replaced by scratching noises on the ceiling. “Is there anyone up there?” As he slowly ascended the stairs, the noises stopped. “Sister Joan, Father McFlannery, are you home?” John called out again to them.
When he reached the landing, a porcelain vase came flying passed John and narrowly hit him in the head, and it was a good thing he ducked in time, because the vase wound up smashed up against the wall behind him where it laid smashed into pieces on the floor; now John was certain he was not alone in the house.
When he tried going further up the stairs, he was stopped by yet another flying vase. Suddenly out of nowhere, John felt himself being pushed up against the wall, a gust of cold wind came and picked John up and tossed his slender frame down the stair, strangely he remained uninjured. John stumbled back up onto his feet. At the top of the landing, a dark shadow appeared. “If anyone is up there, I suggest you show yourself now!” John took a baseball bat one of the kids left at the house and planned on using it as a weapon. “I’ve got a bat and I’m not afraid to use it!” He meekly warned. The dark shadow at the top of the stairs began turning into a human form. John’s eyed widened when he at last recognized the intruder. “Grandma?” He whispered.