“Both.”
“Just some bruised ribs that can heal on their own and the doc downstairs said murder weapon definitely could be that knife I found, but we won’t know till we get the test results from the dried blood on the blade. What’d you get out of the priest?”
“He confessed to harboring a killer and giving us a false description, but nothing useful in finding Drake.”
“Let me talk to him, I need to ask him why Drake hoarded jars of holy water.”
“Okay, but tread carefully. No rough stuff. I don’t want him screaming the universal safe word of ‘Attorney.”
“Understood,” I say, leaving his office.
I enter the interrogation room, and the priest looks nervous as hell. “Why didn’t you tell us Drake was hiding in your church?
“I don’t know.” He rubs his brow sobbing. “I thought I could help him change. Turn away from his ways of bloodshed.”
Only an arrogant fool would think they could rehab a sickness like Drake.
“Yeah, well, you can’t protect the devil, father. Because in the end, he will spit it back in your face. Look, I need to ask you something, and you must be truthful with me. Your freedom hangs on the answer.”
He lowers his hands and takes a deep breath. “Just ask, Detective.” His voice brittle.
“He got the holy water from you, didn’t he?”
He lets out a long sigh. “I gave it to him. He believed it would keep him away from the heroin, but its common knowledge that a person needs to have the desire to quit before my program can help them. That being said, I thought the holy water would give him the motivation to stay with the program.”
“Drake was selling you a line of bullshit, and considering how you pegged me as an addict right off the bat, I don’t buy for one second you believed he was a junkie. He’s too healthy-looking. His addiction was bloodshed, father. Not drugs.”
His head lowers. “I knew he was killing all this time. I tried to use my rehab program to help him. I figured an addiction to killing isn’t any different than an addiction to drugs.”
Anger burns in my eyes as I lean forward. “That’s very noble of you but extremely stupid! You pointlessly put yourself and your congregation at risk, not to mention the people you got killed!” I slam the photo of Jason’s wife on the table. “You sentenced that mother and her children to death. Think you can say enough Hail Marys’ to wash this shit off you?”
“Officer, you have to understand; I see some good in him.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up. “You still don’t get it, do you? He never needed your help. He just saw you as a means to an end. Someone he could manipulate into hiding him.” I sit the bottle of holy water on the table. “Tell me what he really does with the holy water.”
He lets out a sigh. “When he kills his victims, he blesses his knife in holy water, so their souls can enter God’s kingdom. Or so he told me. You know, I use to say God never abandons his children, but I think God abandoned Drake a long time ago.”
I close my eyes and clench my jaw, but I compose myself. “You teach him that, Hmm?”
His eyes widen, and his voice fills with panic. “No. No, I did not. I can’t help it; he twisted the word of God around.”
“No, but you could’ve absolved yourself by giving him up to the police, but you chose to be in league with the devil, and now you will have to burn for it. But, there is still one chance for absolution.”
He looks at me with tearful eyes. “Anything to absolve my soul, Detective. Being a priest is my life.”
“You can tell me where he’d run to if he needed to hide.”
“I wish I could help you detective, but I don’t know where he would go to.”
“Does he have any next of kin?”
“Not unless you want to travel to London.”
“Who does he have in London that would take him in despite knowing what he is?”
“Gemma Drake, his sister. She would take him and hide him regardless of what he’s done.”
“Good to know,” I say, writing the name down.
“When I was Drake’s house, I recall seeing him on fishing on a boat. Where is that docked?”
The boat is a long shot, but it’s worth checking out. “That is David’s boat. I went fishing with him a few times. It’s the SS Sea Serpent.”
“Can you give me the location of where it’s docked?”
“Sure, Detective. It’s docked at 5200 West Tyson Avenue. The boat is behind the Hula Bay Club.”
“Thank you, father.” I jot down the address in my notepad.
He starts sobbing again. “I am sorry about your partner’s family. If I had come forward… those little girls would still be alive.” His guilt snatches the air from his lungs. “Oh, god. Forgive me! What’s to become of me?”
“As they say in Catholicism, if God sees fit to forgive you, then it shall be done.” I leave the room. His advocates in the Catholic Church will provide a lawyer for him, and he will likely go free. Either way, he is going to get ex-communicated.
Walking through the lobby, two cops are wrestling with a young adult tripping balls on damn bath salts. “I will kill all of you and eat your fucking corpses!” The junkie snarls. He bites one of them, and they Taser the piss out of him with two different Tasers, but he is still fighting like a rabid animal.
Looks like I am helping the rookie again.
I yank out my baton and storm up behind him, whacking the crazed junkie in the knee. He falls to the floor
