Ghost Writer - Pandora Pine Page 0,75
When his wife, Cordelia, found out, she raced to church and told her priest.”
“Let me guess, Radcliffe Musgrave?” Cope felt nauseous just saying the name out loud.
“He had just graduated from the seminary and Saint Bernadette’s was his first parish. From what I understand, going into the priesthood was not Musgrave’s first choice of career. It had been forced upon him by his family, who owed a rather large debt to their own parish. Musgrave figured he would pick up where the priest back at his home church had left off. He was going to make the people of Salem pay dearly for their sins.”
“What do you mean that he made them pay? Financially? Or with other sorts of favors?” Cope could think of many ways the wrong sort of priest could make his parishioners pay.
“It started out with simple bribes, blackmail I suppose you would call it. Over time, he realized the power in the secrets that were told to him in the confessional. He used those confidences to put his own diabolical plans into action. He hated witches, of course, as any good Catholic priest would. When it was discovered there were women practicing the craft, he was able to get to them, and inflict pain on them, as a payment for their sins.”
“In the church? How the hell was he able to get away with torturing women in the church?” Cope could hear the anger bubbling beneath the surface of Jude’s voice. There was nothing his husband hated more than men who took advantage of, and hurt, women.
“None of his atrocities took place in the church or on church grounds. That was where the town’s secrets came in handy. Reginald Bowden was a prominent shipping merchant. He was also a famous philanderer and Musgrave knew it. In order to pay off his debt and receive grace, all Musgrave required in return was the use of Bowden’s garden house. Not only did he use the house to physically punish the women accused of witchcraft, he also raped them. The women were told the only way to earn a spot in heaven was through penance. He, of course, would offer forgiveness when he grew tired of them.”
Cope felt himself sag backward against Jude. He didn’t think he had the strength to hear the rest of the story. “Were there babies?”
“Not the way Musgrave raped them.” Brooks’ silence spoke volumes.
Dawning came immediately to Cope. The priest was sodomizing these women to make them pay for their so-called sins.
“What sort of penance did he give Nathaniel Beecher?” Jude wrapped an arm around Cope from behind.
“He requested space in the servants’ quarters for what he considered Godly work.” Brooks’ eyes grew misty. “He wanted a schoolroom built. It looked innocent enough the first time I saw it. The room reminded me of my high school English class, only the students all looked terrified to be there.”
“Who were the students?” Cope had a feeling he already knew the answer to that question.
“People who were queer like me, or people who were believed to be suffering the demon of homosexuality.” Brooks gave his head a nearly imperceptible shake. “Not all of them were, but Musgrave didn’t let that stop him.”
“What were the lessons?” Jude asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“We certainly weren’t being taught how to read or solve math problems. We were forced to confess our wicked deeds. If we didn’t, we were punished. Musgrave believed that we could not rid ourselves of the demon if we did not confess all our misdeeds.”
“Were you a prisoner there?”
“No, not at first,” Brooks admitted.
“What do you mean not at first?” Cope didn’t like the sound of this at all. A Catholic priest with unlimited power over his congregation sounded downright terrifying. If the other members of the clergy knew what Musgrave was doing, it didn’t seem they tried to stop him, unless Musgrave had something on them too.
“We only became prisoners when Musgrave thought we weren’t making enough progress. That was when the real torture started.” Brooks looked worn out telling the story.
“I’m so sorry, Brooks.” Cope felt his emotions ready to shatter. “Musgrave was trying to correct the fact that you all were gay?”
Brooks huffed a bitter laugh. “I don’t honestly think Musgrave cared that any of us were gay or assumed to be. He was a sadist who enjoyed inflicting pain upon people he perceived as weaker than himself. He enjoyed beating us. And later, he enjoyed…”
It was on the tip of