The Devil who was hanged.

He was born in the steel milling city of fame called Solengen a middle ages sword masters work shop place in Westphalia,  North Rhineland, Germany; into a middle  class family of hard working business people.  His birth date is 19th  March 1906 as karl Adolf Eichmann.

He was just a child when his mother died and at school was mocked as the tiny Jew. He had swarthy looks and only a small boy who would grow into the Devils own disciple in an age to come. index

He left school to go into sales after working with his father as a milling engineer he wanted more, far more from life than that. He later found himself in an American oil sales unit in Europe.  In 1932 he joined the  expanding Austrian Nazi party and rose bit by bit into the man who had studied well the Jewish ways and could by now speak some Hebrew yiddesh. Filing clerk was his first job under Hitler. In this role as war broke out he studied Jews as fascination until the plan came into his mind to sort out the full movement of Jews out of Europe to Madagascar in the Indian ocean.

In 1938 he had tried to put this plan to the Arabs in Palestine but was caught in the act by British spies and ordered to leave the county. if only he had been arrested all of this may not have happened for Adolf Eichmann was the architect of the death camps.

As Hitler saw a great mind in this new boy Eichmann was soon to rise into the SS ranks as head of 1v B4 units in full control of the newly provided death camps.

in 1944 he was in Hungary at Auchwitz working on the Nazi so called final Solution program . This was to rid all Europe of the Jew. In same year Eichmann was to report to Himmler as his boast was he had murdered 5 million Jews and was about to march 50,000  more into death camps as best way is to starve them to death and let disease finish the rest.

Himmler told him to stop,  but Eichmann had started and so 50000 people went on the death march from Hungary in winter cold as ice in bare feet and thin clothing on to Austria over that mountains in terror ,hungered and ill; few made it all the way with thousands of dead bodies in the snow.   It chills me even to write this.


He now turned on to 4 million Jews left in all camps to exterminate but the war had come to an end in victory for Britain and her allies. Eichmann vanished but was captured by the Americans . Eichmann was not known as yet so his guard was lax and Eichmann escaped .He worked on rabbit farms and such but he had friends in the Vatican in Rome who remarkably helped him reach Argentina . He was a man who was now well know for his crimes. News carried the voices of the dead he had killed into peoples minds . The Diary of Anne Frank nailed Eichmann as a name to fear.

He must have watched his back but had said many times.” I will leap into my grave laughing because of the feeling of that I have 5 million people on my mind is for me a source of extreme satisfaction ”

Unbelievable that any human could think like that or wish it on himself in death. He had no God but will know for certain the fires of  Hades for eternity as his crimes are unforgivable.

In a concrete box made into a house he with a woman and a job in local factory of Mercedes car making traveled each day on the bus at same time  each day. Back and forth for years but in time the Jews who had survived the ordeal  built a Nazi catching police unit and Eichmann had been found. By stealth alone they hired cars and set a plan to take him by night from the bus home to a car waiting .Plates changed out to the waiting plane . They first had to identify it was he. This took some time as the SS tattoo had been burned off with the number too but Eichmann had slipped up in fast interview gave his SS number as another name not his for a soldier his number is foremost in his mind forever. So the SS number was that of Eichmann.

He was tried  back in Jerusalem and unrepentant hanged in Tel- Aviv 1st of June 1962. His body cremated and his ashes dumped from a swill bucket into the sea well off the coast of Palestine. For me a school boy in England could not understand why the Vatican was part of it. Then over the years since have come to see the evil of that same institution who dared to pay Spain to attack England to make our dear Queen a slave of the pope that Bishop of Rome who hated Britain for loss of funds paid to Rome added into billions  even then in 1540.

Eichmann was the Devils own Disciple and true follower of his own mind and thoughts like Hitler who had endorsed him and knew what would be the fate of millions in death camps all over Europe.


Was it a war of pure greed or was it a war that produced more the hand of real evil from the many who flocked around Hitler all the same evil mixture as each other. Hitler and perhaps Eichmann too of Jewish extract makes it even more sinister in truth. The fact that Hitler married a Jew makes it even more amazing. Only they knew why it was brought about as no human being could ever condone it. A mass murder of around 8 million Jewish people in our times, horrific.

To look at him at trial, a frail dwarf of a man, one would not suspect he could be so evil but he was.



imagesMaybe here the real sick smile of a true villain can be see as sentence of death is passed by court on him.


I wish you all my best and thank you for your time to give me. Yours Sir Kevin.

Copyright Kevin Parr Bt. 2020.

The burning building case.

Long ago in deepest darkest Oxford a young man leaves university life to join a Vicars sub division selling arms to anyone who paid well. His name was Roger Morrison Sellwood and this is his story. It is a tale of greed, dishonour , and, perhaps pay back.

This case takes us far from our shores into Ukraine in May month 1952.

Winning an order for six armour plated tanks and over 200 new Gpmg machine guns from the Russian unmarked soldiers he saw the massacre of many poor peasant farmers wives and children.Yet after the initial shock and having been treated well by a General from Moscow in soviet dress who signed the form for order, he said nothing but thank you. Over the next 10 year Sellwood sold thousands on arms to Russia in all parts of the world . Back in 1956 Sellwood alone made his company more cash than ever seen before from the Soviet Russian envolament  in the Hungarian revolution . Thousands of civilians died alongside soldiers in this horrific war .Then Sellwood saw it as his best wages ever.


In Serbia in 1970s he made millions in commission  pay with full order books for his employers. Many dead he stepped over to reach his target of arms sales.

Back home for Christmas 1958 he meets miss Cora Harvey, working a Lyons corner house in Trafalgar Square London. She was serving at table cakes to the middle class ladies. It for him was love at sight. Over the next two years of courtship he buys a house just outside of the city of Oxford. Foxholes became their home as man and wife. Little Henry was born in 1963  and his life as father could not have been better. Cora was a good girl good wife and mother but not an educated mind. She did ask what Sellwood did for a living once but was told Government oversea agent. No more.

He was in fact gone for weeks at a time but she trusted him and was proved to be right as far as faithful duties.She wanted for nothing and so when Sellwood packed to fly to Middle East she first noticed the pistol in the side wall of the half packed case.


That evening ,after her husband Roger had left she first saw the line on ghosts coming down the main stairs towards her just faces in a sheet of mist. faces with open wide mouths and silent screams. She was found by the childs nurse flat out cold across the hall floor less than half hour later.

Roger returned and she told him her plight . He laughed loudly ,Ghosts do you no harm they cant, their dead. From than on her visions became regular and in different forms.Then in a dream like trance her young six year old son Henry fell to his death falling down the stairs. Roger never got over his loss and his wife was taken off to hospital having tried suicide. In the passing months Roger was shot dead in Serbia and his great house far back in England caught fire and burned to the ground. Her body was searched for for days but no human remains were found by police teams. Firemen and Insurance agents. Mrs Cora Sellwood had vanished. She has never been seen since.


Make what you may from that, but this case is closed.

Hope you enjoyed this fictional tale Sir Kevin says thank you for reading it.


Copyright Kevin Parr Bt Jan 2020

The last farewell.

The morning started much as ever in the live of Mary Gifford. She had kissed her husband Tom and left for work with her camera bag soon after. For Mary was a photographer for international news.  Working close with police. While Tom Gifford was an advertising agent in busy Fleet Street London England.

Life for the newly married pair had taken much planing but now happy with life in harness both had their jobs to go to and meet up at night at home for dinner. It was a good relationship as it had been so decided at the off that nothing would be held back by either and no secrets either hidden by either side.

Tom was working on a big promotion when he met David in the office of his employer. David had sought Tom out and the two became friends. David had just arrived in the cafe with Tom for coffee. The talk turned to women. David said he had lost the love of his life and she he hoped was happy. He had called her a pet name of Bundles. Tom listened to all David said before he spoke of Mary his wife and was surprised at Davids interest.

Time went by and he was ready to leave for work pressed Tom but David remained. As he left Tom saw all at tables smiling at him and so waved at then who now scowled. Confused he returned to his desk.


The evening he told Mary of his chance meeting with David and Mary smiled as she was happy Tom had a friend at work. Dinner over they sat resting and then Tom told her that David had a strange pet name for his ex girlfriend of Bundles. To this Mary gasped. She soon took control and listened to all Tom had said and what this David had said. Over and over again until Tom was tired with it. Mary then changed the subject to holidays.

Tom had said that he was going to meet David next coffee break in the cafe on Lyons corner. That day Mary too made time to be there. Tom sat talking to himself and looking at an empty chair. To the amusement of all in the cafe. Mary felt ill just watching the performance. She had to be sure. Camera set she took a photo and left hurriedly.

Tom was back home now and upset as people had been so nasty to him saying he needed help. Help quite what for, he had no idea.


That evening Mary brought the conversation around to David. Tom told her that David was to travel away on business finished here. He was sorry for that but he said that David was happy that all was well with my marriage and left me in the cafe to finish my coffee. He did not think he would see David for a while.

Mary took out a photograph of her dead lover and Tom said yes that is David .She then showed him himself talking to an empty chair and Tom slowly came to see what had happened. David was the ghost checking that Mary was alright.

Living down his talk to a chair he avoided that cafe and worked harder to forget and be useful so none would bring the subject up.

Mary was happier than ever and made her husband happy with their life as one with a boy child soon after. David never returned but having left her diary on her bedside table Tom saw her last remark and smiled.


David, rest easy old friend.No worries do not fear.   Words from her diary .

The day of destiny

“Hello, is that Carling Cabs.I wish to order a taxi now. ”

The callers last words. Not a trace of her in the flat in Londons best corner. The facts do not add up for police nor for private detective Alan Bale.

The door is open the house in darkness Bale has been called by a client to this address. Inside are but empty rooms and in the last place he looks ,the bedroom a coffin lays where once the bed was set. He feels stunned as he sees the lid slowly lifting and suddenly he falls to the floor in shock as  a white faced girl takes his hand.

“What the hell is going on.” declares the police inspector.

” No idea sir , nothing here but dust. ”

“This is the house Bale told me he was in last night to see a client. He came alone. ”

“If he did sir we have no way of knowing as no foot marks  in the dust so he cannot have entered inside .Then that door is heavy and locked. We had to fetch the locksmith to open it. ”

” Bale is missing. Put out his description and close this place up .It is chilling me out lad. ”

” Yes Sir it is colder in here than expected for time of year.”

The police are gone Bale is sat in front of tall man who insists he needs help.

“Who are you, as that girl looked very dead? ”

” Not at all mister Bale, Amanda is alive and well. Ill call her she is awake. ”

‘You need not bother. Seen enough to know something here is wrong”

‘Wrong. Come now sir .We are two adults what can be wrong. I want you to find a man who is hiding from me in this city. Nothing else.”

” His name?”

“First my situation. Call me as soon as found. I am at work after dark only. ?”

” Why?”

“Why call me or why work only at night? Time to answer both questions. But first your solemn promise you will tell no one of this meeting. ”

“Another question in the riddle. I am finding you vague and if no details will you give me, ill walk away mister Black.”

” This is my ward Amanda .You meet last evening. See she is well and as lovely as ever. ”

” Why sleep in a box then?”

‘My ward is an actress and studying her new role for some film or other. Come; answers now. You see mister Bale .This man is in need of my help. He is a drug addict and left my surgery un attended.”

” You are a doctor?”

“Oh! far more than that Bale. I am a healer of lifes pains. But we move on. Yes the man is called John Little aged about 21. He is of good family in the city and came to me for help with addictions. Amanda here gave him rest and I was called away with another matter. He was gone on my return. I have not helped him at all.”

“I see. Then the next question?”

‘” On your insistence. I work at night owing to my eyes unable to suffer strong light. ”

” So wear sun glasses by medical needs.”

” You have sensed something have you not Bale. I see it in your eyes as of just now.”

“You mean am I speaking with a Vampire ,then yes ,I am. So help me God no reflection of Amanda in that mirror is a good clue would you not think so -Mister Black?”

” Then I need not bore you further Mister Bale.”

Suddenly Bale was in an empty room again. So strange with such speed it vanished and he stood alone in the dark save for the city lights in the window as he pulled the heavy curtains back filled the room with light. It was daylight already.

His mind as strong as ever just his legs so weak he made his way back to the street and behind him the door slammed shut. He was alone and now the impulse to run for his very life. His interview with death a thing to forget, if only that was possible.

the vampire in the hood with glowing eyes in the forest

The body of a young medical student was hauled out of the Thames at Mortlake six days latter by police. The dead male drained of blood was named  by police as  John Andrew Littlejohn. A 21 year old student of law.

In his memoirs Detective Alan Bale left us just one clue as  to who this mister Black really was. He is mentioned in the bible it claims. To us his number is 666.

How he had been spared he just had no idea of. ” May be”, Said the priest at his funeral ,” This man was loved by God.” For the police it was just another day of London life. For many like them nothing so sinister will ever befall them and so many many will never believe that we are never alone.


Let me now thank all my readers for loyalty shown and God be with you all.

Sir Kevin.

copyright Kevin Parr Bt 2020


The Lady called. short story

It was April 1902. London was full of travelers and the warm sun had brought out many pale people to revel in the glory of that day. None as pale as the body on the Coroners slab.

” My verdict is drained of all blood and liquid. Dry as the bones inside him. ” Barked the man who knew the dead so well.

‘So, murdered was he Jacob.? ”

‘ Unless he drained himself,Id say yes. Over to you now Inspector .”

The body belonged to one Phillip Pardo a doctor in Sherpards Bush area of that said city.

Three days later a body came to light in the Thames river . Drained of blood stabbed in the heart .In the water just 2 hours. Found by a boatman who hit it with his oar.

Over six weeks 3 more copses were found by police .The last one, Mister James King a silversmith in Oxford Street aged just 34.

“Right ,we know two bodies found in that house so as it backs on to the river one must say that it is the certain place to start today .”

The sixteen policemen saw that Inspector Carl Davies meant every word. Suddenly the station was empty of voices. The Coroner sat down next to Davies.

‘A rare do this then. Seems to me its someone who sells blood to hospitals.”

‘Checked all last week. Not one without an alibi. Could it it be more than one person.A gang .Such as that case I did years ago. ”

‘You mean the Gitting case . Oh! not as cruel .Didnt she boil them alive?” Gasped the Coroner.

‘Sickened me. Case I will not forget. Poor sods, just kids. Mental; she was the Devil they called her.Dead and burned these many years.”

Over at number 134 Cherry lane the house empty save for a mirror more suited in a dress shop reflected the light into the eyes of the incomers. After a search lasting four hours only the fact that the back door led through a small yard onto the river. It was clear that at least one body was set into the water there.  His wallet was  found flung into the coal heap onside the small  brick shed. Not only that but the small foot imprint of a womans foot in the coal dust. A cast in plaster of Paris was made and all returned to the police station to write  all up as record.

‘ So mister Pardo was just leaving work after being paid a wage. Yet nothing was stolen from his slip is right for the amount in his wallet.”Said the Inspector.

Time was not on police side as the top lot wanted results and newspapers told of incompetence on police part.

All connected with Cherry Lane had been rounded up and one by one released that is until Davies came to an elderly woman who interested him so much. The lady was Italian around 60 with lively blue eyes that fixed him to the chair. She gave her name as Mrs Silvia De Natas  and left the Inspector powerless to speak for some minutes afterwards.

‘ I feel rather silly but that woman is not right. “declared Davies and all looked up.

‘ We saw her this morning but she was ill she told us .We thought her over 80. ” Cried the second officer. Nodding of heads in agreement gave birth to the Inspector sorting her name out in his head.

“Silvia, De Natas is Satan backwards. what the hells going on. Harding go and fetch her back she cant have gone far.

Davies waited until way after dark but PC Harding did not return. Next morning his lifeless remains lay on the Coroners table drained on blood, whiter than snow, his face and hands.

‘My God Jacob”  ,cried the Inspector taking off his hat and coat.

“Yes you may say that. Poor young fellow was found slumped over a barrel of best bitter beer outside of the Bird in Hand Arms public house at 5am this morning. Still in uniform.

“Right all you lot, armed .Come with me and find that old woman for somehow she is wrapped up in this. ”

A thin blue line of men marched across the city and into that house in Cherry lane. Deserted but on the floor near the cellar door lay a policemans wooden batton.  On closer inspection his note book in the dust. No sign of a struggle and not a drop of blood to be found.

‘Find that old maid she is around here someplace. For hours they torn the place apart then behind a wall of sliding panels they found a young lady naked in a bath of what looked like milk in a bathroom of marble pillars. Out came Davies pistol but she stood up naked and asked for a towel. As beautiful as anyone had seen she smiled. ‘So why are you all here in my house?’ Her lips just pouting.

‘ And who are you pray tell?: demanded Davies.

She sat down half covered transfixing the eyes of policeman. Davies not so taken in. He saw her blue eyes and felt them hold him but could not as he was so aware.


“I tell you that I know you now. Years ago in Italy a beauty called Bedricca Rappuceni attracted victims into her fathers gardens .A walled affair indeed. Her father took their souls in order that he could be young for ever. ”

“It is but a story dear Inspector. ” she was playing with his mind and he knew it .His eyes looking at the fireplace not at her.

“Do you kill the innocent to be young. If souls are your thing Satan why drain them of blood. ”

” So maybe you think you have found me out. Pray sit down with me”

‘Oh! not likely. Only that you are not her daughter you are she whom I interviewed yesterday who looked 60. My men told me when they saw you 80 was their guess. Rejuvenate each killing do you. 18 now at most today”

He turned back to her to an empty chair and a towel on the floor. Not one policeman took their eyes off her but she had gone from the room in full view not seen.


The case was never written down nor did they ever see this woman ever again but in his mind Davies knew her real name was -death . It was not his time to go. No more this story tells. Other than that Davies died a natural death in 1927 but his son knew that death had entered his fathers  room. The fear on the old mans face told him she was there with them.

Short story again. Sir Kevin says thank you for bothering to read it.

Copyright 2019 Kevin Parr Bt


Deserted. short story

Cold black the night.Curtains ,shutters all shut tight as the watch man goes by as curfew is called. The hour of 9 stokes at night deep winter the visitor who will stay over unwanted by human need. The bell clanging in the north wind blasts the town streets empty as the watchman walks the dutiful strides around he becomes aware of the lady in the narrows between the castle wall and row of dwellings. He calls out his Curfew hour loud and clear but the form remains facing him as his steps approach  the form remains.

The night is silent but as day break appears over the castle turrets the watchman is found mumbling and gibbering about nothing anyone could deal with. He was unable to stand his breath not drunkard nor any evidence that he had had a drop of drink in him. The man a time honoured servant of the Governors watch. He was taken off to the doctors office and all ran back to normal day work. In fact no one felt the need even to know what had transpired as all too busy with life in general to bother of anothers needs.


It was later in the day that Doctor Alberto Demarco sat with his sleeping watchman after drugging him out of crazy nonsense at last. He was puzzled as to two things his patient had let out. The woman in white and the place that the watchman said he came by her.

The night was fast coming in but he knew this watch must be taken by another. He left the mam sleeping and went to alert that town guard. On his way back his mind turned to the alleyway down the cobbled street towards the gates to the postern end of town. He paced slowly down to the narrow between the garderobe tower and the row of servants cottages on the town wall. For some time he examined the walls. Stone after stone but no hidden walkways or escapes did he locate. But as he turned about there to his face she stood. . He shocked and terrified of the closeness of her eyes to his fell backwards in swoon . The second watchman raised his burning torch over him. He was quite dead. The scare had caused his heart to stop.  Just who she was had not been thought of.

Years went by the events forgotten but for one retied old town watchman he knew why and who she was. It seems many years before a man had left his wife with child and returned to the army until as his duty had been as doctor to the regiment. War with Padua had taken his unit over the lines where he had been captured. For some year and a week the doctor had been forced to deal with the enemy injured.  One moonless night he managed to spook the horses and so vanish down the hill to safety.

He however did not return to his girlfriend and was offered a job near Rome where he married a butchers daughter called  Julia. His life took him to  a new house and his own practice in the town of  Grossetto near the coast.

We go back in time to a lonely pregnant woman and her fate as unmarried mother taken in by the Church. Her baby girl christened Sofia taken for adoption but sold by the nuns to an Arab trader. The mother put to work in laundry washing blankets and cloth all day every day slipping on soapy floors between each tank of hot water .Ankles burned by flames from under the tanks that fired the water to near scalding hot. Red and shrilled her fingers and after six years of hard labour in order to pay for her keep she perished and died aged 23.

We move now to the child. Traded aged 7 to a Persian silk trader she traveled the old silk roads on camel trains helping the traders family as slave. This led to her visiting England in 1837 and London gave her all the chances to break away and hide as a prostitute by night a silk dealer by day after stealing the cloth from traders without them knowing. She had watched and taken note of how measurements can increase or decrease depending on buying or selling . Her time in a Traders train had given her an edge in business. In London city fine Chinese silks had a market among the well to do titled women and men that peacock walked, avoiding puddles and lakes of mud, from one theater or knocking shop to another. In this trade she prospered. Then caught read handed thieving silk she was hanged in the city stock yard after being so judged in court.Her body buried in Saint Clements fields and that would have been the end of my tale , if not for the silk road.

Our girl had in her mouth a coin between her teeth and had been taken down by her lover pimp half dead. The coffin filled with builders bricks and she brought around by nursing went on to leave the city and take ship with her savings as a Lady in silks and Satins. The Captain took her on board and they sailed to Italy her birth place. Over ten years she discovered what had happened to her mother and swore vengeance on her father who had a deserter had caused all her sorrow for now she was suffering venereal diseases from past clients. She knew she had but little time so went her way to find the man she blamed. For two years she went from town to town but no one had heard of a doctor called Peri his real name. Then one day in the hot sunshine she had a fall over a stone in the cobbled street of the same town that Doctor Alberto and his family lived. She was taken into his surgery and given a daft to sleep then her ankle pulled back into joint.


He had no idea who she was but he was amazed and told her he had loved a girl once in his youth that looked so much like her, that moment started her investigation.  She paid his bill and left . Over the next week or so she pieced it all together whilst watching him from her rented room window. She watch his wife and children, now grown, visit them. They had what her mother had wished for with him. But then her plotting and anguish caught up with her. Heart broken but  before she died  swore to avenge her mother in front of the nurse and her husband,  the town watchman.


This concludes my investigation but there is often no smoke with out fire,  is there?

copyright Kevin Parr Bt 2020

The record found.

The summer winds blew into the the old crowded room of books, that in the care  of one Domingo Tremarco, monk of Padua, felt soft on his brow.

The great work had absorbed him since the suggestion of Pope Julius  had moved the cleric to sort out his library. This Pope was known for his lazy rich life  and his  ways of idle hours. It was June 1549 and the old monk had almost completed his task.  Six more books and all would be indexed ready for the Popes inspection. Proud of this more so than pleasing anyone it felt good in this mans most tidy of minds.

Six books and the last one fell open to a page recorded on punishment. It caught easily the eye of the monk. The date he knew as his own birthday but the year two years prior. Somehow he just had to read it. Open fully on the desk top the monk, head down, grew pale. The great arched roof lights blackened now by nights dead shades. Did this account carry truth? He read on head bent and alone.


For some silent time had passed before Domingo sat up with wider eyes and sorrow. The tallow candles almost at end of burn. Flickering in and out  but his mind was far from the light. For now he knew the fate of one Thomaso Parisi monk and cleric in this same library. Once,long ago this man had fallen for the love of one Contessa De Gordino the young daughter of the Popes cousin Duke of  Lombardi. Banker to the Vatican.  His love became known as she too loved he and so as of old the Pope came to know.

For the girl she was hurriedly married to a noble twice her age and who cruelly mastered her every move.  Domingo now knew what had occurred  and the fate recorded he read with grief. This Pope had had Thomaso walled up in the cellars below the library a room no bigger than a coffin in measure . No more was told by the script who wrote this as fact as recorder.

The old monk was now alert to the ways of this old Pope as mad without mercy. The candles replaced he went on. What could he do that would not endanger himself against the most powerful man in this world who claimed to be the voice of Gods wishes.  Silently he filed the last books but undid the index of that last book to hide it well in ranks below shelf. He alone knowing of this new index. With noting left to complete he asked to be returned to his duties as monk.  This was swiftly granted and no more would have been brought to light if not for fate.

Not happy just to drop his knowledge in the deep well of fact that was his mind. He found time to search the cellars below his last work place .Over three months he found the place and had kept it safe until time allowed him to think. In time the chance came to remodel the cellars to house more books of Vatican records. To his amazement he was voted into the job of caretaker recorder.


Slowly with a  metal  fork from the refectory  table  he scratched away around the stone blocks until at length he was able to remove just one stone block. With burning flame from waxen torch Domingo was able to detect a human hand in claw like bones. Hurriedly now he effected his wish to see the skeleton that some 60 years had lain unseen or detected in the silence of a library.

When the builders arrived all had been set back in place and the bones hidden from sight. The builders set about making a room with windows at the rear across the Popes gardens. The wall was not under ground as all other walls were. Once achieved the shelving went up at speed.

It gave Domingo just four days to bury with sanctity the remains of the sad monk who had tried so hard to dig himself free his fingers clawed but had clearly starved to death.

All then was over and he prayed for the soul of his former job holder.  All was moving towards the death of this Pope and all devotion to his soul was demanded. Domingo fained illness and remained out of it.


He from his desk looked across the gardens and there  was the sight of a man in habit hold the lovely maiden close. His sinews stiffened, his voice a breaking scream like gasp. For he knew now what was true and mercy had been granted as all vapor fell to the earth below their feet. The vision melted away before his eyes. A mere vapor hung like silk in the breeze and vanished.


He gasped and his fingers touched the cross that hung around his neck. He lifted it slowly to his lips to kiss it when the news that the Pope was dead was being announced.  The Monk knew God was at his side as the guilty would be punished he had no more to do but keep books as they should be kept. One more look to see the garden .It was all as it should be and peace had reached his mind. What will be will be, he thought. He walked into history un noticed un aware of  but the Pope will be forever known. What sins on earth one commits will be recorded for judgement they say and i do so believe that of all of life is but a test. We see it as distance but it is but a flash in time we have to prove who we really are and find what is lost to us namely God. That is the test that is meant in recorded scripture. Who ever wrote it did meet God in person without doubt. I know this now.


End of story. Yours always Sir Kevin.

Copyright Kevin Parr Bt 2019.