Chapter 15 #2
Simon sat several pews back, where he could watch the goings-on in front of him.
Nobody asked him to leave, which was either because of who he was and his relationship to Kate or the fact that he was the one who found Father McCain.
Neither option was something he particularly wanted to be here for.
He closed his eyes and tried to recenter himself. His emotions were all over the place, with anger, frustration, and guilt overwhelming him. He’d had the instinct to come in here, yet he had ignored it.
He didn’t want to go inside the church and deal with whatever was going on, but it never occurred to him that somebody was dying inside the damn door.
To even think that would have changed the scenario here and that the poor priest would still be alive if Simon had made that move earlier, was enough to send his emotions spiraling again.
As Smidge walked past, he stopped and told Simon, “You couldn’t have stopped it.” With that, he turned and kept on going.
Simon twisted to watch as the older man walked out without turning back again. When he turned around to the front of the church, he saw Kate standing there, her hands fisted into her pockets as she stared at him steadily.
“He’s been dead for a couple hours,” she told him. “You couldn’t have stopped it.”
Simon sank back, closed his eyes, and then gave a quick nod. “Thank you for that.”
She sat down beside him and added, “We need to find out just what you know though.”
“Sure,” he agreed. “And what I know is absolutely nothing.” He gave a broken laugh, shook his head, and asked, “What the hell’s going on, Kate?”
“I don’t know,” she said, as she glanced around, “but believe me that this one is hurting all of us now.”
“And you really think it’s connected?”
She turned to him and asked, “Don’t you?”
He swallowed. “Yes, but I don’t know why.”
“This was rage,” she noted. “This was not a carefully thought-out plan. It was rage—sheer unadulterated rage.”
He blinked. “So then?”
“So, we think it’s still connected. We can’t guarantee it’s the same killer. Obviously the MO is completely different, and that would make it very hard, short of confession or some forensic evidence, to prove that connection. That in itself will be a challenge.”
He looked at her and shook his head. “It’s all a challenge right now, isn’t it?”
“It absolutely is,” she murmured. “And I don’t know any way to make this any easier on you. I’ll get Rodney to interview you, and I’ll listen in. But, just in case it ends up causing trouble, I want to confirm that I am clear and outside of it.”
His shoulders sank again. “It’s quite a challenge having me around, isn’t it?”
“No,” she argued. “I don’t know who else would have seen this before you.
I’m grateful that you saved some poor woman or some young person from coming in here for solace, only to find something beyond unimaginable horror.
” She gave a light chuckle. “And, no, I’m not happy that you found him because I know what you already go through,” she added.
Simon nodded. “So, there isn’t a good-case scenario. There is, however, a certain amount of respect. And I feel as if you do have that for him.”
She nodded. “I absolutely do.”
“And I don’t know in any way that I could have changed anything. I don’t know what that initial impulse was, to come inside. Then I walked away. And I was determined to leave, but I wasn’t given that option,” he muttered, turning to look at her. “And I get that now.”
“Do you think,” she began but paused, as she sat here, watching forensics doing their thing. “Do you think that was because you were meant to find the body? Or do you think that was because the killer was here in some way?”
“I have no way of knowing that,” he replied.
“Okay, when you have these feelings,” she began, then remarshaled her thought. “Is there an emotion attached? Is there anything attached that you can separate out? Not necessarily a why but maybe a who?”
“Even if there were,” he said, frowning at her intently, “I couldn’t give you a specific who.”
“Right. I understand,” she replied, as she stared around the church. “It’s such a beautiful place.”
“It is,” he agreed, “but it apparently is also deadly. We’ve had way too many deaths in church lately. And he remembered you.”
She smiled and nodded. “I have spoken to him a couple times. He was a good man, and it’s such a sad thing and a terrible loss. He helped a lot of people.”
“I think he would have been happy to have breathed his last breath in this room. It was his home. It was his … solace.”
“And his work is now done,” she stated, “and it’s up to us to carry on.”
“I don’t know what happens within the church itself, you know? How long before they find somebody to replace him?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Those things are not included in my job description. However, I do know that he will be missed. He had heart and soul,” she shared. “And I don’t say that about all that many people.”
He looked at her. “He said he would call you.”
She turned to him. “When did he say that?”
“I think it was the day before yesterday,” he shared, with a frown, “but I may be getting it confused. I was asking him about religious classes and marriage counseling and all that stuff. Just wondering if anything or anyone who came to mind. He didn’t mention anybody, but he was really clear when he told me that he hadn’t heard anything in the confessional that was a crime.
You know, to put my mind at ease that nobody had admitted to killing anybody.
He shared how he was held to a greater standard for confidentiality, but that he could put my mind at ease on that. ”
“Good to know,” Kate said, studying him. “That’s a great question to have asked him.”
“It doesn’t clear anybody, but it does help to more succinctly understand what the church’s involvement in this might be, which really isn’t anything,” he pointed out. “Except that this occurred in the church.”
“Oh, it was more direct than that,” Kate noted.
“That stabbing of Father McCain was very much an outpouring of emotions. We don’t have the weapon yet, but we are all looking for it.
What I don’t know is whether the killer’s outpouring of emotions were deliberately against the priest or he just happened to be …
” She frowned as she searched for the word again.
“Let me just call it an unlucky victim at the moment.”
“Is that even possible?”
“Sure,” she said, with a shrug. “People become angry and lash out, not necessarily at their victim, but because of him,” she replied. “And that’s what I don’t know in this instance. I’m really hoping forensics will have something.”
“What about all the apartments of your three dead men?” he asked her. “Any evidence there?”
She nodded. “Yeah, lots and lots of forensic evidence. Unfortunately way too much.”
“Right. I remember you telling me how a lot of people passed through John’s apartment.”
“Yes. Through all their apartments. We’re still cross-checking to see about a common denominator, which would be a lovely indication that something was there.
So anybody who has killed once and will potentially do it again or was part of a group involved in multiple killings isn’t necessarily stupid enough to not wear gloves. ”
She sighed. “So it makes sense that a killer who plans a murder would wear gloves, in theory. However, in a more highly charged passionate killing, like this one—”
“Right.” Simon nodded. “No preparation. No plan. No gloves.”
“So that’s what we’re hoping for,” she shared, turning to him. “This was sheer rage. He has an incredible number of stab wounds.”
“I only saw the blood … everywhere,” he whispered, turning to face her.
She nodded. “A quick discussion with Smidge has given us a different take on that,” she shared, “and he’s bumped this case up to a priority.
He was on his way home when this call came in, but, because of who it is and the potential for a connection to our other cases, Smidge’s headed back right now to work on it.
He’s not convinced about the connection theory, but he’s willing to move into this with an open mind in order to help us sort that out. ”
“Good,” Simon muttered, shaking his head. “He must love you.”
“Nope. When it comes to this shit, I’m at the bottom of the barrel when it comes to his friend list. And yet,” she added, “I think we understand each other quite well.”
“Whether that means what we would like it to mean or not?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Obviously we’ll never be the kind of people who go have a drink together after work. But, if we were at a party together, I don’t think we would avoid each other.”
“That’s good to know,” Simon whispered.
Kate added, “Can’t say he’s exactly on very many people’s friend list. Most of my colleagues seem to be half-scared of him.
Or let’s just say he’s not well-loved. And I’m not even sure we could say he’s well-liked.
However, that’s an entirely different issue, and it doesn’t matter because he’s damn good at his job. ”
She sat here with Simon for a long time, until Rodney came over and whispered in her ear, “Will you ask him for a statement?”
“You’ll take his statement, if you don’t mind,” she replied. “And I’ll just listen in.”
He nodded, then sat down and proceeded to ask Simon exactly what had happened.
Simon provided the facts, and then added in the instinctive pull he had felt to come back and his inability to ignore it.
At that, Rodney winced and put a note off to the side of his page. “Yeah, we’ll, uh, we’ll put that down, you know, somewhat obscurely.”
Simon didn’t say anything.
Of course they couldn’t quite put down everything he said because it just wouldn’t give any validity to the case.
“One day,” Rodney said, “you’ll say exactly what you need to say.”
Simon nodded.