The Executioner

‘The celibacy dilemma for one.’

Garcia coughed. ‘So Bishop Clark is more worried that Father Fabian could’ve jumped the fence than with the fact that he was brutally decapitated inside his own church? That’s messed up.’

‘He’s also very worried that Father Fabian might’ve written down things he heard in confessions. To the Catholic Church, that’s like a felony.’

‘Only if Father Fabian had verbally discussed any of his confessions with someone else.’ Hunter disagreed. ‘Writing them down in a private diary constitutes no sin or Catholic crime.’

‘Are you Catholic?’ she asked with a frown.

A shake of the head.

‘So how do you know that?’

‘I read a lot.’

Garcia smiled.

‘I suggest you read faster then.’

‘Why?’

‘Bishop Clark is pressuring to get the journals back.’

‘Let him pressure.’ Hunter wasn’t worried. ‘The contents of these journals may turn out to be evidence in an ongoing investigation. The last I heard the police still had the authority to seize any evidence from a crime scene.’

‘He ain’t going through a court of law.’ Captain Blake faced Hunter.

‘Let me guess. My old friend, Mayor Edwards?’

‘Who no doubt will talk to his old friend, the chief of police. After that it gets complicated.’

‘Complicated is what we do, captain. We need to go through those journals.’

‘Just get through them as fast and as thoroughly as you can, will you?’

Twenty-Five

Captain Blake approached the corkboard and studied the photographs that were pinned on it. ‘I can see what you meant about this being ritualistic. The decapitation, the dog’s head, the circle around the altar, the blood- drinking theory, the numbering of the victim . . . It’s all there, isn’t it?’

Neither detective replied.

‘You see, that bothers me,’ the captain carried on. ‘Rituals are never rushed, and it doesn’t seem like this one was either. That tells me the killer would’ve needed at least twenty to thirty undisturbed minutes to achieve his goal.’

Hunter agreed with a slow nod.

‘Risky, isn’t it? Especially when you take into account the murder was committed in a public place. Anyone could’ve walked in on the killer.’

‘He had it under control,’ Hunter confirmed.

‘How so?’

‘It looks like the killer was inside the church dressed as a priest just before closing time.’

‘What?’

‘The estimated time of death coincides with the church’s closing time – around ten o’clock.’ Hunter searched through a few pieces of paper on his desk. ‘Confessions were due to end at ten to ten. At twenty to ten the church was almost empty, except for two people – a Mrs. Morales and a Mrs. Willis. According to their statement, they were asked to leave at that time by a priest they didn’t recognize.’

Captain Blake squinted.

‘The priest told them he was there to help Father Fabian, and that they were closing early because they needed to prepare the church for a special Mass the next morning. Hermano, the altar boy, knows nothing about a priest helping out. And he said there was nothing special about any Mass.’

‘Have you talked to these two women? Do we have a sketch of this mysterious priest?’

‘I’ve talked to them, yes, but no sketch.’

‘Why not?’

Hunter picked up two sheets of paper from his desk and handed them to Captain Blake. ‘These are the witnesses’ statements concerning the priest who asked them to leave.’

The captain read them attentively. Her brow creased as her eyes jumped back and forth from one page to the other. ‘Is this serious?’

‘Afraid so,’ Hunter said.

‘So Mrs. Morales says the priest was a Caucasian young man, tall with short blond hair and a long nose.’ Captain Blake waggled the sheet in her left hand. ‘While Mrs. Willis thinks the priest was “not so tall” and looked Hispanic with short cropped brown hair, a rounded nose and a thin mustache. Are they both blind?’

‘No,’ Hunter replied casually. ‘They’re old. Mrs. Morales is seventy-two and Mrs. Willis is seventy-seven. Their memories aren’t what they used to be. And you know that our visual memory is our weakest one. No two witnesses ever see the same thing.’

‘Great.’ Captain Blake handed the statements back to Hunter. ‘But the killer still took a big risk by talking to two different people and asking them to leave the church. He had no way of knowing what their description of him would be like.’

‘It was a calculated risk,’ Hunter replied, massaging his neck. ‘If he took the trouble to disguise himself as a priest, it stands to reason that he’d change his appearance as well. Contact lenses, wig, false nose and mustache . . . whatever. I don’t believe he left anything to chance.’

‘Very methodical.’

‘Ritualistic killers usually are.’

‘What if the killer wasn’t disguising himself as a priest?’ the captain asked, leaning against Garcia’s desk. ‘What if he was a priest? Priests are usually very methodical people.’

‘We’re also looking into that.’ Hunter poured himself a glass of water.

‘You don’t sound very sure.’

‘At the moment I’m not sure of anything, captain. There’re too many loose ends.’

‘Like what?’

‘The importance of the ritual, for one.’

‘You lost me already.’

Hunter left his glass on his desk and approached the picture board. ‘In a ritual, the ceremony itself is the most important thing; the victim comes second.’

‘And you don’t believe that’s the case here, do you?’ the captain asked, joining Hunter by the board.

He subtly shook his head. ‘The victim was the most important thing in this murder. The killer specifically wanted Father Fabian dead. And he gave us a clue to that.’

‘What clue?’ She looked at Hunter.

‘The number three drawn on the priest’s chest.’

The captain pouted her lips as she thought about it for a few moments. ‘The fact that the killer went through the trouble of undoing Father Fabian’s cassock, writing the number on his chest and then buttoning him back up.’

Hunter nodded. ‘That means that the attack was very personal.’

Captain Blake pulled a strand of loose hair from over her right eye. ‘Do you think all that could’ve been a diversion? The killer made the murder look like a ritual, when in fact it was just a plain sadistic homicide?’

‘To divert us from what?’ Garcia asked.

‘It wasn’t a diversion,’ Hunter said confidently as he returned to his desk and had a sip of his water. ‘If the killer wanted to stage a ritual, the decapitation and the circular blood trail around the altar would’ve done the job. He didn’t have to go as far as drinking the priest’s blood or shoving a dog’s head down the body’s neck. There’s a deeper meaning to all this.’

Captain Blake closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. ‘So what’s your next move?’