Untold Mercy: He Kept Her Secret. Now It Will Cost Him His Life.

By Alan Updyke

More than a nail-biting thriller, “Untold Mercy,” the novel by Alan Updyke, will challenge your faith, expose your misunderstanding of religion, and lead you into a more intimate relationship with God.
And that’s a tall order!
Because of their crises and the prodding suggestions made in notes from an anonymous observer, the Advocate, Samuel Urban and his girlfriend, Jodi Culp, despair over the rejection they feel from those who should be helping them: their friends, families, and pastors. But once emptied of the confidence they held in the institutions represented by those who reject them in their time of desperate need, their minds and hearts are opened to a greater truth: the sincerity of God’s unfailing love.
It’s mind boggling and truly inspirational!
The subjects we are told to avoid in conversation, religion and politics, are approached with a sensitivity to the readers’ firmly held beliefs, but the fallacy of such ideals is then exposed by a series of events that will challenge their views. (Don’t worry – the story is set in 1985. With current politics exempt, only the foundations are exposed.)
The revelation that comes in experiencing the journey of the protagonists is a trek you will be glad you took.
SYNOPSIS
In the small town of Walthem, Samuel Urban is known as the people’s judge. Our story begins with a cop rushing to Sam’s home, an arrest warrant in his hand.
Now Sam will have to fight to establish his innocence and save his reputation from those who desire to lynch him: a mysterious alliance. From them there will be no reprieve, because they lack understanding.
Sam is in serious trouble, still, there is a force at work in his life greater than the reckless power of his enemies, which they use to oppress their pawns, minions within their grasp.
Sam’s journey, one of pitfalls and recovery, is something people still talk about. During his teenage years he became terribly lost, a victim of unfortunate circumstances and the system’s need to punish: they called it justice served. Then the decision of Sam’s predecessor, still controversial, changed everything. Judge Williams saved him from the penalty that loomed like a noose, determined to claim the young man’s life.
But Sam’s reprieve stirred resentment in one who would become his archenemy. This person seethed in anger at the announcement of Sam Urban’s release from jail and the thought of him going free made his nemesis feel nauseous.
This is Sam’s story: the mistakes he made, the people he hurt and the grudges they held, but most importantly, the invisible forces that battled for his heart and soul.
Law enforcement officials despised him, whom they called the “liberal judge,” and welcomed the chance for revenge of the many times he made them appear foolish in his courtroom.
Battle lines are drawn. Their game of war is about to commence. But in truth, life is surely much more than a game.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan Updyke
• Release date: Sep 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463175668

Alan Updyke

Alan Updyke is a retired journalist. At the time of his retirement, he was the publisher of a community newspaper that reached 10,000 weekly readers.His tenure included photo journalism, feature writing, and editing. His purpose with the newspaper was to inform the public and to assist his readers in promoting their community projects. He often helped those who suffered personal tragedies by printing insightful reports and promoting fundraisers.His passion now is to write novels that inspire.After more than forty years of working as a reporter, editor and newspaper publisher, his goal in writing is to be provocative, controversial, and insightful.

Book preview

It all happens in

9 Short DAYS

A small town in rural PA goes crazy with rumor and accusation.

Secrets of their past are revealed.

Haunts are confronted.

Guilt is released.

Prison doors are opened.

Experience their life change.

"Untold Mercy: He kept her secret. Now it will cost him his life,"

is an action thriller worthy of your consideration.

Untold Mercy

He kept her secret.

Now it will cost him his life.

by Alan Updyke

Is he guilty as charged?

Trapped in conflict, wanting mercy but fearing a harsh sentence, Sam must prepare for trial. Will he believe in the advocacy of love or succumb to the condemnation of religion? He is the people’s judge and it is his constituency which will hear the accusation. Harsh judgment breeds resentment, but mercy – forgiveness. And it is in this choice that a greater truth is revealed.

Battle lines are drawn. A game of war for his soul is about to commence.

MERCY TRIUMPHS OVER JUDGMENT. 1

UNTOLD MERCY

Text copyright © 2021 Alan Updyke

© 2021 Status

© 2021 Updyke Books

All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced without prior written permission.

He is unseen. His message is often unheard, his presence undetected. But behind the scenes, the Advocate is working in your life, and He has a reason for doing so: Untold Mercy.

Here is s a story of mercy and grace. It is among those that urge us to believe in truths higher than our preferred opinions, to act in ways that honor the image of God in others.

UNTOLD MERCY promises these elements with a beautiful theme and intent. We all enjoy stories that spark the imagination in the way the Advocate does - that perhaps someone wiser and more knowing looks out for us and, if we are paying attention, guides us toward best outcomes.

More than a nail-biting thriller, "Untold Mercy," the novel by Alan Updyke, will challenge your faith, expose your misunderstanding of religion, and lead you into a more intimate relationship with God.

And that’s a tall order!

Because of their crises and the prodding suggestions made in notes from an anonymous observer, the Advocate, Samuel Urban and his girlfriend, Jodi Culp, despair over the rejection they feel from those who should be helping them: their friends, families, and pastors.  But once emptied of the confidence they held in the institutions represented by those who reject them in their time of desperate need, their minds and hearts are opened to a greater truth: the sincerity of God’s unfailing love.

It’s mind boggling and truly inspirational!

The subjects we are told to avoid in conversation, religion and politics, are approached with a sensitivity to the readers’ firmly held beliefs, but the fallacy of such ideals is then exposed by a series of events that will challenge their views. (Don’t worry – the story is set in 1985. With current politics exempt, only the foundations are exposed.)

The revelation that comes in experiencing the journey of the protagonists is a trek you will be glad you took.

CHAPTER ONE

The victim’s scream: it is intensely shrill and unnerving. It was her cry for help, her pleading for life.

It was something Sam could not erase from his mind - a flashback that often replayed as his thoughts drifted – a torturous daydream – an instant mood changer – bringing a flood of guilt.

When he heard her screaming, he was at first overwhelmed with uncertainty – his vision blurred – sounds distant – pain surging in his legs – fear rising. There in front of him Sam saw a crushed car, a young woman sitting upright with blood streaming down her face. He heard a hissing noise and then one sound became more recognizable – a baby crying. There was a loud popping and a sudden flash of heat. Flames began licking at the edges of the car’s crumpled hood. Shattered glass was everywhere.

And then the screaming began. The torture of a human being unfolded in slow motion before his shocked eyes and consumed his bewildered mind.

Many Years Later:

Wednesday, May 8, 1985

Their lives were going… well, in reality, if they were to be honest with themselves, just a little better than okay. And then the events of this fateful morning, Wednesday, May 8, 1985, came upon them like a sudden and unexpected storm of huge proportions – a personal tsunami!

Samuel Urban had been arrested on criminal charges once before. Instinct learned from his prior experience caused him to immediately clam up – and withdraw to his safe house – a place without emotion: hope or fear. But for his girlfriend, the young woman who hoped to be, even considered herself to be his life’s mate, this was a disaster she was unprepared for; and Jodi Culp was about to fall apart. She had been waiting anxiously for his marriage proposal, but now, she suddenly wondered if they were about to be swept into a sea of uncertainty and be lost, drifting about without an anchor or sail to be steadfast or directed.

Sirens wailed as the state police cruiser raced down Route 11. They were sent to get their man, the one they despised. This retribution was, in their opinion, long overdue.

Mike smiled with glee, riding shotgun and holding the arrest warrant. Are you sure he will be home? he asked his partner, another trooper.

Should be, George answered. Neighbor said his car is in the driveway.

Mike was gloating about their plan to remove the liberal judge that often embarrassed them in the courtroom. Can’t wait to see the look on his face. He’s had this coming for a long time.

Yea. Think I’ll address him as judge, just to emphasize the farce that he is… ‘Judge, you’re under arrest… again! George rehearsed. Has a certain ring to it, don’t you think? He raised his hand for a fist bump. Let’s get him.

He’s going to be arraigned today? Mike inquired after a moment of silence and continued, Hope the press has been given ample notice to attend the festivities.

Oh yea. Sarge took care of that. It should be a real picnic! I can’t wait to see the front page of tomorrow’s paper.

Five minutes prior, a telephone rang frantically. Jodi was in the bathroom applying makeup and contemplating her age as evidenced in the mirror she had begun to resent while subconsciously counting the rings of the phone – fourteen, fifteen... This day she was weary even before arriving at work. She wondered what could be so important – twenty-six, twenty-seven. She dropped her mascara and turned to go for the bedroom phone when it suddenly went silent. She stood there, midway in the distance to the night stand, and wondered about the call’s urgency. Turning back toward the bathroom its incessant ring suddenly broke the silence once again and jarred in her mind.

Hello, she answered softly to show her lack of enthusiasm for the early morning intrusion.

Jodi! Jodi, they are coming for him!

She massaged her forehead between her thumb and forefinger. She could already feel a headache coming on. Susan, slow down. What are you talking about anyway?

Sam! They’re out for him. With a warrant. They are charging him, Jodi! she spoke with short proclamations. It just came over the scanner even as Sergeant Wilson was calling my boss to inform him of the arraignment. It’s all set up. Strickland already sent out Maggie, and even gave her a photographer.

Susan Kasper was a junior reporter with the Morning Herald where Jodi also worked in the advertising production department. They often shared a corner in the lunchroom and had become close friends.

Jodi felt panic and then slowed her breathing long enough for reflective thoughts to come into her mind. This arrest - it had to be a misunderstanding, she reasoned while trying to stay calm. She remembered the time she was with Sam as he told her about being interrogated by the police. She believed him then, when he explained it all to her. He was very sincere in his explanation so she had no reason to doubt him. Not then, and still, not now. That conversation was on a Sunday, ten days ago.

She began that day by attending church, although Sam declined the invitation to accompany her. Her pastor, Father Jacob, spoke about forgiving others as directed by the Lord’s Prayer. Jodi wanted to be free of suspicion with Sam. She wanted to be a good person without grudges, as urged by the priest.

In another place, a large two-story brick house, the rectory in which Father Jacob resided, the telephone remained silent as the off-duty clergyman watched the morning newscast on his television set. He was still dressed in his silk pajamas topped off with a striped smoking jacket. His vest pocket contained two Cuban cigars, still in their wrappers.

His housekeeper, Ms. Martha Jenkins, was busy in the kitchen finishing the dishes after serving him breakfast. Jacob looked toward her with contemplation, but did not speak a word to reveal his desire, as he closely observed the swaying of her body. He always spoke to her fondly, as if expressing sympathy, but she was as a professional to ethics, chaste as a woman, and uncompromising in her belief of the priestly vow. She wasn’t about to make the same mistake Darcy made. The clergyman’s advances went on, day after day, without acknowledgement from her. When he touched her clothing, she promptly slapped his hand.

Jacob turned to look at a small framed photograph that stood among reference books and decorative bookends in what he referred to as his library with prideful acclaim. The photograph did not stand out, as if demanding recognition, but blended with its surroundings. Visitors seldom acknowledged it, and that was fine with this priest who didn’t want to expound on its significance. Pictured was an attractive young woman holding a little boy, riding on his mother’s hip, and smiling broadly. The photograph expressed joy, and although the memory was fond for Jacob, it presently stirred anger within him. His dear Darcy had suffered a terrible fate. The picture served not as a reminder of happy times, but as a directive for revenge.

Father Jacob refilled his tall glass with red wine from a decanter kept on a mirrored tray at the sideboard and again looked to the telephone on the coffee table. He tapped his fingers there. He was becoming impatient while waiting for his call.

Finally, the cordless phone rattled and he grabbed it before the third ring.

Hello, Father Jacob here.

You can drop the formality with me, was the curt reply.

Karen, the priest responded, I hope it is good news.

Surely. By now you should have confidence in me. I have clout. Karen Jackson was an elected official in the district.

Oh yes, I know that you are very capable.

Sure, but now we have another matter of urgent concern.

What’s that?

Jen. Our dear sister is upset after a neighbor gave her the scoop on Sam. Told her that he was setup and is being framed.

Damn the gossip in this town! Jacob roared. Why would she believe that load of crap? What does Jen know anyway?

Apparently, more than we think. She had been receiving letters from Darcy and she has her suspicions about you.

What do you mean? Why would she suspect me of anything? The self-righteous clergyman cleared his throat and tugged on the front-bottom edge of his jacket to eliminate its wrinkles. He regarded himself as refined and superior to most others.

Because she knows your vices and suspects your motive – your reason to hate the judge.

The priest scratched the bald spot at the top, rear of his head and accidently displaced his glasses. They began to fall but were caught on the precipice of his large nose where his nostrils flared.

She’s got nothing. No reason to suggest anything. Besides, his mind was racing, how do you know all of this?

She just called me, you big baboon! How do you think I know?! the local dignitary was becoming irritated. She called me early, just before I left for the office. She still trusts me, Karen paused, and wanted to tell me about her concerns.

I don’t believe it! Why would Darcy write to her? Darcy’s accident was nearly twenty years ago.

Well, maybe Jen just needed to blow off some steam… but I’m sick and tired of her whining. Karen Jackson brokered authority like Elizabeth, the Queen of England, and she felt only disgust for those who showed weakness. You didn’t exactly do right by the poor girl.

Yes, I did!

In your eyes, his sister replied. It would appear quite different to a woman’s point-of-view.

So what are you driving at? What are you trying to say in all of this jabbering?

No loose ends! she answered curtly with more volume to emphasize her demand. Get those damn letters!

And how do you suggest that I do that?

Send your man, your janitor. Isn’t he the one that does all your dirty work?

Jacob was silenced by the suggestion.

Isn’t he the one that helped set it up with that floozy?

Faith is Luke’s current girlfriend, the priest found his voice again. But hey, Urban is being charged, isn’t he?

Yes, of course, as I already told you, that is taken care of.

My sincere appreciation, Jacob replied, attempting to change the tone of the conversation. And thank you.

Don’t thank me. And remember, this conversation never happened. If you’re exposed, I’ll have nothing to do with your morbid affairs. All I can say is that I hope this will finally bring you some closure. You have been a mess.

What about the election? the priest sought reassurance hurriedly, as he sensed that the call was about to end abruptly.

We will have a write-in candidate, probably a local cop who is adored by the people in his precinct. Besides, she continued, it doesn’t matter once Urban is convicted.

No need to say more, Father Jacob felt gratified. And again, thanks.

The other end of the connection was already dead. He placed the cordless back on the table, lost in the plotting of revenge.

Karen Jackson pushed a stack of papers on her desk forward. In the midst of all the clutter jarred by that movement, her desk sign fell to the floor with a low thud. The middle-aged woman stood and yanked at the bottom of her jacket to straighten her business suit, one appropriate for a female competing in a man’s world. She pushed her long brown hair highlighted with blonde streaks away from her face and paused long enough to steady her balance. She was still an attractive woman and displayed much younger than her years. She had the curves that would catch a man’s eye and she knew how to use the bait. Sexual harassment was her specialty, always welcome, because she was proficient at winning the game. Members of the opposite sex were her pawns. As she bent over, her tight skirt crawled up her legs almost to her thigh. She retrieved the sign. It said, Karen Jackson, State Representative, 9th Legislative District.

The distinguished member of the House looked at the wall clock in her office. Time was sifting through her fingers, minutes wasted on Jacob and others, unaccounted for. She intended to command every second within her grasp. Her first appointment for the day, the Commissioner of the State Police, was due to arrive in twelve minutes. She had to compose herself and gather her thoughts.

Ms. Jackson had been hearing the police complain about Justice Urban, the magistrate commonly referred to as a judge, for many years. Sam was too lenient and often made the cops look like fools. Traffic arrests were frequently dismissed. Speeders weren’t prosecuted. Revenues were down. Their system of ticketing for the revenue generated by fines had become ineffective for municipal government.

Karen even received a call from the ranking member of the board that was appointed to oversee the state insurance department. The industry depended on convictions from traffic violations in order to charge their clients more. It was their gravy. They needed points against their drivers. The system had been established over many years of lobbying for legislation in their favor. It ran like a well-oiled machine until Urban came along, who became a clog in the gears.

Karen Jackson recalled the agenda of her last meeting with the Commissioner and the fine points they agreed upon. Urban would be arrested. Some of the best troopers would be briefed on how to establish a solid case as they investigated the complaint against him. Sam would be denied bail. As soon as possible, he would be brought before a judicial disciplinary board and the outcome would be easily predetermined: he would be removed from the bench. Of course, it would be her task to plan and oversee the kangaroo court, again wielding her strong arm of influence.

Now she had to be sure they weren’t overlooking anything. Were they controlling the press? Should she give an interview to reinforce their claims of a criminal offense? Who would be their candidate?

At her home on Church Street, Jen Foster, the sympathetic widow, was feeling uncertain after talking to her sister. More than that, she was a bit agitated with Karen who suggested that she was putting her nose in other peoples’ business.

Jen had always believed that Sam was innocent of the charges he faced as a result of the accident that killed Darcy. "Oh, poor Darcy, and her baby… but whatever happened to him?" she wondered. She finished her second cup of coffee and quickly rose from her laminate dining table. Enough thinking. She went to her bedroom closet to retrieve the letters. They were in a cardboard shoebox on the top shelf. Next, she went to the kitchen where she kept mail in a tray at the end of the countertop against the refrigerator. She found a large manila envelope there and peeled off the address label addressed to herself. She placed the letters inside and with a medium marker pen wrote Jodi’s name on the package. She remembered that Jodi, Sam’s unannounced fiancée, lived in the Heritage Complex on Spruce Street. She completed the mailer and immediately strode outside to her mailbox. She straddled a mud puddle formed by the mailman’s tire as she placed the package inside and raised the sender’s flag.

"There, it is done. They should know it all," she concluded, with reassurance for herself.

Walthem, Pennsylvania, had a population of 11,398 at the time of the last census, and in his small town, Samuel Urban was known as the people’s judge. A handmade plaque hung in his office to remind him daily of his purpose. It stated, Rule – with diligence. Show Mercy – with cheerfulness. The sign arrived unexpectedly in a padded envelope. There was no return address and no note to identify the sender. It seemed that someone was observing Sam, watching him very closely from a safe distance, anonymously. He and his office staff waited for the author of those words to identify him or herself. Eventually they lost track of the time that elapsed, but it was more than a year, the mystery remained, and soon enough, the need for the sender’s identity was forgotten.

Sam looked at those words frequently and reflected on them. His was a difficult job that needed political finesse. The system often required one thing while his heart urged him to do something else. This happened as he heard the plight of those who were downtrodden and most often already strapped financially. They couldn’t afford to pay another fine or lose time from work. Even worse would be the effect of a conviction on them.

This judge felt like he lived in the