Date: Wed, 23 Nov 2005 20:20:19 EST
From: RitchChristopher@cs.com
Subject: briarwood:far-from-the-crowd-42

All rights reserved. Copyright held by the author. If you are underage or
are offended by gay fiction, containing graphic sex and explicit language,
please exit now.

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                                  "BRIARWOOD"

                          aka "Whence Cometh My Help"

                                Revised Version


                                A dramatic saga

                                      by

			        Ritch Christopher

                                  <><><><><>

                                   BOOK FOUR

                             "FAR FROM THE CROWD"

                               Chapter Forty-two


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         "Vengeance has no foresight."...Napoleon Bonaparte

         "Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries
          are revenged, crimes are avenged."...Joseph Joubert

         "Retribution often means that we eventually do to ourselves
          what we have done unto others."...Eric Hoffer

	 "Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath:
          for it is written, Vengeance is mine. I will repay, saith
          the Lord." Romans 12:19



	Once 'Ida' had twisted the knob and the door moved about half an
inch, she was satisfied that Cliff had stupidly left it unlocked. She was
ready to make her surprise attack. She placed her left hand in the middle
of the upper door panel to swing it back as swiftly as her strength would
permit, while with her right hand she raised her sharp knife about head
high so she could pierce her victim with a quick downward thrust. It was
almost too easy. She made a game out of her action by actually counting,
"one, two, three" silently to herself. She was confident that Cliff was
unaware of her proposed attack and she felt that her first blow would
render enough harm to him that she could "finish him off" in a matter of
seconds.

	On 'three' she slammed the door back and lunged forward toward the
bathtub. Much to her surprise, in spite of the splashing noises she had
heard Cliff making, the tub was empty except for a full tub of hot
water. She had not planned on Cliff hiding behind the door with the huge
bath towel she had given him a few minutes before. The towel was soaking
wet to give it weight. Cliff threw it over the back of her head and, with a
tremendous heave, pushed her into the tub of scalding water, head first.

	"Surprise, Dorothy! Ida! Agnes! or whatever your name is!" Cliff
shouted.

	Cliff's body weight on top of her, holding her upper body under
water, was too much for Dorothy to overcome. She gasped as the hot water
went up her nose and down her throat, actually singeing the tiny hairs in
her nostrils and scorching the lining of her trachea.

	"Goddamn you!" she screamed, in between dunkings. "Who the fuck are
you, anyway?"

	"I'm a priest, Dorothy, and I'm doing my sacred duty by baptizing
you before you spend the rest of your life in prison. I baptize you in the
name of Stan Parker, Gene Cyphers, and my son, Timmy!" Cliff said as he
gave her still-covered head three quick dunks.  During Cliff's fast,
retaliatory move, "Ida" had dropped her knife, which landed on the floor
between the tub and the commode.  Cliff reached it with his foot and shoved
it clear out the door into the guest bedroom.

	Cliff had been totally prepared for a surprise assault. Rob had
filled him in on every detail he had learned about 'Dorothy' while he was
at the police station.  Cliff also had been told that there were no female
residents in their building, nor did they have a maid. So if any strange
female callers came by, to be especially cautious and leery of any tricks
because Timmy's assailant was still at large.

	As soon as Cliff had seen 'Ida' in her uniform, he knew who she was
and he had been hatching up a plan the whole time he had been on the phone
talking to Jeff.

	When he felt 'Ida's' resistance to the 'baptism' begin to subside,
Cliff reached for one of the long strips of adhesive tapes he had placed on
the towel rod behind the door, while he was pretending to prepare his
bath. He wrapped one of the strips around Ida's wrist and quickly caught
her other wrist with the long adhesive. Cliff reached for a second piece of
tape, a third, a fourth, until Ida's arms were taped behind her back and
were completely immobile. He had done the same thing to her ankles while he
sat on top of her.

	Once he felt securely that he had 'trapped' her, then, and only
then, did Cliff remove the towel covering her head. The temperature of the
water had done a frightful job to Ida's facial complexion. Pieces of skin
had torn loose and were dangling, somehow without bleeding.

	Cliff was trembling. Never in his life, even as a teen, had he
inflicted such pain on another living being. He was always too
tenderhearted to go hunting or fishing as a kid. He never threw rocks at
raccoons or snapped slingshots at crows as all his buddies had done as
kids. Cliff couldn't remember ever hitting or slapping anyone in
anger---ever. Now he was looking at the damage he, and the scalding water,
had done to Ida's face and neck.  He felt sick, as if he was about to throw
up, but he refused to give Ida even that much satisfaction.

	He quickly ran to the kitchen and got a large pot and filled it
with water and ice cubes and returned with it to apply cold compresses to
Ida's face. She was screaming from the pain. Cliff thought of Timmy and the
pain he had endured because of her, and Cliff felt very little remorse for
what he had done, much to his surprise. He was a priest and a lover of man,
but then Ida was a murderess and had tortured her victims. Maybe her pain
would cause her to feel remorse for HER actions.

	On his way back from the kitchen, Cliff had remembered to bring the
phone with him and called the operator, asking to be connected with the
20th Precinct.  Ray and John had just arrived when Cliff called. Ray
answered the phone.

	"Heffron, here. How can I help you?" Ray responded in a gruff voice
like someone who had not slept the night before.

	"Detective Heffron?"

	"That's me!"

	"My name is Cliff Cole. I believe you are one of the investigating
officers on the gay murders?"

	"Yeah, I am. So?"

	"You were one of the two that took Timmy Woodrow to the hospital last
night?"

	"Yeah, He was still in a coma. Did he die?"

	"Oh, no. He's recovering quite nicely. I am calling to say if
you'll return to his apartment, I think you'll find your suspect."

	"Are YOU in danger, Cliff?"

	"No, but I'm afraid your suspect is going to need an ambulance. I
have her apprehended in the bathroom. She's all tied up...or rather taped
up."

	"Don't you dare leave! My partner and I will be there with an EMS
in fifteen minutes."

	"I'll be here."

	"Just be careful. That woman is loony." Ray slammed down the phone.

	Cliff returned to the bathroom to continue his ministrations on his
first and only "victim".

	"Who are you?", Ida asked.

	"My name is Cliff. I'm Timmy and Rob's priest, as well as being
their adopted father."

	"How did you know it was me?"

	"Rob gave me a description. I knew you the moment I saw you."

	"So you let me just walk into your little trap?" Ida snarled.

	"Ida?...May I call you 'Ida'?"

	"My name is Agnes."

	"May I call you Agnes, then?"

	"Sure, why not?"

	"Can I ask 'why'?"

	"Why?...Why what?"

	"Why did you kill those others and almost take Timmy's life?"

	"You're a man of God. You figure it out!"

	"Pardon?"

	"I was acting on God's orders. He told me to get rid of as many
queers as possible. I suppose if you're friends of those two faggots that
live here, you must be one of them, too."

	Cliff didn't respond.

	"I read all about you and your kind in the news. It's a pity I
didn't kill you, too. It'd've been one more star in my crown."

	Cliff just sat quietly and let her talk to see how much she would
reveal. Anything she said might help with her prosecution and yet, it might
help him to understand her better.

	"Did you molest them as boys?"

	"No, I didn't molest them," That was the first question that Cliff
felt he should reply to.

	"Well, if you're a priest, there's probably a lot more you've
molested." Agnes blurted.

	"Sorry to disappoint you, Agnes, but I've never molested anyone in
my life."

	"Bullshit! Just because I didn't get you with my knife doesn't mean
that God won't send someone else just like me to rid the world of you and
the rest of your kind. You're gonna burn in hell! You know that, don't
you?"

	"I don't think so." Cliff said. "Have you thought that maybe your
soul might be in danger as a result of the murders you committed?"

	"NO! Not when you're smiting sinners with the sword of the
Lord. His hand was guiding me with every blow I struck. I suppose He'll be
disappointed that I didn't kill any more than I did. But I'm sure He'll
reward me justly for the small amount of His work that I DID do."

	"My poor Agnes, where did you learn your religion? You have such a
warped perspective on God and His works."

	"Warped, huh? I bet I could teach you a thing or two, you idol
worshipper! I've seen your churches with all your heathen statues. How many
miracles did Mary perform in the Bible? You'd rather pray to her than to
God! Your incense, rosary beads, and the medallions you wear around your
neck are works of the devil and some day God's gonna smite you and all
others like you down into the pits of hell where you belong!"

	"Where did you get the idea that you could take young lives?"

	"Straight out of Leviticus where it says the world needs to be rid
of all abominations!"

	"Agnes, I'll pray for you."

	"I don't need your prayers. No one listens to them anyway."

	"Someone does and I'll pray for you, just the same." Cliff said,
tenderly.

	There was a knock at the door. Cliff went to answer it, slipping
into a robe, before letting Ray and John in, along with two paramedics and
three policemen.

	"Cliff?" Ray asked.

	"Yes."

	"Where IS she?"

	"In the bathroom. She needs medical attention."

	"I'll give her a little attention, but not the kind she expects,"
Ray grunted as he plunged past Cliff to go into the bathroom. "Good God,
you wrapped her up like a 'sarcophagus!!" Ray exclaimed.

	"A what?" John asked, almost laughing out loud at Ray's malaprop.

	"A sarcophagus!" Ray retorted. "A fucking mummy, dummy!"

	Ray looked at Cliff to see if he was amused as himself. Cliff,
turned away smiling.

	"A sarcophagus, Ray," John managed to say, hiding his
mirth. "That's the coffin you put a mummy in..."

	"Well, whatever...she's taped securely. That's all that matters!"
Ray said, then turned to Agnes, "Well, little Miss Muffet, it looks like
you got caught in the web this time."

	"Go to hell, you enforcer of blasphemy!" Agnes shouted.

	"I'm afraid you'll see hell a lot sooner than I, you murderous
bitch!" Ray snarled at her. Then to the paramedics, "Make sure she's cuffed
before you remove the adhesive tape. This is one I don't want to get away!
Congratulations, Cliff, you seem to have done what we couldn't! How'd you
manage it?"

	"Just lucky, I guess...maybe a little divine intervention helped!"

	"How's your buddy doing?"

	"Timmy?"

	"Whatever..."

	"I think he's gonna be fine."

	"Some more of that intervention stuff, I suppose?"

	"I suppose." Cliff said quietly, with deep humility.

	By now the EMS had tended to Agnes' burns and secured her wrists
behind her. They laid her on the gurney, on her side and took her
downstairs to the ambulance with a police escort with their guns drawn.

	"Think it's all right to remove the tape from David's apartment
now?", John asked.

	"Can't wait to straighten up your little love nest?" Ray blurted.

	John dropped his eyes in embarrassment at Ray making such a
revealing remark in front of Cliff.

	"Sure...go ahead and rip it off!" Ray said to John, "We're gonna
need you to come down to the 20th for a full statement," he said to Cliff.

	"Glad to help," Cliff replied, "but I WOULD like to finish
bathing. I was just starting to clean up when I was 'interrupted',"

	"Go ahead. I'll leave my love-smitten partner behind to give you a
ride once you're finished."

	"Thanks," Cliff said.

	"No, thank you. Looks like the 20th owes you a debt of gratitude
for catching that bitch!"

	"I owe what happened to the description you gave to Rob while he
was at your station. Once I knew it was she, it was just a matter of
plotting a course of action. Fortunately, it worked."

	"Yeah, otherwise, we'd be investigating you as her next victim."

	This was the first time that Cliff realized how close he had been
in becoming Agnes' next victim. A shudder went through his body. "Do you
mind if I call the hospital and tell Rob what happened. I know he'll be
relieved."

	"Go ahead, there are no charges I can place against you. I ought to
pin a medal on you, but I'll wait and let the captain do that!" Ray left
while John went next door to remove the crime-scene tape and to open the
windows of David and Gene's apartment to air out the stuffiness. Cliff
retrieved the hospital phone number from the folded card in his pocket and
dialed Rob. He drew a huge sigh while the phone rang in order to give Rob a
calm account about what had just happened.  Cliff took his time, explaining
every detail. Rob all but jumped for joy on hearing Cliff's news.

	Cliff was still so ecstatic that the nightmare was finally over
that next he called Roger in Briarwood, recounting the incident to him. Of
course, Cliff couldn't see Roger's face, but Cliff could visualize Roger's big brown eyes getting bigger and bigger with each of Cliff's sentences.


	"Christ Almighty, Cliff!" Roger shouted. "And to think you didn't want me to go with you to New York?"

	"You know as well as I, my love, if you had been here, Dorothy would be dead!"

	"You're goddamned right she would be! She would have been a real sarcophagus! How the fuck are you? Are you hurt?"

	"No, I'm fine."

	"Damn it, Cliff! When you get home, I'm never letting you out of my sight...even long enough for you to go to the bathroom!"

	"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I think everything worked out according to God's plan."

	"I think I'll call Walter and tell him you need to change your surname again."

	"To what?"

	"You have your choice...'Dirty Harry Cole' or Father Cliff Callahan!"

	"I didn't shoot her, Roger!"

	"I would have!" Roger exclaimed. "What's the latest word on Timmy and when the hell are you coming home?"

	"As I told you earlier, Timmy is going to have a fine recovery...and I should be home in time for Sunday's mass. Are Chris and Ed still coming to dinner Friday night?"

	"Dear God, I hope so! If they don't we'll be eating Jay's leftovers for a month. You'd swear he's cooking for Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip."

	"Doesn't he always at every dinner party we have?"

	"Roger, I want to call Jeff and tell him what happened. I know he was as worried as you."

	"There's NO ONE including Jeff who's been as worried as I."

	"I'll make it up to you when I get home."

	"I'll talk to you tomorrow and you can tell me which flight you're taking!"

	"Okay...I love you, Roger."

	"You know I love you, babe, even though you make it difficult for me to love you at times. Jesus! The thought of that bitch with a butcher knife and you in the bathtub gives me chills!"

	"Take an extra clonidine, along with your Lotensin, atenolol, and Coreg before you go to bed."

	"Yes, Mother!...With a half a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue!"

	"I'm serious Roger! You don't need to elevate your blood pressure."

	After his call to Roger, Cliff called Jeff and related the entire evening's events to him.

	"Jesus Christ, Father Cliff! Is it all right if I call Father Chris and Dr. Middleton? They've been worried sick ever since you left."

	"Of course, Jeff. That will save me from having to tell my story twice more."

	"You know what, Father Cliff?"

	"What Jeff?"

	"I think you were wrong about Father Chris and Dr. Middleton."

	"What do you mean, 'wrong'?"

	"I think they've got a thing going on between them!"

	"Jeff? Have you been talking to Roger?"

	"What about?"

	"Never mind!"

	"So you're gonna be home by Sunday?"

	"It looks that way, Jeff."

	"Thank goodness! That means I won't have to deliver my sermon..."

	"Oh no it doesn't! Since I won't be home in time to prepare one for myself, it looks like you'll have to do it for me!"

	"Oh, shit!" Jeff exclaimed.

	"Attaboy! I love your enthusiasm!" Cliff joked. "I'll call you
again later tonight when I get back here from the hospital."

	"OK, Father."

	They said their goodbyes over the phone and Jeff called Chris' house and thought he had dialed the wrong number when Ed answered the phone.

	"Hello?" Ed said,

	"Dr. Middleton?"

	"Jeff?"

	"I thought I was calling Father Chris number. It looks as if I dialed yours by mistake instead."

	"No, you didn't Jeff, this is Chris telephone. He's gone to the little boys' room and should be back in a sec."

	"Oh, I was just so surprised when you answered."

	"I...I came by to see Chris to finalize some of the menus. He was tied up all day at church, what with Cliff being gone, and Chris didn't get a chance to stop by my office," Ed lied, hoping his explanation would satisfy Jeff's suspicious curiosity.

	"Well, I planned on calling you after I talked with Father Chris. I just talked with Father Cliff in New York and Timmy's gonna be fine."

	"That's wonderful news, Jeff. I know everyone will be relieved, especially Roger and Cliff."

	"You won't believe this, but Cliff caught the person who stabbed Timmy and wrapped her up in tape until the cops arrived to arrest her."

	"HER? You mean Timmy's attacker was a woman?"

	"A deadly woman. She must have killed several gay guys before she stabbed Timmy. Then when she tried to stab Father Cliff, he overpowered her and held her head under water in the bathtub."

	"Cliff did all that?"

	"That's what he told me."

	"My God! How horrifying it must have been for him. I suppose Cliff has already called Roger."

	"Yeah, Roger knows. I want to call my dad so if you'd be good enough to tell Father Chris that Father Cliff will be back in time for Sunday's mass, I'd appreciate it!"

	"I'll do just that, Jeff...and thanks for calling."

	"Bye, Dr. Middleton."

	"Good night, Jeff,"

	Chris came back into the den from the bathroom.

	"Did I hear the phone?"

	"Sit down, Chris, you won't believe what I have to tell you."

	Ed related everything Jeff had said to Chris and Chris was as
dumbfounded as anyone else who had heard of Cliff's bravery.

	"I always felt Cliff was a crusader, but it never occurred to me he
would have to carry a shield and lance!" Chris said.

	"At least Cliff caught the culprit and wasn't hurt. That's
something else we have to be thankful for."

	"I swear, Ed, hearing all that news has put me out of the mood for
a movie."

	"I feel the same way!" Ed said. "Why don't we just sit and talk?"

	"Very well."

	"Last night and today, reliving what happened between us last night
has all but left me speechless. I've thought of many things to say, but
none seems appropriate."

	"I thought we had settled on thinking that what happened was just
an extension of our new friendship," Chris said. "I'm sorry if it's still
bothering you.

	"Not the way you think. For the past twenty-four hours, I have been
questioning my inner being...perhaps a...well, MY suppressed
homosexuality."

	Chris had an idea where the conversation was headed and he wasn't
sure if he knew how to react. Maybe it would be better if Ed DID discuss
things to clear any anxiety between them.

	"Are you saying that you've found gay traits in your psyche?" Chris
asked.

	"That's a rather cold way of putting it. My brother was gay, as you
know. He died of AIDS, and all the time we were growing up, I didn't
exactly condone his lifestyle, but neither did I condemn it. I don't recall
going through any kind of homosexual phase in my childhood or my pre- or
post-adolescence. I guess Roy took care of it for both of us. When I became
an intern and examined my first male patient and was required to check out
his genitalia, I never felt a rush or excitement when I touched them. They
were just parts of his body like hands or feet. The male anatomy didn't
turn me on as much as the female. Perhaps I didn't get as much sex as I
desired during my teens...and yes, I'll confess, there have been times when
I felt an honest erection building up when I touched women's breasts or did
a Pap smear or a pelvic exam, but being a professional, I dared not let it go
any farther."

	"Ed if talking about this is difficult for you, we can just..."

	"Please let me go on, Chris, I've gone this far and I'm not sure
I'll be brave enough to finish if I don't try to say it to you now...that
is, if you feel like listening. I know you must have heard hundreds of
confessions already today."

	"I have the rest of the night to listen. Say as much as you like,"
Chris said, hiding a ray of enthusiasm.

	"The other day, before you invited me to dinner, you said
something about my not having a personal life, I should get out more. Enjoy
a few things...get to know people...not just patients! While we were having
dinner, it began to occur to me how right you were. I DON'T get out. The
only thing I have a passion for is my work. And then we sat here last night
and you played the Mahler over brandy. I hadn't been that relaxed in
years...literally, years!" Ed paused. "And then...we kissed. I wasn't, and
am still not, sure which of us instigated it...you or me. It doesn't
matter, we DID kiss...only once...but it happened. I don't know about you,
but at first, I was embarrassed and wanted to bolt toward the door, but I
didn't want to create a scene that we would have to be embarrassed about. I
mean, we still have to work together. In one sense of the word, you are my
superior. We are both adults...and professionals...each in our own
fields. In other cultures, Russia for example, men kiss instead of shaking
hands and it's accepted as the norm. Maybe ours was a different kind of
kiss, maybe it meant different things to each of us...but, God, this is
embarrassing to say, but I might as well be 'open' about it...I went home
and later that morning, I masturbated, thinking about you...and about that
kiss. It was like an epiphany, right there in my own bed...alone."

	There was another long pause. Chris sat silently giving Ed a chance
to finish before he said anything himself.

	"Chris...I wanted you there WITH me. I wanted to have sex with
you. Jesus Christ! Can't you say anything or am I just making an ass out of
myself?"

	"No, Ed. I hold what you just said sacred and dear. I wanted you to
stay and spend the night, but I didn't know how to phrase it. You're the
first man I've felt this way about in many years.  There was this kid in
Atlanta, but that entire relationship was too problematic. There was no
place to go or continue it, so I tucked my tail, packed my belongings and
fled in the middle of the night. You're the only man I've wanted to hold in
such a long, long time."

	"I hope our conversation doesn't sound too childlike. I...I almost
felt like a fool going home and masturbating like a silly love-smitten
teenager."

	"Will you just shut up and listen to me?" Chris said,
emphatically with an inward smile. "Ed, I don't want to scare you, but I
could easily fall in love with you."

	"It's strange that you said that because that's the way I feel. I
never knew men could fall in love as men and women do. I saw Roy fall in
love many times and I always thought it was just an extension of his sexual
feelings toward the guy he was dating...but you and I didn't have sex and I
DO have this feeling for you," he said in self-discovery.

	Their hidden emotions had been revealed to one another. It was a
matter of who would say what next and where was this going to lead.

	"Do you want me to say it out loud?" Ed asked, nervously.

	Chris was at a total loss of words.

	"OK, I'll go out on the biggest limb of my life," Ed continued,
"and I'll say it! Chris, I love you!" he blurted out.

	"I love you too, Ed." Chris said calmly. "I never thought I'd hear
those words coming from my mouth and especially to you because I knew that
your being straight made things hopeless for me. I mean, I didn't think I
stood a chance of ever hearing those words from you. It always been my
belief that straight men don't turn gay over night and certainly not after
only one kiss."

	"If I were a betting man, I'd've given you odds that you were
right...but maybe I've been gay all along and never had to face it until
you awakened me."

	"Do you think you can go along with the physical sex? I mean, it's
not all that important to me. I'm willing to wait until you feel you're
ready...and if you NEVER feel you are, then that's all right too!"

	"NO! I want the whole nine yards. I WANT to have sex with you,
Chris. It's all or nothing! Would you feel funny teaching a virgin, who
just happens to be a doctor, the ways and woes of masculine sex?"

	"Nothing would please me more." Chris said, with a smile in his
voice.

	"Chris are you familiar with an old movie, 'Tea and Sympathy'?"

	"Only vaguely."

	"It was originally a Broadway play written by John Anderson before
it became a movie. Deborah Kerr played the wife of a college coach and John
Kerr played a college student in whom Deborah had taken an interest. John
thought he was gay and Deborah, with her bold wisdom talked John into going
to bed with her. In that scene, she took John's hand to lead him to the
bedroom and said, "Years from now when you think of this...and you
WILL...please be kind."

	"Are you saying that to me?"

	"Chris, the thought of my going to bed with you makes me jittery
and nervous as a pimply faced adolescent. I'm a doctor, I know all the
parts of the human anatomy and what their functions are, better than most
people in the world. But I have no idea on earth how to have gay sex. I'm a
total neophyte."

	"It's like anything you do for the first time...swimming, riding a
bike, even smoking a cigarette. You don't do everything at once, you have
to wade in and get used to the water and conquer your elementary
fears. Then after that, it's one step at a time."

	"You promise not to laugh if I blunder?"

	"I'd die first."

	"Then, take my hand and lead me wherever you want. I'll follow you
as long as it takes."

	Chris took Ed's hand to take him into his bedroom. but first he
paused to kiss Ed very passionately. This helped to relax Ed and he felt he
was ready to impart on a new journey in his life.

	Two hours later, Chris and Ed had fallen deeply in love...and they
were both glad.

        * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

	The next day, after Cliff had made his statement at the 20th
Precinct and after he had paid one final visit to Timmy at St. Luke's, he
caught the next plane to Briarwood and hurried home to Roger.

	Stephen Sondheim was right, "No One Is Alone".


                            * * * * * * * * * * * * *

                                END OF BOOK FOUR


(To be continued in "Briarwood"---BOOK FIVE--chapter-forty-three