| General Fiction posted February 1, 2025 | Chapters: |
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cotton pants and Oxford wingtips in Alaska
A chapter in the book Ben Paul Persons
Ben Paul Persons, Ch 24
by Wayne Fowler
In the last part, Ben Paul and Sylvia toured Skagway and visited the probable cabin site and Ben Persons’ grave. The sheriff drove them to the cemetery but arranged for Pastor Helmsley to meet them and drive them back. The murder suspect showed up at the hotel asking about them.
Chapter 24
The days went by uneventfully. Ben Paul and Sylvia both decided that once back home, they would, except for jaunts to Cerrillos, be content in Creede. Ben Paul prepared his sermon, planning to preach Isaac’s digging out his father’s wells, and relating it to modern man metaphorically digging out the faith of his fathers, and also digging out the stoppage of one’s own wells of faith.
Ben Paul’s challenge was for hearers to question: What’s blocking your wells? Don’t sit there and dry up, deal with the obstacles. It’s within your power. Spring up, O well, abundantly!
Sunday morning, after offering a tiny biography of himself, Ben Paul began his sermon. “I don’t know how Presbyterians do things on Sunday, but I checked with your fine Pastor Helmsley and he said it would be alright.” He then led the congregation in a prayer and his sermon. The service closed with a call for those who would, come to the altar to worship and pray, that he and Pastor Helmsley wanted very much to help people pray that wells be unblocked.
The first to the altar was a man from the back pew. As Ben Paul leaned in to pray, his head to the man’s ear, the man opened the front of his light jacket to expose a Bowie knife in a black leather sheath. “I’m going to kill you, preacher.” At that, the man turned and left, leaving a momentarily stunned Ben Paul to move on to another.
+++
“We could fly out of here on a private plane,” Sylvia suggested after Ben Paul told her of the man, omitting his exact words.
“I’m not one to run, Sylvie.”
“No, you are not. But I’m not one to bury you, either.”
Ben Paul thought about the irony of a grave beside his father.
“We don’t go to the Sheriff’s office. We call him from right here.” They were still in the church, lingering while Pastor Helmsley shook the last hand and locked the front door.
“Pastor, I know we said we would be delighted to join you for Sunday dinner, but something has come up.”
“That stranger who came to the altar?”
“Well, yes. We can’t risk you and your wife.”
“Brother Persons, we don’t have a phone here in the church. One of the things we cut when my wife and I got here in order to get the finances under control. But, I have one at the parsonage. If you two will stay here, I’ll go call the sheriff. He’ll want a description, and he’ll have someone watch the house while we casually enjoy our repast. What do you think?”
“Sounds fine,” Sylvia said. “I just wish I could help your dear wife, but I’m staying here with Ben Paul.”
It wasn’t long before Deputy Dorsey arrived, and only a few minutes more for the sheriff. “I’m calling in my reserves and the ones on the fire department who’ve trained with handguns. We’ll take shifts and guard you two day and night until Tuesday. And then, Deputy Dorsey will ride the ferry to Juneau with you.”
“I will? Uh, I mean I will. But uh, sheriff, you know it doesn’t return until, uh…”
“Next Monday. But I’ll call the Governor’s office and try to get you on the next cruise ship.”
Deputy Dorsey nodded understanding. “Uh, will Juneau have someone to guard the Persons?” Dorsey asked.
The sheriff looked at him like he was stupid.
“But while we're discussing it, the state of Alaska will want you to testify when we catch him, assuming by then we’ve found the body.”
“If the bears haven’t eaten it,” Dorsey said, much to Sheriff Owens’ displeasure.
“But regardless. We’ll charge him and try him without a corpse. Been done before. Not here, but there’s precedent.”
“Portions might be… but you’re welcome to join us for dinner, Sheriff Owens.”
“Thank you the same,” the sheriff said, explaining that they could eat when everyone was safe.
+++
“Pretty sure it’s safe now,” Deputy Dorsey said, looking around as if laying the lie to his remark.
“We’ll be fine,” Ben Paul replied as he helped Sylvia into the taxi at the end of the pier. “Thank you so much for your sacrifice.”
“Oh, that’s fine. Give me a chance to catch a couple movies. Things we don’t get up in Skagway. McDonald's. I’ve been an Alaskan for six years, but there’s some things I don’t guess I’ll ever quit missin’. I keep hoping Juneau will get a McDonald’s.”
Ben Paul smiled and extended his hand. He looked around for someone to see whether anyone close enough would shoot a hole in his protector.
“Let’s find a laundromat before we check into a hotel,” Sylvia said.
Ben Paul found a Seattle newspaper that a customer had left. An article in the second section caught his attention. The headline read simply Bowie Knife. A reporter, probably sitting at home in the dry while it rained, but needing to get printable newspaper inches put together a set of speculations. Whether they had any validity, Ben Paul couldn’t guess. But the article included a sketch of the man who’d threatened him in the Presbyterian church. The article seemed to obsess over the man’s attire: cotton pants and Oxford wingtips.
Ben Paul, never the news hound, raced through the article, generally only reading the first sentence of each paragraph. Finished, he started over, paying closer attention the second time through.
The writer’s sources, if true, were extensive. Ben Paul couldn’t imagine the database that anyone could pick through to determine a single suspect in the various unsolved murders across the country. The victims varied: school teacher between classes, theater employee, subway rider, and public bus rider. Some of the victims’ situations were duplicated, but what was unique to the writer was that all were in public places and the descriptions of the suspect, where there were any, all fit the White Pass killer… and his attire. The writer speculated that he had some aversion to rough material touching his skin, some sort of fetish.
Ben Paul wondered whether the man might be a macabre collector, collecting states with Alaska now checked off his list. He hoped Alaska meant that he was done unless he was already on his way to Hawaii. And what if Alaska was the last, but now he would start over?
The last paragraph stood out in its gravity – several witnesses had been murdered after they had provided statements.
The ferry didn’t require identification. It was logical that the killer would have used that as a means of travel. It also fit his style. Maybe he didn’t kill anyone while on the ferry because he wasn’t sure that the deed would be attributed to Alaska. Maybe it would be international waters. Maybe that was why he chose the White Pass train.
One thing certain: it was very possible that the killer had followed them to Juneau. Ben Paul searched the area from the windows, and then the front door. He drew Sylvia’s suspicion when he told her that he would find a cab and have it stop in front of the door, that she should wait inside until he returned.
The next morning Ben Paul awakened with St. Paul’s words on his mind. It didn’t take him long to find the scripture in the first book of Timothy, chapter one, verse seven: For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. Ben Paul dispelled any notion of fear for himself or Sylvia. But overwhelming him was his love for the murderer’s next victim… and the soundness of stopping the man.
2 Tim 1:7 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
Ben Persons: young man called of God (1861-1890)
Ben Paul Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons (1891-)
Sylvia Adams Persons: grand-daughter of Livvy (1904-)
Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben (senior) rescued in 1886
Mary Goldman/Diddleknopper: wife of Slim
Billy Moore: retired ship captain who developed Skagway
Soapy Smith: Jefferson Randolf Smith was killed by Frank H. Reid. Killed by Ben Persons in this story
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Ben Persons: young man called of God (1861-1890)
Ben Paul Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons (1891-)
Sylvia Adams Persons: grand-daughter of Livvy (1904-)
Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben (senior) rescued in 1886
Mary Goldman/Diddleknopper: wife of Slim
Billy Moore: retired ship captain who developed Skagway
Soapy Smith: Jefferson Randolf Smith was killed by Frank H. Reid. Killed by Ben Persons in this story
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