The Darker Side

I brief him on the IP number lead. He makes a face.

'I agree that it has to be checked out, and I'll authorize the surveillance, but I doubt it will be our man.'

'I agree. He's spent a lot of time building up to this moment. It's important to him. Too important to trip up over something so elementary.'

'Where does that take us, then?'

'I think we're going to solve this by finding the most basic common denominator, sir.'

'Clarify.'

'It's a logic problem. He's smart, but he's a creature of habit. All his victims have been women with the exception of Lisa Reid. They all had a deep, dark secret to disclose, and we can deduce that he killed them all the same way. We have to distill the pattern down to the one thing that'll lead us to him.'

'Where do you think that's going to lie?'

'Everything for him is about secrets and truth. The question we need to get answered: how does he know what he knows? I think if we figure that out, we'll have him.'

'Ideas?'

'We think he's picking his victims from AA meetings, support groups, and churches. He probably infiltrates as a fellow member.' I shrug. 'I mean, he could be acting as a counselor, I guess. Or in the case of a church, as a priest.'

'But you don't think so.'

'It's too direct, too risky. He needs to hide in the crowd, and he needs the freedom to fade away when the time comes. He can't do that if he's someone people build a relationship with. Addicts and sinners trust their counselors and their priests. They notice when they go missing.'

'Right,' he says, thoughtful. 'So how do we use this to find him?'

'I don't know yet.' I can hear the frustration in my voice.

'There's two things to do in that situation, Agent Barrett. Either you take your attention off it, or you immerse yourself in the environment.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Figure this one out soon, Smoky. From what I can tell, he wants us to catch him. Let's give him what he wants. Get going.'

I leave his office with the words he'd spoken ringing in my mind. Immerse yourself in the environment.

When I get back down to Death Central, I stand in front of Alan's desk.

'Let's go see Father Yates.'

28

IT'S ANOTHER LATE NIGHT ROAD TRIP TO THE VALLEY. THE moon is hiding now, punching through the clouds in places with silver fists.

'Never see any stars in LA,' Alan mutters.

'It's all the city lights reflecting off the sky.' I smile. 'That and the smog.'

The wheels hum on the uneven pavement as we barrel through the dark.

FATHER YATES IS DRESSED IN a pair of jeans and a pullover shirt. His hair is rumpled. His eyes are tired. He yawns once.

'Forgive me.' He smiles, shaking first my hand and then Alan's.

'I'm early to bed, early to rise, as the saying goes.'

'Don't sweat it,' I tell him. 'We're in the same boat, except that it's more like late to bed, early to rise.'

He gestures to the front row of pews as a place to sit.

'You said you needed my help.'

'Have you watched any of the video clips he made?'

'Just the first few where he's laying out his argument for truth. I have no interest in watching him murder anyone.'

'And? What did you think?'

He leans back in the pew and studies the large crucifix of Jesus. It is his anchor in this place, I can see it in the way some of the worry and tiredness leaves his eyes.

'Are you at all familiar with the catechism of the Catholic Church, Agent Barrett?'

'Uh, sure. I was raised Catholic.'

'What about the official catechism?'

'I don't think I know what you mean.'

'Hold on a second.'

He disappears into the sacristy area and returns holding a small, thick hardback book. He hands it to me. I read the title: Catechism of the Catholic Church.

'Everything you ever wanted to know about the Catholic Church but were afraid to ask.' He smiles. 'There is a paragraph in here that I use to guide my actions. I went and read it again not long after I watched those video clips.' He takes the book back from me and flips to a page near the front. 'Here it is. 'The whole concern of doctrine and its teaching must be directed to the love that never ends. Whether something is proposed for belief, for hope, or for action, the love of our Lord must always be made accessible, so that anyone can see that all the works of perfect Christian virtue spring from love and have no other objective than to arrive at love.' ' He closes the book. He touches the cover with affection. 'I love that paragraph. It's a piece of truth. Whatever else might occur with my church, whatever mistakes are made by overzealous or intolerant parishioners, whatever crimes might be committed by evil men masquerading as men of God, I can read this and know the problem lies with men, not with the church or with my faith. Those who fail the church are those who don't align their actions to the purity of purpose contained in that simple paragraph, the idea that we have 'no other objective than to arrive at love.' '

'It is a nice idea,' I allow. 'Too bad it's not put into direct practice more often.' I wince. 'Sorry again, Father.'

He smiles. 'I happen to agree with you. Confrontation and attack are not the way to bring someone to Christ. You don't tell them they are stupid and hell bound; you show them Christ's words, or set an example yourself through your actions. Or just lend a helping hand when someone needs it. Faith is an act of choice, it's not something you can foster at gunpoint.'

'I see where you're going with this,' Alan rumbles. 'The Preacher isn't exactly embodying the whole love concept.'

Father Yates scowls. 'Murder is never an act of love. This man is deluded at best.'

'What about his ideas?' I ask. 'The things he said about truth?'

He sighs. 'I will be honest. The ideas themselves are powerful. I've been taking confession for a long time, and I've seen the phenomenon he talks about. The hardest thing isn't for people to tell the truth--it's for them to tell the whole truth. I'm sure there are plenty who will agree with what he's said. You can count on him having supporters.'

'Are you joking?' I'm incredulous.

'Afraid not. A lot of people in the Christian world believe in black and white and operate on a principle of 'you get what you deserve'

when it comes to God and the Bible. If you didn't own up in the confessional, then you were going to hell anyway. Some will see these poor victims as victims of nothing more than their unwillingness to confess to God.'

I look at the crucifix, that paint-chipped, color-faded Christ. I search for the same comfort Father Yates seems to find. I come up empty, as always. How can I believe in a church or a faith that would produce people like that?

'Don't forget the good that's done,' he says, breaking in on my thoughts. 'The millions of children who eat every day because of Christian charities, the houses built for the homeless, the mission food lines. Not long ago a group of Christians from South Korea went to Afghanistan. They knew it was dangerous, and it was probably ill- advised, but the point is, they had no ulterior motive. They went there to help. They were taken hostage and while the majority were released, a number of them died. Religion has always and will always be a double-edged sword. It's how you use it that makes the difference, and that always depends upon the individual.