Please welcome back Paula Messina to the blog today…
A Gentle Murderer
By Paula Messina
The
title of Dorothy Salisbury Davis’
novel, A Gentle
Murderer, is not an oxymoron. It is ironic. The story begins in the
confessional at nine o’clock
on a Saturday night. Father Duffy waits “for perhaps one tardy penitent”
seeking absolution. The priest is startled by a voice, “having heard no sound
near him, nor noticed any light as the curtain parted.” In the dark
confessional, Father Duffy sees the outline of a face, and he is reminded of
St. Francis.
The
man with the saintly visage says he wanted to be a priest. He proceeds to
confess to murder. His weapon of choice is a hammer, the only present his
mother ever gave him. He mentions one other gift, a prayer book given to him by
Father McGohey.
Father
Duffy can only provide “conditional
absolution,” and attempts to persuade the confessor to turn himself in to the
police.
The
gentle murderer disappears into the night.
Bound
by the seal of confession, Father Duffy cannot share the murder’s confession with anyone, not his
bishop, not another priest, not the police. The cleric is left “in darkness.
And he had never known a darkness more profound.”
Murderer
is not a whodunit. Davis exposes the killer, Tim Brandon, in the third chapter.
Brandon is small, insignificant, a would-be poet who cannot keep a job. A
boarder in Mrs. Galli’s
home, he hasn’t paid the rent. Mrs. Galli’s daughter, Katie, is smitten with
the deadbeat. And so is the lonely, passionate widow, Mrs. Galli.
Norah
Flaherty, a maid, cleans her way to the bedroom of the sleeping Miss Gerbhardt,
a woman of questionable repute. Mrs. Flaherty’s “knees betrayed her in the instant she realizes that she
had seen all there was left of Miss Gebhardt’s face….It was not until she
reached the foyer that she found her legs and her voice. Then she ran screaming
into the hall.”
Detective
Sergeant Ben Goldsmith arrives at the murder scene and becomes relentless in
his pursuit of the murderer. So too is Father Duffy. After he reads the
newspaper report that Miss Gerbhardt was beaten to death with a hammer, he
concludes his only clue to the murderer’s
identity is the priest who gifted the gentle murderer with a prayer book. He
sets off to track down Father McGohey. Thus begins parallel investigations,
Sergeant Goldsmith’s pursuit of the killer and Father Duffy’s search for the
man he could not grant absolution.
Father
Duffy traces Brandon’s
earlier life from when he was a child, his time in a seminary, and eventual
arrival in New York. He learns Brandon’s father was an abusive alcoholic. The
mother smothered her son, but her sins are never spelled out. It also becomes
clear that Miss Gerbhardt is not Brandon’s first murder victim. It is likely he
will kill again.
Goldsmith
understands Father Duffy is somehow involved when the detective learns the
priest had questioned Mrs. Flaherty. The visit with Mrs. Flaherty is
suspicious. Goldsmith traces Father Duffy’s
steps and learn everything the priest uncovers.
Over
and over in the novel, Brandon is described as gentle. A number of women in his
life protected him, gave him a roof over his head, and acted as a surrogate
mother. That was Miss Gebhardt’s
failing. She befriended Brandon, only to be rewarded with blows to her head
with the hammer Brandon’s mother gave him.
Brandon
is like so many real killers. He’s
a dreamer. How else would you describe a man who wants to be a poet but barely
works at it? He most likely lacks even a modicum of talent. He’s a nonentity
who can claim no accomplishments. And yet women fall for him. They want to
protect him, salve his wounds, revel in his dreams and empty statements. They
repeatedly fail to see that Brandon is a wolf in sheep’s clothing as he
struggles to suppress the anger surging under that harmless, benign appearance.
Brandon,
a murderous, gentle soul, a misfit, is far from the only sinner in the book.
Mrs. Galli lusts after Tim at the same time she attempts to protect her
daughter Katie from him. Because of her love for Tim, Katie deceives her
mother. Miss Gerbhardt acted like a mother to Tim Brandon, but she was a
sinner, a woman of the night. Father Duffy must bear the burden of his moral
dilemma alone.
Davis
keeps her readers turning the pages because of Father Duffy and Sergeant
Goldsmith. The priest and sergeant are not perfect. Then who is? Unlike Tim
Brandon, they have a purpose and are committed to completing the mission. They
seemingly have different goals. Father Duffy wants to absolve Tim Brandon of
his sins. Sergeant Goldsmith wants to bring Brandon to justice. Ultimately,
they have the same objective even if the emphasis is different. In one case, it’s to save a soul. In the other, it’s
to restore equilibrium to society.
There
is a reading group guide at the end of the book. The first question is “who should get credit for cracking
the case here—Father Duffy or Ben Goldsmith?” I won’t attempt to answer that
question. However, I will suggest that their pursuit is two sides of the same
coin. When a person confesses his sins, he is given a penance. Absolution is
dependent on completing that penance. Justice without punishment is
meaningless, and it leaves the criminal free to violate the laws of man again
and again.
Davis
keeps the tension throughout the novel. Brandon has run out of options, and the
pressure of Mrs. Galli’s
lust and Katie’s love is unbearable. The possibility of failure weights heavily
on the priest and police sergeant in the dash to stop Tim Brandon from killing
again.
Amazon
Associate Purchase Link: https://amzn.to/41aKzKW
Paula
Messina ©2025
Paula Messina lives within spitting distance of the Atlantic. She writes historical, contemporary, and humorous fiction.


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