The service ground on, but Helen barely took in the words. She had always quite enjoyed the high style of the Bible, she liked to let its ornate phraseology wash over her, but in terms of their content the words might as well have been in the original Greek. The lessons seemed to conjure up a world that was totally alien to her – an ordered, divine cosmos in which everything happened for a reason and in which Good would prevail. There was a level of reassurance in it that Helen could never swallow – the random madness and violence of her world seemed at odds with the cosy catch-alls of religion.
Still, she couldn’t deny that for many the church and its teachings were a comfort. That was very much in evidence now. At the front of the church, Eileen Matthews was surrounded by fellow worshippers, literally being held up by family and friends. The laying on of hands is meant to create a religious rapture in the receiver but also has the very practical purpose of keeping the weak and the vulnerable upright – and so it was proving now. As the chanting increased and the fervour grew, Eileen started to babble. Quietly at first, then louder, strange non-words flying out, her accent changing from south coast to something foreign. She sounded Middle Eastern, a touch Jewish perhaps and distinctly medieval – a torrent of guttural nonsense phrases flew from her mouth as the divine spirit entered her. Helen had seen speaking-in-tongues before on TV, but never in the flesh. It was odd to witness – it looked more like possession to her than rapture.
Eventually the frenzy subsided and the male members of the congregation guided her back to her seat, allowing Helen a chance to examine the female faces front on as they returned to their seats. She realized with a jolt that she was the only single woman there. Every other female present had a husband and every one of them seemed to be very much in his thrall. As the service came to an end, the congregation rose, dividing along gender lines. The men chatted confidently together as the women listened. Alan Matthews, in addition to being an elder of the church, was a member of Christian Domestic Order, a group which promoted the patriarchy of the Bible, upholding the husband as leader in all things and condemning wives to the role of helpmeet. Women were subservient in every way and spanking was advised if they failed to live up to their duties. Eileen Matthews had probably suffered chastisement at the hands of her husband, who clearly loved to dominate women, and Helen suspected the other women in this congregation had too. The fact that many of them probably did so willingly didn’t help in Helen’s eyes. Looking around the church now Helen saw passive, inert women who lacked the confidence or bravery to do anything for themselves. Unless one amongst their number was a phenomenal actress, there was no one here who would have the gumption, determination and balls to perpetrate this terrible string of murders. Was the killer elsewhere then, watching from the shadows? Slipping out of her seat, Helen walked quickly round the perimeter, eyes scanning this way and that for possible concealed vantage points, but she found nothing.
