In Death 27 - Salvation in Death

reach them, to try, to keep trying to persuade them to do true penance for the sin, to accept man’s law and God’s. Let me try.”
    She could all but feel herself beating her fists against the solid, the impenetrable wall of his faith. “Did you tell anyone? Father Freeman, your superiors?”
    “I can’t tell anyone what was said or who came to me. As long as they live with it, so do I.”
    “If this person kills again . . .” Peabody began.
    “They won’t. There’s no reason.”
    “It goes back to the bombings in 2043.”
    “I can’t tell you.”
    “What do you know about them?”
    “Everyone in the parish knows of them. There’s a perpetual novena for the victims and their families. Every month a Mass is dedicated to them. To all of them, Lieutenant, not just the victim from El Barrio.”
    “Did you know that Lino selectively blackmailed some who came to him in confession?”
    López jerked as if struck with sudden, shocking pain. Rather than sorrow, it was fury that flashed into his eyes. “No. No, I didn’t know. Why didn’t any of them come to me for help?”
    “I doubt seriously they knew who was blackmailing them, or where the blackmailer got the information. And now I know whoever killed him wasn’t one of them.”
    Eve pushed to her feet. “I can’t force you to tell me what you know. I can’t make you tell me who used your church, your faith, your ritual, your vows to murder. I could squeeze you, and sweat you, but you still wouldn’t tell me and then both of us would be pissed off. But I’ll tell you this: I’m going to find out who it was. Whatever kind of slime Lino was, I’m going to do my job, the same as you.”
    “I pray you will find them, and I pray that before you do, they come to you. I pray that God gives me the wisdom and the strength to show them the way.”
    “I guess we’ll see which one of us gets there first.”
    Eve left him sitting on the bench.
    “I get he’s doing what he thinks he has to,” Peabody said. “But I think we should be taking him in. You could break him in Interview.”
    “Not sure I could. He’s got titanium for faith. And even if . . . isn’t that going to make him one more victim? I break him, make him slip enough, and he’d never be the same. He wouldn’t be a priest anymore.”
    She remembered what she’d felt like when they’d taken her badge. How she’d felt empty, helpless. Like nothing, like no one.
    “I’m not doing that to him. Have I even got a right to do that to an innocent man? One who’s taken an oath pretty much the same as ours?”
    “Protect and serve.”
    “We do people, he does souls. I’m not going to sacrifice him to make my job easier. But I’ll tell you what we are going to do.” She got into the vehicle, switched on the engine. “We’re putting him under surveillance. We’re getting a warrant to monitor his communication devices. I’d put eyes and ears in the damn church if they’d clear it, but that’s not going to happen. We’re going to know where he goes, when, who he sees.”
    “Do you think the killer will go for him?”
    “He’s got that titanium faith, so he thinks not. Me? I’ve got faith that people mostly look out for their own ass. So we cover him—we protect—and we leave him out here as bait, hoping the sinner needs another shot at redemption. Put it in play, my authorization.”
    As Peabody started that ball, Eve glanced at the time. Thought, Shit. “One more stop. We’ll see if we can jangle anything out of Inez.”
    A woman answered this time, a looker with warm brown hair pulled back in a jaunty tail from a rose-and-cream face. Behind her, two little boys rammed miniature trucks together and made violent crashing noises.
    “Pipe down,” the woman ordered, and they did, instantly. The crashing noises continued, but at whispers.
    “Mrs. Inez?”
    “Yes?”
    “We’d like to speak to your husband.”
    “So would I, but he’s stuck in New Jersey, there’s a jam at the tunnel. He’ll be lucky to get home in under two hours. What is it?”
    Eve took out her badge.
    “Oh, Joe said the police were here last night. Something about one of the tenants being a witness in a hit-and-run.”
    “Is that what your son told you?”
    “Actually, Joe filled me in.” Awareness came into her eyes. “And that wasn’t entirely accurate. What is this about?”
    “We’re investigating an old connection of your husband’s. Do you know Lino Martinez?”
    “No, but I know