Pouring Water On An Old Beggar's Head, The Pastor Had No Idea He Just Messed With The "Final Boss"

 





PART 2:

"Your grandmother." Beaumont threw the folder straight at Marcus's chest. Papers scattered everywhere. "That crazy old woman destroyed God's church."

The sound of chairs scraping rang out as the elders stood up. Not to protect Marcus. To surround him.

"You have no right to be here." Elder Dawson blocked the aisle. Broad shoulders. Low voice. "This is an internal meeting."

"I have a court order." Marcus kept his voice flat. "Mandatory audit. The order was signed at eight o'clock this morning."

Beaumont laughed. A short, joyless laugh. "You think the court cares about internal church matters?"

The next morning, the Memphis Commercial Appeal published Mrs. Ruth's photo on page two. An old photo, from her husband's funeral three years ago. Headline: Financial Dispute at Calvary Emmanuel — Late Pastor's Family Disrupts Religious Organization. Anonymous source. Quote: "She always wanted to control the church since her husband was alive."

Mrs. Ruth's phone rang at six in the morning. Then at six-twelve. At six-twenty-seven. She did not pick up. She sat in the kitchen with a cup of tea and the newspaper spread flat on the table.

Marcus arrived at seven o'clock. Knocked on the door three times.

She opened the door. Looked into her grandson's eyes. Said nothing about the newspaper.

"They filed a countersuit," Marcus said. "For sabotaging a non-profit organization. They want you to reimburse the entire cost of the roof repair if the trust account is ruled by the court to be in violation of the bylaws."

Mrs. Ruth poured more tea. "Sit down."

"Did you hear me? They want one hundred and eight thousand—"

"I hear you." She placed the cup of tea in front of him. "Marcus. Sit down."

The hearing at Shelby County Circuit Court took place on Thursday. Beaumont's lawyer, Harlan Pruitt from the firm Pruitt & Gates, stood before the judge with a well-honed voice. He presented for forty minutes on the right to autonomy of religious organizations. About the trust account violating church bylaws. About the act of sabotage.

Marcus sat still. He did not object.

Pruitt sat down with a smile.

Marcus stood up. He placed a folder on the judge's bench.

"Judge Greene. I only need five minutes to present."

He projected a document onto the screen. The church financial ledger, from last June to this February. Eight months under Beaumont's tenure.

"Thirty-seven thousand dollars in congregation donations," Marcus said. "Transferred into Gerald Beaumont's personal account at Regions Bank. Twelve times. Each time under ten thousand to avoid mandatory bank reporting."

The sound of chairs creaking in the courtroom.

"We object—" Pruitt stood up.

"I'm not finished." Marcus projected the second document. Receipts. Hotel invoices. Beaumont's name. Date signed. "This was forwarded to the FBI Field Office Memphis this morning. Structuring. Wire fraud. Two federal crimes."

The courtroom went silent.

Beaumont turned to Pruitt. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

Judge Greene put his glasses down. Looked at Beaumont. "I think this session will last longer than expected."

Outside in the hallway, Mrs. Ruth sat on a hard wooden bench, the cup of tea in her hand long since cold. Ms. Tamika Johnson walked out of the courtroom. Stopped in front of her. Looked down at the floor.

"Mrs. Ruth. I—"

"I know." Mrs. Ruth stood up. Slowly. Straightening her back. "Tamika."

The young teacher looked up.

"Who is watching the Sunday School class next Sunday?"