Gnosis

“Charlie Bolton still kicking around these days?”

“Yeah. Charlie is very much alive. Retired about ten years ago. Spends most of his time fishing.”

“I always respected Charlie. Thought he was fair with me when all that nonsense was happening. He was fair because he wasn’t sold on my guilt. His partner, what was that rascal’s name?”

“Dan Matthews.”

“Yeah, that’s him. Tough hombre, he was. Certainly not the warm, friendly type. How is he doing these days?”

“He’s dead.”

“Murdered, correct?”

“If you knew, why did you ask?”

“For the sheer fun of it, Detective.”

Dantzler stood. “Have fun at someone else’s expense, Reverend. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not. There’s no way you leave now.”

“Awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“You couldn’t handle it if I called your bluff and let you walk out of here without knowing why I asked to meet with you. I doubt you would make it ten paces before your curiosity got the better of you. You would spin around like Fred Astaire, dance back in here like you had been summoned to God’s throne, and fall into that chair. Sit down, Detective. We both know you’re not going anywhere.”

“Enough chit-chat, Reverend. Why am I here?”

“To prove my innocence.”

That wasn’t an answer Dantzler expected. “You’re putting me on, right?”

“I’m as serious as this cancer inside me.”

“Why should I believe you’re innocent?”

“Because I’m telling you I am. I may have many negative qualities, Detective, but being a liar isn’t one of them.”

Dantzler sat, stared at the floor for several seconds, and then looked at the Reverend. “You’ve been here since, what… ’eighty-two, and you’re just now declaring your innocence? In all those years, not one squawk, not one appeal. You never once cried foul. Something about that doesn’t ring true.”

“I didn’t kill those two people, Detective Dantzler. That’s the truth.”

“Why now? Why me?”

“Why now? Let’s just say circumstances have changed within the past two weeks. Changed in a positive way from my standpoint. As for why I chose you, simple. I checked up on you, and from everything I could learn, you’re a first-rate detective.”

Dantzler reached into his coat pocket and took out his notepad.

“What are you doing?” Eli asked.

“I’m gonna take some notes.”

“No, you’re not. You don’t need notes. You’re young… your memory is fine. Put that away.”

“Notes ensure accuracy.”

“You’re not preparing for an exam, Detective. Lose the cheat sheet.”

“You don’t like it, tell me to leave,” Dantzler waited for the Reverend’s response. When the old man remained silent, Dantzler flipped the notepad open, and said, “Tell me about the circumstances. What changed?”

“Can’t do it, Detective. Sorry.”

“Why not?”

“Silence is golden.”

“Clever answer, but not very helpful,” Dantzler said, shaking his head.

“It’s all you get.”

“I don’t work closed cases.”

“Then open it,” the Reverend said. “Give it a fresh look through a new pair of eyes. Who knows? Maybe you’ll get it right this time.”

“They got it right.”

“No, they didn’t.”

“The evidence-all the evidence-says you were guilty.”

“That evidence is much like some of your religious beliefs, Detective. It’s dead wrong.”

“What’s wrong about it?”

“That’s for you to find out.”

“You’re not doing much to convince me to take this case.”

“You’re already convinced, Detective. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

“Let’s say I believed you, Reverend, which I don’t. But for the sake of argument, I’ll pretend I do. You would have to give me a lot more than your assurance that you are innocent before I would agree to pursue this. A whole lot more.”

“I’ll give you two reasons, Detective. First, the drugs. They found heroin, cocaine, and pills at the crime scene. I had nothing whatsoever to do with drugs. In any way, shape, or form. Ever. Wouldn’t even know what they look like or how they smell. They were planted at the scene.”

“Not good enough. Anyone in your situation is going to say exactly that. Your second reason needs to be much better or we have nothing else to discuss.”

“The gun. Do you really think I would leave the murder weapon at the scene? Do you think I’m that stupid?”

Dantzler shook his head, said, “That’s still not enough.”

“Check the Herald-Leader for the past two weeks. The obits. You’ll find your answer there.”

“The obits?”

“Dead people do tell tales, Detective.”

“That’s it? Check the obituary page? That’s all you’ve got?”

“It’s all you need. Trust me.”

Dantzler stood. “Whose obit am I looking for? And why?”

The Reverend shook his head and closed his eyes.

“Why not give me the name?” Dantzler asked. “If it’s that important?”

“Those circumstances I mentioned earlier? The change was positive, not perfect.”

“So, you won’t give me the name? Or you can’t?”

The Reverend shrugged.

“Are you afraid of someone?”

Silence.

“What you are giving me is awfully thin, Reverend.”

“No more talk, Detective. I’ve given you enough. You either do it or you don’t. Won’t make much difference to me, because I’ll likely be dead by the time you figure it out. It would be nice to see my name cleared before I’m gone, but if it doesn’t happen, so be it. When I face my Maker-your Creator-I’ll have to answer for my share of sins. But murder will not be in the book.”

“You’re smooth, Reverend. I’ll give you that. I almost believe you.”

“Look into it, Detective. If you don’t, you’re letting a murderer run free.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.”

Dantzler turned and walked out of the light and into the darkness.

“Oh, Detective,” the Reverend said. “You do believe me.”

CHAPTER THREE

Dantzler made it back to Lexington just after nightfall. As always, the Saturday night in-town traffic was a