Chapter 12: Man of God

The evening sun cast long shadows over the church as Pranav and Thameem drove back to the scene. Pranav explained the complete conversion with Prince and explained thameem about his instincts. Their minds were racing, connecting the dots that led them to one inevitable conclusion: Father Russow, the seemingly gentle priest, was hiding unspeakable horrors behind his sacred façade.

As they approached the church, The white van, the Van that has witnessed the last moments of two souls, Pranav's mind raced through the other evidences, the limp shoes's, the strangled chains, the leaf with blood, the t-shirts with blood stains, the plastic cover with blood stains and a lot more. Pranav couldn’t shake the feeling of something profoundly dark brewing behind those stone walls. This case had taken them down a path more twisted than they had ever imagined, and it was time to confront the truth.

“Are you ready for this, Thameem?” Pranav asked, parking the car near the gate.

“Absolutely, sir,” Thameem replied, eyes focused, the weight of the situation bearing down on them both.

The heavy air inside the church office felt suffocating. The sunlight barely filtered through the stained glass windows, casting ominous shadows on the faces of Pranav and Thameem. Father Russow sat across from them, hands folded on the table, calm and composed, with a hollow serenity that unnerved the two inspectors. The weight of their discovery hung in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

“Father,” Pranav began, keeping his voice steady, “we’ve been piecing together the story. We have questions about the nights of Anjali and Julia’s murders.”

Father Russow blinked, his pale blue eyes shifting between the two officers. “I’ve told you before, Inspector. I was here, in this very place, with my children.”

Pranav leaned forward, not buying the priest’s calm demeanor. “Yes, you were here. But that’s not the full story, is it?”

Thameem, standing beside Pranav, broke his silence. “Father, we’ve already found something in Richard’s shoes—the insole, something only worn by those with physical disabilities.”

Father Russow remained motionless, but Pranav noticed the slight twitch in his jaw.

“And,” Pranav continued, his eyes narrowing, “we’ve confirmed your blood type through your students registers, you forgot the first page was about your details but anyways which, it matches the blood found on the leaf, plastic cover and the chain found at the garbage dump alongside Julia's body.”

There was no visible reaction, but the priest’s hands tightened ever so slightly. Pranav took a step closer.

“We know it wasn’t Richard, Father. How could he possibly drive, abduct, molest and kill the girls with both mental and physical condition?"

What do you mean Officer?

Pranav Continued, "And we know it wasn’t the chain Mr. Vargees gave her. It was Anjali’s own chain, the one she wore daily, that you used to strangle her. You killed her, didn’t you?”

Silence. The priest stared out of the window, not acknowledging the accusations. But the room felt colder, darker, like the air itself had thickened with the weight of hidden truths.

Thameem leaned in, his voice laced with controlled anger. “You abused your position of power, didn’t you? You used the trust people placed in you, and when Anjali resisted your advances, you strangled her with her own chain.”

Father Russow finally spoke, his voice low and distant. “That’s quite the assumption, Inspector.”

Pranav slammed his hand on the desk, his patience wearing thin. “Enough with the games, Father! We know you’re involved. The blood, the shoes, the withdrawn complaints—everything points back to you!”

Still, the priest remained silent, eyes distant, like he wasn’t fully there. Thameem, frustrated, grabbed the old wooden chair beside him and pulled it closer to the priest. He sat down, staring directly into the Father’s soul.

“I’ve seen monsters like you before,” Thameem whispered. “You hide behind your robes, your crosses, your sermons, but deep inside, you’re just a coward. You prey on the weak, and when they fight back, you kill them. Isn’t that right? You used your own son’s shoes to throw us off. You didn’t care about him, did you? You wanted the blame to fall on Richard.”

For the first time, a flicker of something passed across Father Russow’s face. A crack in the cold exterior.

Pranav pressed further, voice hard as stone. “You used Richard as a shield, knowing his disabilities would make him the perfect scapegoat. But here’s where you slipped up, Father.” He pulled out a photograph of Julia’s body, the chain wound around her neck. “Julia—she fought back. She pulled the chain off, didn’t she? That’s why we found her chain separately from her body. She resisted you.”

Father Russow’s eyes finally met Pranav’s. They were no longer calm. There was something wild, something barely restrained, lurking beneath the surface. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The tension in the room was unbearable.

Thameem leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You couldn’t control them, could you? Anjali and Julia—when they rejected you, they became threats. And you hate threats, don’t you?”

The priest’s lips trembled. “You don’t understand…” he muttered.

Pranav’s eyes darkened. “Then make us understand.”

There was a long silence. Father Russow’s breathing had grown heavier, his calm demeanor evaporating. He stood abruptly, pacing the small room, his robes swirling around him like shadows.

“Yes, I killed them!” he finally shouted, voice trembling with a strange mixture of rage and relief. “I killed them because they didn’t obey! They wouldn’t give me what I needed. I am a man of God, but I am still a man.”

Thameem’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly did you need, Father?”

Russow stopped pacing, turning to face the inspectors. “I needed them to show loyalty. Intimacy. But they resisted. Anjali…she was supposed to be mine. When she fought back, I couldn’t control myself. I grabbed her chain and…”

He choked on his words, his hands mimicking the act of strangling. “She…she wouldn’t stop struggling, so I killed her.”

Pranav’s stomach turned, but he maintained his composure. “And Julia?”

Russow’s eyes glazed over as he recalled the second murder. “Julia…she was different. I didn’t mean to kill her at first. I only wanted to frighten her into obedience. But when she pulled away her chain, when she resisted, I had no choice. I needed to create a pattern. I couldn’t let her live after what happened.”

Pranav’s voice was icy. “So you killed her, too. To protect yourself.”

Father Russow gave a hollow, bitter laugh. “I used Richard’s shoes. I wanted the police to think it was him. He was never a son to me, just a burden. He took everything from me. Sophie loved him more than she ever loved me.”

Thameem’s face hardened. “What about Sophie? Why did you kill her?”

Father Russow’s face darkened with rage. “She knew what I had done to Prince’s daughter. She found out, and she was going to leave me. I couldn’t let her. So I killed her in front of Richard. I wanted him to suffer, to feel the pain of losing her, just like I had.”

Pranav’s voice shook with anger. “You buried her in your church graveyard, covering it up as a heart attack.”

Russow nodded, his eyes vacant. “Yes. And no one questioned it. Why would they? I’m a man of God.”

Pranav’s mind raced through the timeline of the murders. Each step was now clear.

• Anjali’s murder: Father Russow had lured her to the church under the guise of guidance. When she resisted his advances, he killed her with her own chain. Events of her death perfectly aligns with the timings of sunsets he conveyed earlier in the investigations.

• Julia’s murder: When she, too, resisted, he used the same method, entangling her with the her own chain but as she tried to escape he had no other choice rather use the chain Mr.Vargees gifted, which was taken by julia without father noticing. That was the turning point but father didn't know about the missing chain, and tried to ensure continuity in the murders, making them look like the work of a serial killer.

• Sophie’s death: The root of it all. Father Russow had been manipulating everything for years, and her death was the key to Richard’s mental downfall.

The room was silent for a moment, the weight of the priest’s confession hanging in the air. Pranav clenched his fists, trying to keep his rage in check.

“Father Russow Francis,” Pranav said, his voice steady but full of venom, “you are under arrest for the murders of Anjali, Julia, and your wife, Sophie. You will answer for your crimes.”

As Thameem cuffed the priest, Russow muttered under his breath, “I did what I had to. You can’t understand.”

Pranav turned away, unable to look at the man any longer. He had seen darkness before, but never like this. A man who hid behind faith, who used his power to manipulate, destroy, and murder, all in the name of twisted desires.

Later that evening, Pranav sat in his office, writing his final report to the Assistant Commissioner. His mind was heavy with the weight of the human emotions that had driven the case—lust, guilt, hatred, and manipulation.

As he stared at the report, he reflected:

Human emotions are unpredictable. They can take the purest soul and twist it into something dark. They drive our decisions, our actions, often leading us into a psychological web we can’t escape from. Father Russow wasn’t just a killer. He was a man consumed by his own desires and resentments, unable to escape the emotional prison he had built for himself. In the end, it wasn’t about justice or punishment—it was about understanding the depth of the human mind. And sometimes, even that isn’t enough.

Pranav signed the report and closed the file, the weight of the case slowly lifting off his shoulders. The case was solved, but the scars it left behind would take much longer to heal.

-DARK SCRIBE

THE END