Chapter 9

Eventually April 15 rolled around. My hump was planted firmly in a pew within the Cult's chapel. I had come to their special service held at a time that took into account the work schedule of the special guests such as myself. These guests were designated by the lack of a white robe or tunic or whatever it was these yahoo's were wearing!

The choir made up mostly adults with a small spattering of youth belted out a surreal sounding rendition of Father Abraham. Then the clergyman with little fanfare stood in that perversion of a pulpit and gave a passionate sermon on the life, death and eventual second coming of Lincoln. He made careful mention to those of us outside the flock that all these things had been revealed by Reverend Daniel Johnston, the chosen mouthpiece of Abraham Lincoln & founder of the faith.

“I implore you, my fellow humans, to throw off these fleshy shackles and make yourselves ready! The Great Emancipator who we know was Christ’s second manifestation is among us even now seeking a pure bodily vessel to usher in his triumphant return!”

This was no con job. He was zealous. He fervently believed each word spewing from his mouth. I could tell many of the other guests were being drawn in too. I had little doubt he could have presented a serving tray with cups of laced flavor aid and they'd have reenacted Heaven’s Gate right here and now.

I quietly excused myself from the madness and upon exiting the sanctuary I decided to snoop around. People this deep into fanatical lunacy had to be hiding something. My gut was just telling me it was so. At first nothing really seemed amiss but as I approached one particular door that seemed conspicuous due to the coded lock I was cut off and intercepted by the creepy old man from the other night, the one that had sat upon the steps and hollered his doctrine at me. “Watcha doing?” he asked in a manner that was more a threatening demand than a question.

“I was looking for the bathroom.”

“Oh in that case my good fellow I'll show you the way.”

He placed his hand on my shoulder with pressure applied and escorted me to a door. He opened it and shoved me through it. It slammed shut behind and I was in the alley I'd walked through the night I discovered this place. Now I knew these creeps were hiding something.

Anybody else under the circumstances would have written this incident off. Maybe that was a food pantry or something, after all these people did seem to do charity around the colony (though it was probably to draw in followers) and the old cook thought I was trying to burgle the chapel. In this case the blade of Occam's razor was dull. I had gotten too close to something these “emancipated souls” didn't want disclosed.

Something was fishy here and it was threatening convicts and reformed settlers alike. I'll admit after having a fruitless two year investigation dropped in my lap my evidence was not really impressive. All I really had to go on was three things – first: I found a mangled hooker in the same vicinity as one of these Lincoln worshipers. Second: I had learned that the killings had begun two years after the cult's arrival on Grifter's End. Third: I had gotten thrown out by a devout old codger for getting too curious.

That itemized trio could be chalked up to good old fashioned coincidence but my gut said no and so far in my way too long career the gut had rarely ever led me down the wrong path. I had dots I just had to connect them & that presented a new set of complications.

I had a clue I could follow but without any computer and a month long communications gap with my outside man how in blazes could I research the man named Daniel Johnston? He was my best lead and I was up creek without a paddle. I decided to leave the lonesome alleyway and think things over at Yancy’s.

Alcoholic beverages dull the senses therefore I was busy nursing a tall cold glass of club soda. During my contemplation of the matters at hand it occurred to me I'd have to make the best use of the resources I had at hand. While they may be few, it was a matter of quality not quantity. I had access to two hubs of information so I would play yet another character in this drama, the curious onlooker.

I left my booth to talk with the bartender. “Say Yancy I've got a question?”

“What's on your mind?”

“I don't know man. I just left that service at the Emancipated Church or whatever it's called and it was…. strange.

“They're kind of all up in my noggin. Do you think they actually believe that stuff?”

He answered frankly, “I think it's a load of horse pucky! Hubbard had his space alien and these nuts have Abraham Lincoln.”

“Supposedly their doctrines were divine revelation from someone called Daniel Johnston ever heard of him?”

“Nope. I wouldn't know him from Adam. I think his revelation came from a less than holy crack pipe.”

Well this was a dead end. “Yeah that's just what I thought, Yancy.”

Stymied, I finished my club soda and returned to my apartment. I found a wrapped box on the kitchen table. Opening it with haste I discovered some sort of skinny speaker almost the size of a marker with a button on the side. A note was included on which the following had been written: “Tom, I know like the gun that gifting you this is risky but I thought it'd help us communicate since there's no phones here. Contact me when next you can__The Warden”

OK. Yes this would help. I went ahead and pressed the button. “MacGaven is that you?”

“Yes, Sir it's me.”

“Terrific. Have you found out anything?”

“Do you know about someone named Daniel Johnston?”

“Only that he was briefly in the news,for what I cannot remember. Why do you ask?”

I gave a brief explanation.

“MacGaven I'm warning you not to poke that hornets nest!”

“It's my job, Warden. You wanted me to solve a mystery that you and your men couldn't for two years. As far as I'm concerned these followers of Honest Abe are involved in some way.”

A brief silence that indicated a bruised ego. Then: “What do we do about Preston?”

“For now let him sit on his blood money. I’ll make my scheduled report to my outside man that'll give the perp ample time to think he's gotten away with the whole thing before the bust.”

“Ok. That's your jurisdiction. If that's what you think we should do I'll go along.”

After that we signed off.