Gnosis by Tom Wallace

The murder happened on his property, the murder weapon was his, it had his prints on it, and it was at the scene. That alone was damning enough. Throw in lack of an alibi and the case became, as Dan said, “a done deal.”
    Dantzler had seen plenty of suspects convicted on much less evidence.
    Still—
    Three areas troubled Dantzler. The first was motive. Or, more specifically, lack of a motive. Why would Eli kill two young men he did not know? During the entire investigation, Charlie and Dan never established a connection between Eli and the victims. What could possibly have been his motive for ending the lives of two complete strangers?
    The second troubling factor was the one that also bothered Charlie—why would Eli leave the murder weapon at the crime scene? Why not toss it somewhere? Or at the very least, wipe it clean of fingerprints? Only an idiot would leave it next to the bodies, in plain sight, and Eli was no idiot.
    Dantzler, like Charlie, had a problem with how the murders were carried out. Single shot, back of the head, small caliber weapon—that had professional hit written all over it. Was it reasonable to believe Eli Whitehouse, a man who had not committed a violent crime in his life, had suddenly morphed into a cold-blooded Mafia-style hit man? That a man of God had suddenly become Bugsy Siegel? Dantzler wasn’t buying it.
    Eli Whitehouse, the Reverend, did not commit these murders. Dantzler was now all but certain the man was innocent.
    And that conclusion brought Dantzler face to face with the biggest puzzle of all—why would Eli take the blame, then silently spend the next three decades behind prison bars? Why didn’t he fight it with greater vigor? What was the reason for his silence? What was he afraid of? Who was he protecting?
    Who was the real murderer?

CHAPTER NINE
     
    Dantzler’s background check on victims Osteen and Fowler yielded nothing new or enlightening. Both were 1980 graduates of Lafayette High School, both came from broken homes, both had spent one semester at a technical college before dropping out, and both were unemployed at the time of death. Both had twice been arrested for smoking pot, each arrest stemming from police raids at the home of schoolmates after neighbors complained of outdoor partying, loud music, and unruly behavior. Those two incidents were their only run-ins with the law.
    In short, there was nothing serious or legally noteworthy in either man’s background. These were not hardened criminals or serious drug offenders. They were lost, misguided youth, nothing more.
    This was attested to in Charlie’s report by Malcolm Sherwood, a teacher at Lafayette. Sherwood knew the boys well, and had them in class when they were juniors. He didn’t hesitate to give them a mostly thumbs-up review.
    “Neither had it easy, and neither was a saint by any means,” Sherwood had said at the time. “But given their difficult home situations, I would say they turned out fairly well. Neither one ever caused me a whit of discipline problems. And to the best of my recollection, neither was ever in serious trouble during their high school years.
    “Bruce was an extremely bright young man; he was especially strong in math, which I taught. Carl was an above-average student, but not quite as strong as Bruce. Like many young people from lower middle class backgrounds, they were not predisposed toward learning. As a result, given their mental capabilities, I would classify Carl and Bruce as classic underachievers. Both could have been so much more, given proper guidance. Not unlike many, many students I have encountered during my years as a teacher.”
    Sherwood went on to say he had no idea who would have wanted to kill his two former students, or why. He couldn’t fathom them being involved with the criminal element, although he did acknowledge the two boys were “probably not unfamiliar with certain aspects of the drug culture.” However, Sherwood expressed surprise when told