Thou Shalt Not Kill: A Charlie Callahan Mystery

By Paul Copenhagen

No one enjoys their sins being brought into the light. But at one small church in a little Rhode Island town, it's become the topic of the weekly sermon. With each week that passes, new sins are brought to light. With each week that passes, death grows closer.

Between secrets and sermons, saints and sinners, can Charlie discove

• Language: English
• Publisher: Paul Aaron Copenhagen
• Release date: Sep 6, 2023
• ISBN: 9798986603650

Paul Copenhagen

Paul Copenhagen is a relatively quiet resident of rural Connecticut. When not working a day job, Paul enjoys quiet camping trips and time planning pixelated military campaigns on his computer, or rolling funny dice with his family.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

LOSING HIS JOB was bad enough. Losing it after solving a double homicide and helping the police arrest the right man was even worse. Trying to start over again in a brand-new career was even worse still. There were professional certifications to get, associations to join, education to obtain, equipment, branding; and all of that was before Charlie could get his first client or even call himself a detective.

The advantage, at least, was that there was only one person he had to convince about the whole endeavor: himself. Patience, his wife, was behind him one hundred percent, even when he was only maybe convinced about halfway, anyways.

Starting again was hard. He found a reputable course and threw himself into it. Much of the terminology was familiar. Even some of the laws and rules about surveillance were old hat to him since he’d worked on a number of insurance claims requiring surveillance, canvassing for witnesses, and scene investigations. He studied diligently. He asked questions. He learned. With his wife’s constant and encouraging support, he passed all his exams and began his business. A quick stop to a local printer and a lint roller to his best suit saw him going to the major insurance companies in the area, handing out his card, talking to claims VP’s and explaining his business model. He brought a wealth of experience, he said. He would work closely with claims professionals and in-house investigators. This was going to be his bread and butter. He knew he couldn’t hang out a shingle and wait for a phone call. He had to pound the pavement.

It wasn’t all murder investigations and statues from Malta, but it was steady work that paid well; and if he delivered the results he promised, he could easily get in the door with his lower price point to lure in the extra business. His gamble paid off. By December, Charlie was photographing people skiing down black diamond rated slopes who were otherwise claiming to be too injured to move, and reporting on people going to the gym and exercising after the New Year, starting on their resolutions, who were allegedly too injured to even stand up straight.

Of course there was the seedier side of his business as well. When he wasn’t sitting down with his camera and attachments (perhaps the biggest investment in his new business) to photograph fraudulent claims, he was using it to tail men and women who were suspected of infidelity. After all, he had to advertise to the general public as well, and take every dollar where he could find it. That meant accepting jobs from the public and family lawyers who sent him business to shore up divorce and custody suits.

He was fortunate, all in all, that his business took off when so many others failed. How many people got into a new business only to have it fold within the first six months? And yet his business turned a profit. Charlie was thankful he was able to celebrate Christmas with Patience and his parents in Upstate New York that year, enjoying a small vacation over the Christmas holiday. As the New Year rolled away, he took another small break, one he began to regret the minute Patience suggested it over the breakfast table.

Rhode Island? In January? Charlie moaned. Snow fell gently outside and Charlie clinked his fork against his plate with a heavy sigh.

Gail hasn’t seen us in a dog’s age, Charlie! And we were away for Christmas, so she wants to see us! Come on, it’s not like Rhode Island is somehow worse than Connecticut, Patience said.

Charlie continued to grumble.

What’s wrong? she asked.

I mean, if you want me to go to an ‘island’ at the end of January, you should preface that with the word Hawaiian, not Rhode, Charlie grumped.

Patience pursed her lips and stared at him for several long moments and rolled her eyes. With that little grump of his, she knew she’d won.

They were going to visit cousin Gail.

CHAPTER 2

CHARLIE DROVE ALONG the winding back routes. The spidery little back roads and byways and highways that were suited for the colonial horse and carriage proved more than a little difficult for most drivers and most vehicles. New Englanders came to rely on four and all-wheel drive vehicles like the SUV that Charlie drove, now that his company car had been taken. The roads were plowed and salted, but still black ice and slush and hard-packed snow made the roads treacherous. The speed limit sign of 25 miles per hour was not merely a suggestion in the middle of winter.

Rhode Island in January. Really? Charlie muttered.

Are you complaining again? Patience replied with a sharp edge to her voice.

Who me? Nooooo, Charlie said with a sigh as they wove around another bend. The suburban area gave way to a rolling white field and a squat little white farmhouse just on the outskirts.

We’re going to visit cousin Gail. She LIKES you Charlie! You know she does! Patience exclaimed with a pleading tone.

I know, I know, I just... By the end of January, I’m done with winter. You know that, Charlie moped.

I know. By the end of April you’re done with spring and the pollen. By the end of July you’re done with summer and heat. By the end of October you’re ready for fall to be over. You’re just one month permanently off kilter, Charlie, Patience said.

Yeah, every year. I know. It isn’t anything against Gail, you know that, Charlie said.

I know. We were just such good friends growing up, so it means a lot when she’s actually in town and wants to spend time with me, Patience said, and reached over to give Charlie’s hand a squeeze.

I know, I know, and with her crazy schedule, it’s rare, Charlie said. They’d had this very brief discussion before. Charlie had been hoping for a little break from the cold. He knew he wasn’t making money hand over fist, but a little driving trip to Florida or the Carolinas wasn’t too difficult to manage. It just hadn’t come to fruition.

But a week in sleepy Warren, Rhode Island? In January? It seemed like Charlie’s lot in life to suffer little indignities. Oh well, at least with the seaside, he could count on it being a little warmer, perhaps a little less snow than what he was getting back home in Connecticut.

They got out of the rural sticks, and the woods began closing in until the small state route brought them along the coast and they traveled parallel to the sea.

Gail lived in a very small, delightful merchant cape on the outskirts of Warren. Periwinkle blue with white shutters and trim, her home was quaint and picturesque. The snow wasn’t that deep, but it still covered her lawn. Charlie pulled the vehicle into the driveway. The front door was already open and Gail stood behind the protective shield of her storm door.

Getting out and grabbing all the bags to make sure they only had to make one trip, Charlie and Patience headed up the shoveled concrete path of her front walk.

Once they were ascending the steps slowly and carefully as proof against the ice, Gail pushed open the storm door. She wore fuzzy pajama pants of buffalo plaid and a hooded sweatshirt emblazoned with BROWN UNIVERSITY on the front.

COME IN! COME IN! GET OUT OF THE COLD FOR HEAVEN’S SAKES! Gail exuded comfort even as she bellowed the greeting.

Gail! Patience cried with merriment.

Oh Patience! I’ve missed you! Oh goodness! she fussed as Patience stepped inside, leaving Charlie on the top step.

Patience set down the bag she had brought in, slung the backpack off of her shoulder onto the tiled floor of the entryway, and wrapped Gail in a warm hug before she shifted off to the side and let Charlie in next.

Hi there Gail, Charlie said in a more subdued tone as he stepped in next and put down the two suitcases he carried.

Gail shut the storm door and then closed the front door to firmly shut out the chill that had entered the home and let the natural warmth flood back into the space.

Chaarrrrliiiiee! she oozed and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck in a big hug.

Charlie hugged her back. He was never upset about visiting Gail. She was, in a manner of speaking, his ‘kind of people’. Charlie liked to be comfortable. He liked to be of good cheer. He liked to be home for the most part. Gail was all of those things. Patience enjoyed the comforts of home as well, but Gail and Charlie shared an instinctual understanding of just how much a hot cup of tea or cocoa could mean on a blustery cold night with the wind whipping dervishes of snow outside your window. Gail and Charlie understood on a visceral level how the blazing sun of summer could be defeated by stepping into the chilly waters of the Atlantic and letting the salt stick to your skin.

Of all his in-laws, Charlie enjoyed spending time with Gail the most. It was probably for that reason he was so torn about the whole trip. While he wanted to escape the cold, he wouldn’t give up a moment of time with Gail if he could help it.

The embrace ended and Gail fussed a little over them, how happy she was to see them, how glad she was that they could spend the week with her, how terribly she missed them when she was gone to the Kalahari for Christmas. National Geographic wanted a spread on the Kalahari biome, so she and a biologist had gone out into the field capturing photos and data and writing up a whole article for the magazine.

Once she’d finished regaling them with the short version of her latest travels, she stepped back and shooed them up the stairs to get unpacked for the week and make themselves at home.

Charlie and Patience slipped off their shoes and headed up to the guest room at the top of the stairs just opposite Gail’s master bedroom. When the door shut, and they began to unpack their clothes, Charlie shook his head.

Cousin Gail hasn’t changed a bit, he observed.

Nope, not since her trips to the dark side of the moon and the Mongolian steppes and Xanadu when we were eight, Patience said.

Only now they’re very real places, Charlie replied.

Indeed. And I wouldn’t have her any other way, Patience said softly.

Neither would I, Charlie agreed.

CHAPTER 3

GAIL’S HOUSE WAS comfortable. The furniture was older, somewhat worn, but it spoke to comfort. It was all solidly built and good quality, no particle or cheap disposable construction; but each piece was at least a decade old. Gail had no reason to replace any of it. They were her old friends, the warm and welcoming accouterments of her home. With her job sending her one week to sub-Saharan Africa, the next to the Ganges River basin, and the next to the Isle of Wight, she loved coming home to her familiarity. The chaise lounge and sofa greeted her almost the moment she walked into the house. The lamps on the end tables cheerily illuminated the room on their timed lights, and Gail’s old television waited with its gloomy grey face to tell her all of the world’s woes that she’d missed out on while she was eating, laughing, talking, photographing, walking, and sleeping in countries that the dismal little box told her were unfit for human life or were enemies of her country and culture.

Charlie smiled as he stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked around the familiar sight. It was easy to think that Gail was perhaps old fashioned, or out of touch, or perhaps even a bit of a hippie; but all of those impressions from this little room would be blown away when she opened her mouth and spoke of the delightfully spiced Ethiopian Sambus she’d had on her last trip to Djibouti.

So Charlie, how’s it been for you? Gail asked as she walked into the living room, a small old metal tray in her hands. On the tray three steaming hot mugs of tea piped away and filled the air with the aroma of comfort as they surrounded a small plate of cookies.

Oh, you know, it’s been going, Charlie said, being a bit cagey.

Good. Now that we’ve got the polite answer out of the way, you can tell me how it’s REALLY going, Gail said with a chirp to her voice and a delighted smile. She was never one to mince words.

Ahh you know, it’s starting a new business. Trying to network and get new clients. It’s like I’m doing the same thing only a bit seedier with the divorce stuff, Charlie said with a glum little smile.

I can imagine. Is that a lot of your clientele? The divorce and family law stuff, that is? she asked.

For now, yeah. I need every dollar I can make, and if I can bug a hotel room or take a few pictures through a restaurant window, and make several hundred dollars, then I’ll take it. I don’t like it, of course, but I’ve gotta keep the roof over our heads until I can attract different business, Charlie said.

What kind of business do you want to attract? she asked.

I’m not sure, honestly. I mean it sounds silly, but I guess I dove into this with the hope that there would be more consulting work with the police, working to solve difficult crimes, cold cases, things like that. But apparently that’s become more and more difficult to break into, Charlie said.

I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. You’re at the top of your game. You’re young; and unlike the rest of your competition, you’ve got a crime under your belt that you’ve already solved, Gail pointed out as she set the tray down on an end table and reclined on the chaise lounge. Charlie sat on the couch. After she selected her mug, he picked up his.

I suppose, but mostly police don’t like meddling. I’m hoping that things will clear up a bit. Maybe I’ll be able to make a name for myself, make a few contacts and solve some cold cases for them. But I’m not sure Detective Goodwin is going to give me a glowing recommendation any time soon, Charlie said with a small smile.

Why-ever not? Gail asked with a frown before she took a sip of her tea.

"I’m not sure, it might just be me reading too much into it. Goodwin didn’t seem like he appreciated my help, though he did thank me. I just wouldn’t