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the fruit produced by those branches that are attached to the True Vine,
Jesus Christ. Those are the fruit you should be bearing in your lives. Be
continuously filled with the Holy Spirit—bear His fruit in abundance."
"Then there's prayer. 'Pray continually.' 'Pray at all times.' 'Pray in the
Spirit on all occasions.' 'Pray for each other.' 'Pray in the Holy Spirit.' There
is the secret to effective servant-leadership: constant communication with
God, close communion with Him at all times."
"And, in the end, what should be the purpose of all your efforts? To
increase attendance at meetings? To be acclaimed as a leader of the church?
To bring people to Christ, even? No—none of these things should be your
aim. You know that more people in church doesn't necessarily mean more
people in God's Kingdom. Being put on a pedestal usually results in a great
fall. And only Christ can bring people to Himself—we are only told to bring
His Gospel to them and to disciple them. So, then, your goal in all you do, at
all times, whether in public or in private, is to glorify God. How do we do
this? By obeying Him, by loving Him, and by loving one another. What is
meant by love? You are all familiar with the thirteenth chapter of Paul's first
letter to the Corinthian church, I'm sure."
"A word of warning here: remember that loving can mean disciplining.
Don't confuse love with sentimentalism. There will be times when loving
someone in your church will mean having to tell them they're wrong, and if
they refuse to do what is right, even to punish them. As you probably all
know from experience, this can be extremely hard to do, especially if your
congregation disagrees with you, or there are pressures from outside the
church as was common at the turn of the century and in the two decades
before the Protectorate. Nonetheless, if you love, you will discipline. And if
you love, you will also submit to being disciplined if you need it. Be
accountable to each other—that is one way of showing your love. Remember
at all times, brothers, that you are Christ's, that He is with you, that He
enables you. Be filled with His Holy Spirit. May His grace be with you all."
"And now, please excuse me, I cannot stay any longer. Could one of you
take Henry home at the end of the meeting, please? Henry, could Carl please
borrow your car and take me home?"
There was a general commotion as several of the men, including Carl,
jumped up and went to him. Some suggested closing the meeting right
away, but George insisted it wasn't over, and Henry agreed with him. James
Winters said he would be happy to give Henry a lift home, and Henry gave
Carl his car and house keys. George thanked them and addressed a few
more words to the gathering. "I'll be praying for you all, and for your people,"
he said, "Please pray for the other churches in this country, and for the
church in Kawanyama, that they won't go astray. Thank you for listening to
me. Good night and God bless you all."
Carl helped him to get up and he and James helped him out to the
parking lot and into Henry's car. James returned to the hall and Carl and
George drove off to Henry's house.
When they arrived, Carl helped George out of the car and over to the
front door. He unlocked the door and opened it, switching the light on. He

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was about to help George into the house when he became aware that all was
not as it should be in Henry's loungeroom. The two of them stood in the
doorway and surveyed the mess.
Someone had strewn Henry's books and papers all over the floor, the
contents of the sideboard had been emptied out of it, and the upholstery of
the lounge suite had been ripped open. Carl groaned at the sight. Someone
had broken into the house while they were at the meeting...
He suggested to George that he could sleep in the camper truck that
night. "We have to get you to bed," he said, "and I expect the house has to be
left as is until the police comes."
"As long as I can lie down soon, Carl," George said, his voice shaking
because of his pain, "That's the main thing."
Emma opened the camper door. She'd heard their voices and wondered
why they were still outside.
"Em, can you make up the end berth, quickly, please?" Carl said urgently
as he helped George towards the camper, "George needs to lie down and
there's a bit of a problem with Henry's place."
"What's wrong with Henry's place?" Emma asked.
"It's been broken into. We have to leave it as is until the police come."
Emma got out clean sheets and made up the bed as Carl helped George
up the camper steps.
"Just help me get my jacket and shoes off," George whispered, "I'll sleep
in my clothes. I need to lie down!"
Carl took his jacket off and eased him down on the bed, then removed his
shoes.
"Would you like a painkiller?" Emma asked George.
"No, thank you, Emma, I'll be all right now," he answered, "Thank you
very much, both of you. I guess I've just been a little too active lately, and
it's caught up with me."
"I'd better go out there and wait for Henry," Carl said, "He'll get a bit of a
shock when he gets home."
"I'll come with you," Emma said, "Is that all right, George? Will you be
okay?"
"Yes, thank you, my dear, you go ahead and wait for Henry with Carl."
It wasn't very long before James and Henry drove up. Henry got out of
the car, said goodnight to the elder, and James drove off. Henry was
surprised to find Emma and Carl sitting on his front step. "What are you two
doing out here?" he asked.
"There's a bit of a problem, Henry," Carl answered, "I've called Ron and
he's on his way. He said he'd tell us, when he's had a look, whether we
should get the local police or not."
"What do you mean, a problem?" Henry asked, "And why do you need
Ron to deal with it?"
"Your house has been broken into, Henry," Emma said quietly.
"My house has been broken into?!" Henry exclaimed, going up the step,
"You're joking!"

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"Sorry, mate, we're not," Carl answered, getting up and taking his arm,
"It's not the sort of joke we play on people. Don't touch anything. We mustn't
touch anything until Ron's seen it—and maybe even then we'll still have to
wait for the police."
Henry opened the door and looked into his house. His face went pale.
"Whoever did this didn't believe in doing only half a job, did they?" he said
anxiously, "It'll take a week to clean up!"
"It gives you an excuse to do some spring cleaning, Henry," Carl said
seriously, "Look on the bright side..." He patted Henry's shoulder and
smiled. "Besides, we'll help."
Henry turned around, leaving the door open, and sat down on the step
next to Emma. To their surprise, he grinned. "Folks," he said, "after this
evening's meeting, and the elders' meeting this morning, my heart is too full
of joy to let a little thing like this trouble it. Besides," he added
mischievously, "with your cheerful sort around, Carl, how can I possibly let
myself get gloomy?"
Carl sat down on the other side of Emma and put his arm around her.
"This man will never cease to amaze me," he said, pointing to Henry with his
chin.
Emma smiled. "He's one of a kind, all right," she said.
Henry pretended to ignore them, and turned and looked through the
door. "I wonder what they were after..." he mused out loud, and sighed. "I
think I know..." he muttered.
"Burglars usually look for valuables," Emma said.
"I tend to side with Henry, who obviously thinks this isn't the work of an
ordinary burglar," Carl said.
"I've an idea who might be behind it, and what they were after," Henry
said.
"Ron should be here soon, you can tell him and us together," Carl
suggested.
They didn't have long to wait. A few minutes later Ron Velasquez arrived
with one of his detectives. Henry, Carl, and Emma got to their feet as the
men got out of their car.
"Right," Ron said briskly as he walked up to the house, "where's the
body?"
"The body?" Emma asked, "What body?"
"Do you mean George?" Henry asked, "He's in the camper."
Ron gave him an odd look, and Henry shrugged and gave Carl a
questioning glance.
"We had to put him to bed in there—he couldn't stand up any longer. His
back hurt too much," Carl explained.
"Ah!" Ron said, "I see. All right, then, how about showing me the real
body?"
"Don't you talk to me about bodies!" Carl said fiercely.
"What is the matter with you lot?" Henry asked in exasperation, "Didn't
you tell Ron this is a break-in, not a murder?"

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Ron grinned and patted Henry's shoulder. "Sorry, Henry," he said, "It's a
private joke. Show me the body of evidence, I mean, which is not what Carl
understood." He winked at Carl. "Sorry, mate, I get carried away sometimes."
"No harm done," Carl said, "Come on, Henry, show them why you'll have
to do some spring cleaning this year."
"Have a look, Ron," Henry said, waving towards his front door.
Ron and his officer went into the house. They took only two steps inside
the door, and stood to survey the damage. Henry was just behind them, and
Ron turned to him after a sweeping look around the room. "Have you had a
look in the rest of the house?" he asked, "The bedrooms, kitchen, and so on?
Is anything missing?"
"Not yet," Henry replied, "We thought we'd wait for you to come."
"Well, go in and have a look," Ron said, "and see if anything is obviously
missing." He called to Carl. "Did you call me from Henry's phone?"
"Yes," Carl said, "Why?"
"I hope you held the receiver with a cloth in your hand, or your
fingerprints will be all over it."
"My fingerprints were probably all over it anyway, but yes, I did use a
cloth."
"Good." Ron turned to the detective who had come with him and smiled
broadly. "Officer Stuart, could you write a detailed description of the state of
this room?" he asked.
"No, Sir," Stuart replied with a straight face, "Descriptive writing was not
one of my best subjects at school."
"Oh, well, never mind, then. There used to be a saying that a picture is
worth a thousand words. So please get your camera out and take plenty of
pictures."
"Yes, Sir," the detective replied, grinning, and did as Ron told him.
Ron walked through the room and went to join Henry at the back of the
house.
"Should we go in?" Emma asked her husband.
"No. We might get in the way," he answered, "We'll just wait out here."
He sat down on the step and Emma sat down next to him. "The funny
thing is, I didn't hear any noise, or anything," she said, "I would've thought
they'd've made some noise breaking in."
"I expect they broke in at the back of the house," Carl said, "and anyway,
they would've been very careful not to make any noise. Henry had all his
windows shut, too, so it's not surprising you didn't hear them."
In his bedroom, Henry was trying to figure out if anything was missing
without touching anything. His clothes were strewn all over the room, his
bed had been pulled to pieces and the mattress slashed, and all his drawers
had been tipped out. The same state of affairs reigned in the spare bedroom
which George had been using.
Ron surveyed the wreckage in the kitchen. He remembered that Henry
had brought him the contents of one of the kitchen drawers that morning,
and suddenly realised that he could guess who was behind the break-in and
what they were looking for.

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He walked over to the bedroom. "Anything missing?" he asked Henry.

"Not that I know of," Henry replied, "Certainly none of the things that
you'd expect to be stolen by a normal burglar. Not that I have much of that,
anyway. The CD-viewer/recorder is here, and so is the handful of CDs I
own."
"Do you think this was done by a normal burglar—ordinary thieves, I
mean?" Ron asked.
"Ron—does it look that way to you?" Henry asked back, raising his
eyebrows.
"Frankly, no. This is more the sort of situation I've seen in the homes of
diplomats in Apmirra when spies have got in."
"I think I've an idea who's behind this, Ron," Henry said, "and I think I
know what they were after."
"How many people knew you had that drawerful of papers?" Ron asked.
"Only those who used my kitchen might have known about it—but I kept
it locked."
"How long had that stuff been in it?"
"Not more than three weeks."
"And who used your kitchen during that time besides you?"
"Not many people," Henry counted on his fingers, "Let's see... Carl and
Emma, Dad and Alice, George, and me. Oh, the twins were in there, too, I
guess."
"Well, something tells me none of those people are responsible for this
mess..." Ron commented.
"Look, Ron, no-one actually knew—apart from Carl—that I was saving all
that up, until I mentioned it to James last Friday, I think it was. I'm quite
sure he wouldn't have said anything to anyone about it. No, I know what
whoever broke in was after, Ron—it was the photos that Matt and Tom
handed over to me yesterday after the meeting."
"Matt and Tom?"
"The two other elders at Good Shepherd besides James Winters. They had
these photos of James, of me, of Mandy, with which they were trying to
blackmail us. They're in that bag of stuff I gave you this morning."
"No, they're not—I took all the photos out," Ron said.
"What'd you do with them?"
Ron looked meaningfully at Henry. "You don't need to know where they
are. Maybe later I'll tell you, but for now all I'll say is that the ones that are
relevant are in a safe place and the others no longer exist."
"Fine," Henry said. He waved towards his bed. "Look at this mess. I don't
understand why they felt the need to slash the mattresses—or the lounge
suite," he said sadly, "Did they really think I'd have put them in there?"
"Sheer spite, probably," Ron said, shrugging, "When they couldn't find
what they wanted, they thought they'd take revenge somehow. Be thankful
they didn't do worse."
"Yeah, I s'pose so..."
Detective Stuart came into the room to take photos, and Ron and Henry
went back into the lounge.

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"When can I start cleaning up?" Henry asked.

"Just give Stuart a little more time to take photos and to look for
fingerprints," Ron replied, "Actually, I suggest you ask Carl and Emma if you
can sleep in the camper tonight. Leave the cleaning up for tomorrow."
Carl heard what Ron said and he came into the room, Emma following
him. "We've got one more berth, Henry," he said, "You're welcome to sleep
there."
"I'll go get it ready," Emma said, and went out to the camper.
"Should we call the local police?" Carl asked Ron.
"No—I think I know who's behind this," Ron answered, "and there won't
be any evidence to prove anything. Besides, I discovered that the local police
kow-tow to friend Lancaster."
"Oh," Henry said in dismay, "We can't even trust the police, now. Just
like in the Protectorate..."
Detective Stuart returned to the living room. "Finished the picture-taking,
Inspector," he announced, "Shall I lift fingerprints?"
"Yes, you do that," Ron replied absently. He was thinking about what he
had found out so far and how it all fitted in with what he'd learned about the
Protectioners' activities in Goldridge and the extortion case in Apmirra.
Finally he shrugged. "Guess we'll find out," he muttered.
"Eh, what?" Carl asked.
"Oh, nothing," Ron replied, "Just talking to myself."
Carl gave him a strange look. "We two are here with you, and you have to
talk to yourself?" he said.
Ron frowned at him. "Some things one cannot tell others."
"Typical," Carl said, looking at the ceiling.
Ron wheeled on him. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
Carl grinned at him. "Some things one cannot tell others," he said, and
slapped Ron's shoulder. "Henry, watch this fellow—he can be dangerous."
"So I'm beginning to realise," Henry chuckled.
When Officer Stuart had finished his work, Ron suggested to Henry that
he lock up the house and go to bed. Henry offered him a cup of tea, but he
declined. "I want to get to sleep," he grinned, "but thanks, anyway. Another
time."
"We all want to get to sleep," Carl pointed out, "I'm not a night owl at the
best of times. When shall we see you again, Ron?"
"Not sure—it depends on how things go. I'll give you a ring," Ron replied,
"Unless you arrange another break-in or something like that, of course."
"Maybe we'll arrange for a body, next time," Carl said mischievously,
rubbing his hands together, "Just for you, Ron."
"Thank you, Carl," Ron said seriously, "I appreciate your thoughtfulness."
"Goodnight, then, Ron, Officer Stuart," Carl said.
Henry had locked up his house and he joined them on the footpath.
"Thanks for coming," he said, "Goodnight."

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 CHAPTER 27

On Tuesday morning, while Emma helped the twins to get dressed,

Henry helped Carl to prepare breakfast. He had fetched some food from
his kitchen and had taken it back to the camper, for the Slades had
moved all their food supplies into his house.
George remained flat on his back in bed.
"How are you feeling, George?" Emma asked him when she saw he
was awake.
"Not in the best shape, my dear," he said, smiling, "I think I'll have to
stay here this morning and be good to my back."
"You've been putting too much strain on it, have you?"
"Well, normally I have to lie down for an hour or two each day. So far
I've only managed to do that once since I left home, and now I'm paying
the price..."
"Well, George, I'll see if I can remember any of my nurse's training,"
Emma teased, "You know—things like making a bed with the patient in
it, feeding a patient that's flat on his back without making him choke,
giving a bed bath, and so on."
"Oh, dear!" George exclaimed, looking suitably horrified, "Maybe I'll get
up after all."
"I wouldn't take her seriously, George," Carl said, winking at him, "Not
unless she threatens to give you an enema, anyway!"
Emma and George both laughed.
"Do you mind if I change the subject?" Henry asked, "I'm in the
cooking business, myself, at the moment, and I was wondering which of
you folk would like an egg for breakfast."
"Scrambled eggs for everyone," Carl said, clapping his hands, "I don't
think they'll object."
They all agreed with him, so Henry set about making scrambled eggs
while Andrew and Helen took on the task of preparing toast.
George began to sing a hymn quietly, and after a few moments the
others were all singing along with him, even the twins. They continued
singing, with George choosing the hymns, as they finished preparing the
meal. Then Henry helped Emma prop George up on his side with all the
pillows and cushions they could find.
"Will you be all right, to eat like that?" Emma asked him anxiously.
"Yes, thank you, my dear," he replied, "I'm very comfortable."
Emma set George's breakfast out on a box next to his bed so he could
reach it easily, and went to sit with the others at the table.
"Today's work is all mapped out for us, I think," Carl announced as
they ate, "Isn't it, Henry?"
"You mean, cleaning up the mess?" Henry asked.
"Obviously," Carl said.

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"No sense putting it off, I guess," Henry said without much

enthusiasm, "and yes, I'll take you up on last night's offer, Carl. I would
appreciate help in doing it."
"We'll be very happy to help you, mate," Carl assured him, "I'd hate to
face a clean-up like that on my own!"
After clearing up the breakfast things, Carl and Emma left the twins
under George's watchful eye in the camper and followed Henry into his
house.
"Where do we start?" Henry asked, spreading his arms in a gesture of
helplessness.
"I suggest you tackle your bedroom, Carl does this room, and I clean
up the kitchen," Emma said, "Then whoever finishes first can sort out
George's room."
Carl examined the torn upholstery of the lounge suite. "Can this be
repaired, d'you think?" he asked Emma.
"I can mend it temporarily, but it'll probably need a professional
upholsterer to do it properly," she replied, "I'll have a go after we clean
up."
"What about the mattresses? They've been slashed," Henry asked.
"Same thing. You'll need a professional to fix them," Emma told him,
"but let's get on with tidying up, right now. It's going to take us a while."
Henry disappeared into his room and Emma went out to the kitchen,
leaving Carl to clean up the lounge. She looked around at the mess in the
kitchen and wondered where to start, and finally decided to begin by
getting rid of broken crockery and glass and spilt food.
Carl went from one end of the living-dining room systematically
picking up Henry's papers and stacking them on the dining table. Then
he did the same thing with the books and journals, and followed with
sorting the contents of the sideboard and putting them away. He swept
up the broken plant pots and spilt soil and plants and took the rug
outside to shake it. Then he sat down at the table to sort out Henry's
papers.
Meanwhile, in his bedroom, Henry picked up his clothes and replaced
them in his wardrobe and chest of drawers. He folded up the bedclothes
and put them on the end of the bed, then picked up all the other items
scattered around the room.
Emma put away the undamaged items in the kitchen and swept the
floor. She went to check the bathroom and remembered that she'd
already tidied that room up earlier that morning when she had come in
to have a shower.
Henry had started cleaning up George's room. "How's it going?" she
asked him, looking into the room, "D'you need a hand? The kitchen has
been found and is once again usable."
"Thanks. I'm doing all right in here, I think," Henry answered, "I'm
glad George didn't see what they'd done with the contents of his
suitcase!"

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"Speaking of George," she said, "Could you hand me his pyjamas? If

he's going to stay in bed much longer he should probably get changed.
Carl can help him."
"Here," he said, handing her George's pyjamas and dressing gown,
"How's Carl's end of the house coming along?"
"I don't know. I haven't looked in the lounge yet."
She left the room and went into the front room, where Carl was still
trying to sort papers. "This looks much better than it did when I last saw
it," she said, gazing around. She went over to the table and looked at the
piles of papers and journals on it. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to figure out what order this lot should be in," Carl replied
without looking up, "I think I'm about to give up and call Henry to help."
Emma looked more closely at one of the papers. "This looks like
chemistry," she commented, "I thought Henry was a pastor."
"He was a chemist, first, remember?" Carl said.
"That's right. Of course! That's why he knows about the Dremasone!
I'd forgotten." She put the paper back on the pile and sighed. "Would you
mind coming out to the camper and helping George to get into his
pyjamas?" she asked, "I think he'll be more comfortable."
Carl patted the papers into a neat stack and got to his feet. "I think
Henry'll do a better job of sorting those out," he said. He stretched and
started towards the door. "Right, Em," he said, "let's get George
comfortable, then."
They went out to the camper, where they found George still lying on
his back, telling the twins a long, involved story. Helen and Andrew were
sitting on the floor beside his berth. "Well, children, it looks like I'll have
to stop for now," he said as Emma and Carl came in, "I'll continue the
story later. How's it going with the spring cleaning, you two?"
"Just about finished," Carl replied, "With three of us doing it, the task
is nowhere near as daunting as it might be. However, Emma thought I
ought to add to my jobs by getting you into your pyjamas."
"Ah, that's a good idea," George said, "These clothes are a bit tight for
wearing in bed."
"All right, then, I'll give you a hand," Carl said, "Em, I suggest you
take these two into the house while I help George change."
"Okay," Emma said, "Come on, Helen and Andrew, we'll go see how
Uncle Henry is doing."
They followed her out of the camper and she closed the door, then led
them to the house. Henry was going through his papers on the table,
putting them in order. The twins skipped over to him and greeted him
happily. "Hello, children," he said, smiling, "Can you help me sort out
this mess, d'you think?"
Andrew got up on a chair and took the topmost sheet from one of the
piles. He looked at it, frowning, then put it back. "No, Uncle Henry," he
said, very seriously, "I can't read." He got down from the chair and, just
as seriously, went over to the sideboard to fetch the box of crayons.

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Henry managed not to laugh, though he found it most difficult,

especially when he looked at Emma and saw she was having a hard time
controlling her own urge to laugh. "Never mind," he said finally, standing
up, "I'll get around to it sometime. There's no rush. Thank you for your
help, Emma. I don't know if I'd be even halfway through if it weren't for
you two. How's George?"
"I think he's in worse shape than he's letting on," Emma said, "He
probably ought to stay lying down all day. D'you think we could turn over
the mattress in that room and make the bed up? It would be better if we
can bring him in here—it's getting rather hot in the camper."
"Sure. If you give me a hand. Come along," he said, and went out to
George's room. Emma followed him out after telling the twins they could
do some drawing.
The two children settled down in the lounge with their box of crayons
and some paper.
"What you gonna draw?" Helen asked her brother.
"Mmmm... I think... I dunno..." the boy replied as he searched
through the crayons, "Maybe Uncle George."
Carl came in from the camper and saw the children in the lounge.
"Where's Mummy?" he asked.
"She's helping Uncle Henry with the bed," Helen said.
"For Uncle George," Andrew added.
Carl went into George's room. He showed Emma a pile of clothing he
was carrying. "I'll put these in the hamper in the bathroom, okay?" he
said.
"Sure," Emma replied, "We'll do some washing later. Carl, I thought
we should bring George in here. It isn't as hot as in the camper, and it's
closer to the bathroom. Could you and Henry help him walk over, d'you
think?"
"If he can be moved—he might not feel up to it," Carl answered,
"C'mon, Henry, let's see if the patient can ambulate this far with
assistance."
The two men went out to the camper and told George what Emma had
suggested. "She thinks you probably ought to stay on your back all day,"
Carl explained.
"She's right," George agreed, "It's a nuisance, all right, and more
problems for you folks, as well."
"Makes a nice change from battling Lancaster and his mob," Carl
muttered, "Henry—you support him on that side, I'll take this side. Let
us know if we hurt you, George."
Supporting George between them, Carl and Henry helped him down
the steps and over to the house very slowly. They took him into the
bedroom and helped him to lie down on the bed.
Once they had him settled, Carl suggested that it was about time they
prayed for him. "We ought to thank God, too, that we were able to tidy up
the house so easily, don't you think?" He knelt by George's bed, and

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