Sacred Sins

priest, or have been one? Perhaps wanted to be one?”
    “I believe it's more than possible he had training.” The frown came slowly, and seemed to lodge between his eyes. “There are other articles of a priest's habit that would be as effective for strangulation. The amice is neckware, and therefore, grimly accurate.”
    “And the use of white?”
    “Symbolizing absolution, salvation.” Unconsciously he spread his hands, palms facing, in the age-old gesture.
    Tess nodded agreement. “Absolving a sin. Against himself?”
    “Perhaps. But a sin that may have resulted in the death or spiritual loss of the woman he continues to save.”
    “He's putting himself in the role of Christ? As Savior?” Ben demanded. “And casting the first stone?”
    Because he was a man who took his time, watched his footing, Logan leaned back and rubbed his earlobe. “He doesn't perceive himself as Christ, at least not yet. He's a laborer of God in his mind, Detective, and one who knows himself to be mortal. He takes precautions, protects himself. He would realize that society would not accept his mission, but he follows a higher authority.”
    “Voices again.” Ben lit a cigarette.
    “Voices, visions. To a schizophrenic they are as real, often more so, than the real world. This is not split personality, Detective, but a disease, a biological dysfunction. It's possible that he's had the illness for years.”
    “The murders started in August,” Ben pointed out. “We've checked with homicide divisions all over the country. There haven't been any murders with this M.O. It started here.”

    Detailed police work interested Logan but didn't sway him. “Perhaps he was in a period of recovery and some kind of stress brought the symptoms back, resulting in violence. At the moment he's torn between what is and what seems to be. He agonizes, and he prays.”
    “And he kills,” Ben said flatly.
    “I don't expect compassion.” Logan, with his dark, priest's eyes and capable hands, spoke quietly. “That's my territory, and Dr. Court's, and can't be yours with your dealings in this case. None of us wants to see him kill again, Detective Paris.”
    “You don't think he has a Christ delusion,” Ed interrupted as he continued to make methodical notes. “Is that just because he takes precautions? Christ was destroyed physically.”
    “An excellent point.” The clear voice took on a richness. There was nothing he liked better than to have one of his students question his theories. Logan looked from one detective to the other and decided they made a good pair. “Still, I don't see him as perceiving himself as anything but a tool. Religion, the structure, the barriers, the traditions of it, loom more predominantly than theology. He kills as a priest, whether he is one or not. He absolves and forgives as God's proxy,” he continued, and saw Ben wince. “Not as the Son of God. I developed an interesting theory you missed, Dr. Court.”
    She came to attention instantly. “Oh?”
    He smiled again, recognizing professional pride. “Understandable enough. You're not Catholic, are you?”
    “No.”
    “The investigation team overlooked it as well.”

    “I'm Methodist,” Ed put in, still writing. “I'm not trying for a conversion.” Taking up his pipe, he began to fill it. His fingers were blunt and wide, with the nails neatly trimmed. A few flakes of tobacco fell on and clung to his yellow turtleneck. “The date of the first murder, August fifteenth, is a Church holy day.”
    “The Assumption,” Ben murmured before he realized it.
    “Yes.” Logan continued to fill his pipe and smiled. Ben was reminded of answering correctly in catechism.
    “I used to be Catholic.”
    “A common problem,” Logan said, and lit his pipe.
    No lecture, no pontifical frown. Ben felt his shoulders relaxing. His mind started ticking. “I didn't put the dates together. You think it's significant?”
    Meticulously, Logan removed tobacco from his sweater. “It could be.”
    “I'm sorry, Monsignor.” Tess lifted her hands. “You'll have to explain.”
    “August fifteenth is the day the Church recognizes the Virgin's assumption into heaven. The Mother of God was a mortal, but she carried the Savior in her womb. We revere her as the most blessed and pure among women.”
    “Pure,” Tess murmured.
    “Of itself, I might not have paid too much attention to the date,” Logan continued. “However, it jogged my imagination enough to check the Church