Who Shot Pastor Boris?(1)

It was Saturday night in the living room of the community house.  Sally walked in.
"Jezebel, Jezebel," shouted one of the young men. 
"What's that all about?" asked Tommy.
"That woman is having an affair with one of the pastors," said Simon.
"I'd say that Pastor David is having an affair with her," shouted Matthew, at the top of his voice.  "I think that's disgusting."  They helped themselves to a light tea of sandwiches and cakes that were on the dining room table.  After that it was Matthew's turn to lead the Bible study.

 

Matthew began to read from the Bible, "You have heard that it was said, “You shall not commit adultery.” But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.  And if your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away; it is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to go into hell."  Matthew stared at Pastor David with an excited, angry look on his face.  He was imagining himself gouging Pastor David's eyes out or cutting one of his hands off.  For the moment, Matthew contented himself with continuing his reading from the Bible. "It was also said, 'Whoever divorces his wife, let him give her a certificate of divorce.  But I say to you that anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.'  Notice that our Lord allows divorce in the case of unchastity.  That is the only time he allows it.  There are people in this room who are committing adultery.  There are two people in this room who are having an affair."  Everybody looked at Pastor David and Sally, except for Matthew, who gazed longingly at Hazel.
"Take that look off your face," said Hazel.  "I know how much you like me, Matthew.  You threw my camera in the river on my wedding day.  Don't you think I know that my husband is having an affair?  If I'm not mistaken, it started last year.  I noticed the change but I just closed my eyes.  A woman knows these things.  Then I get hand written notes from members of the church telling me about my husband and some of the things he does, as if I was stupid."
"I have never slept with anyone other than my beautiful wife," said Pastor David.
"No," said Hazel.  "You were both wide awake the whole time."
"I've been giving the sisters baptismal instruction."
"People who are giving a sister baptismal instruction don't spend a whole afternoon walking with her along Bournemouth sea front.  Not when they're married to somebody else."
"That's where she was going to be baptised."
"This is not the first time.  It's not just Sally, is it David?"  Sally burst into tears and rushed out of the room.  "Sorry, Kitty Cat, did you think you were the only one?  Imagine how I feel."
"What do we believe about divorce?" Matthew continued.  "Under what circumstances should divorce be allowed?  Should divorced people be allowed to remarry?"  Matthew looked at Hazel.
"I am not a second hand car," said Hazel.  "You can't pay £5000 for me on the forecourt and drive me away.  You think I would end it right there and then.  Well Matthew, my fair weathered friend, you couldn't be more wrong."

 

On Saturday the church were all travelling to the 50th anniversary celebration meeting.  Hazel came into the motorway service station and saw Pastor David drinking a large milk shake, sitting at a table next to Sally.
"What are you doing here?" asked Pastor David.
"Now, let me see," said Hazel.  "I am travelling to London for the 50th anniversary celebration service.  I was on a long motorway drive and I needed a rest.  That is what you would say, isn't it dear?  Is your wife snooping on you?  Not a chance."
"How did you get here?  I organised the transport.  I made sure you didn't have a car.  You were on the minibus.  Did you come on a motorised skateboard?  They're good, those new skateboards."
"I came in my mother's car.  A car that you wouldn't recognise."
"There was just one car left and there were 2 people who had to go in it."
"Then why didn't you take me with you David?  I am your wife."
"Sally and me are just having some Christian fellowship."
"I saw you greet one another with a holy kiss.  I didn't think that French kissing was what the apostle had in mind.  Will I divorce you David?  No.  Too kind.  You are a church leader.  The newspapers will punish you for this.  One day, you'll be waiting for a train and you'll go into the shop to buy a paper.  You'll see the newspaper headlines.  The Mirror - Sex Cult Leader had 50 women.  The Mail - It Wasn't Adultery.  They Didn't End Up in Bed.  The Sun - Greet One Another With a Holy Kiss.  Which newspaper will you buy to read on your journey David?  The Sun, the Mail or the Mirror?"

 

Matthew arrived at the meeting.  It was in a big tent which was located in a big park in London.  He was one of the event stewards and stood proudly in his red steward's T shirt.
"Go and tell those people in the prayer tent to get out," said one of the men.  Matthew went to a small tent beside the main tent that was to be used to pray for people at the end of the meeting.
"Excuse me, could you please leave," he asked a woman.  "This is the prayer tent."
"We are having a prayer meeting," said the woman.
"Oh, I didn't realise.  Can l join you?"  Matthew sat down, folded his hands together, closed his eyes and listened to an old man praying.
"The Lord is angry with this church," said the old man.  "His hand of judgement is upon it.  Lord, smite this church, smite it.  Oh Lord, the hour has come.  Judgement and destruction have come upon Jerusalem.  Oh Lord, hit this church so hard this weekend.  Hit it with something that is so terrible it can only happen once."
"The clouds are gathering," said the woman.  "The fire of judgement burns.  The lightning shall fall.  This weekend it will strike.  Open their eyes that they may see sense.  Open their eyes that they may see the error of their ways.  We pray for people to leave community.  We pray for the church to run out of money.  Cause a crisis Lord, cause a financial crisis.  Never shall this church last another 5 years."  Matthew was horrified.
"Most people pray for good things to happen.  Why are you praying for the church to close?"
"We're the Piddledon Farm Survivors," said the old man.
"It is possible for you to leave," said the woman.
"It is possible for anyone to walk out of that door."
"But some people are afraid to walk out of that door.  Afraid of what others might say."
"They shouldn't be so frightened of what other people think."  Matthew returned to stewarding the meeting in the main tent.  Pastor Boris stood on the stage.
"A very warm welcome to the fiftieth anniversary celebration service of Piddledon Farm Community Church."  A single gunshot rang out from the crowd.  Pastor Boris closed his eyes and fell to the ground.  An old lady ran out of the tent.

 

"She was sitting next to me," said Angie.
"If she was sitting next to you, why didn't you try to stop her?" asked Stanley.
"She's a mad woman with a gun.  She'd kill me, she'd kill you.  I did what the police tell you to do on the news.  I ran as fast as I could and dialled 999."
"Angie, thank goodness you did the sensible thing," said Matthew.  "Not like some people who stand around filming the incident on their mobile phones."
"Officer," said Simon to the policeman who had just arrived at the scene, "I got some excellent footage of the shooting on my mobile phone.  I thought she was going to shoot loads of people but she only shot Pastor Boris.  I think I got a good shot of her running away."  He handed the phone to the policeman.  The policeman looked at the film clip and also looked through the messages.
"What's this?  'Pastor Marmite, don't worry.  If someone was going to kill you, they wouldn't keep phoning you up and telling you about it.'  Well, you were wrong there, weren't you?  Why is he called Pastor Marmite?"
"He's like Marmite," said Simon.  "You either love him or you hate him.  You either want to sell your house and give him all the money or you want to kill him with a shotgun.  He has that effect on people."
"Any idea who would want to do this?"
"You're talking about Pastor Boris Yarovesky," said Stanley.  "He wasn't killed by someone under orders from Isis for being a good Christian."
"Did the man have many enemies?"
"How long have you got?" asked Matthew.  "If we come down to the police station after lunch, what time do you finish your shift?"
"I can work overtime if necessary."
"You'll be there until midnight," said Stanley.

 

Simon sat in the police station interview room.
"And another thing Pastor Boris used to do, he used to tell people they were being weird.  He'd say, stop banging that balloon on the end of your nose, it's weird.  You'll never be able to draw new people into this church if you've got a weird vibe about you."
"We've had so many hours of interviews today," said the policeman.  "I'm so glad we've got this new electronic recording system and we don't do it on cassette tape anymore.  I'd have to go to Woolworths and buy a new rack to put the cassettes in."  The Sergeant came bursting into the room.
"They've arrested the old lady at Heathrow airport," he said.

 

At Heathrow airport the old lady was in the departure lounge.
"You're the old lady who shot the old man," shouted the security guard.
"I am the lady who shot her church pastor," she said.  "Neither of us were particularly old."
She pulled the tiny gun out of her handbag and handed the security guard her suitcase.  "I demand that you take the suitcase to my plane and allow me to board my flight.  Don't call the police."  She walked through the departure gate and entered the aeroplane on which she had booked a seat.  She pointed the gun at one of the cabin crew.  "I demand to be taken to New York."
"That's where we're going."
"I demand that you allow me to sit in the seat that I have booked on this plane, continue the flight as if nothing has happened and don't call the police."
"I think the police are already here."  The old lady looked down at the tiny little gun she held in her hand.  The barrel was only the width of a ball point pen and the length of a cigarette.  The police marksman held a machine gun with a barrel a foot long.
"That is not a gun," said the policeman.  "This is a gun."

 

The old lady sat in an interrogation room at Bournemouth police station.
"I was going to go to New York and rent a room in an apartment somewhere," she said.  "I get my pension paid on to my Barclay Card.  My Barclay Card doesn't know which country I'm in.  I thought the Americans would refuse to extradite me because my crime was political."
"Why was your crime political?" asked the policeman.
"Pastor Boris was the dictator of his own communist republic.  He took my son and my daughter and made them live with him in his socialist paradise."

 

Simon was still sitting with another police officer in another interrogation room.
"Officer," Simon said, "if you want to know why that old lady shot Pastor Boris, you need to go back to when this church began.  We need to write a whole novel.  We need to make a film.  We need to produce a whole television series."
"Do you think anyone would buy it?" asked the policeman.
"Oh yeah."