Page 64 of Girl, Accused

'Yes, I am. I'm here to talk about confessions.'

‘I’m not talking until my lawyer gets here.’

‘He’s stuck in traffic. Another hour away.’

‘Then we’ll speak then,’ Canton said.

‘Fine, you don’t need to talk. Just listen.’

Canton folded his arms and bared his teeth in a punchable-faced smile.

‘Interesting thing about confessions,’ Ella began. ‘Some people confess to clear their conscience. Others confess to fill a void. I think you did the latter.’

No response.

'You told me you killed Rebecca Torres, and yes, we found hundreds of photos of her in your apartment. I believe you've been stalking her, but I don't think for a second you killed her.'

Canton’s throat worked a little behind his collar, like it was strangling him. Organs sometimes expanded under stress, so maybe it was.

‘Now here’s the big question – why would someone confess to a murder they didn’t commit? It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Well, not when your future is as uncertain as yours. Torres is taking your homeandyour job once they demolish your church. That’s got to sting, so I think this whole thing is your get-out-of-jail-free card. Actually, I think it’s the opposite. I think it’s your go-to-jail card.’

Canton closed his eyes and smoothed his eyebrows down. Ella could see his lips forming a retort, but he’d already committed tosilence. If she wanted to unlock those lips, she needed to dig into the deepest recesses of his brain.

'When your church is knocked down, you're gonna be left to your own devices. No compensation, no payout, no employment. A priest on the wrong side of 50. It's not like you can just walk into another job, especially around here. You're a smart guy. You're not going to risk being homeless, so you're doing the next best thing. Life in a prison cell. With good behavior, you'd be out in ten, twelve years. Then the state would look after you. I know you've got no family left. I've seen your file. A prison cell looks pretty good compared to a cardboard box under the highway.' Ella leaned across the table. 'Tell me I'm wrong, Adam.'

Canton's face twitched. Just a microsecond of truth before the mask slipped back into place. ‘I want him now. My lawyer.’

‘He can’t teleport, Adam, and neither can you. The name James Harper ring any bells?’

The name hit Canton's face like rain on glass. It rolled right off without leaving a mark. No recognition. No fear. Not even curiosity. Just the bland emptiness of someone looking at a stranger's passport photo.

‘No? Well, he’s a surgeon, and our local serial killer slashed his throat a few hours ago. Judging by the M.O., it’s the same person that killed Rebecca Torres.AndChester Grant,andEvelyn Summers. The pattern is there. So if you killed Torres, you also killed the other three. Any comment?’

Canton’s lips worked. Words were battling for release, but Canton’s stubbornness won out. He stayed quiet.

‘And four murders is grounds for life imprisonment, or like I said, the death penalty. It’s funny how you couldn’t confess to Torres’ murder fast enough, but once I told you you’d be facing the injection, you suddenly shit your pants. How about that then?’

Canton threw his head back and glared at the ceiling. His body language had shifted. He’d been defensive since he stepped in here, but some of the tension had fallen out of his shoulders. Either Ella was getting through to him, or he’d accepted his fate in the past few minutes.

‘So, Adam, you’re either getting out of here guilty of four murders or none. And you better decide quickly, because Westfall will be here in an hour to charge you.’

He dropped his head back and gave Ella a deer-in-the-headlights look.

‘I know you’re a man of devotion, and I think you’re worshipping someone new now. I think this person who killed Torres – this serial killer – is your new God, and you’re willing to take the fall for him.’

Something cracked in Canton's expression. He slammed his hands on the table. ‘Fine! I didn’t kill Torres. Happy?’

A sudden weight left Ella’s shoulders. She felt like she’d just heard the lottery announcer call out her numbers.

‘Finally!’ she grinned. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere! Keep going, Adam. Tell me everything.’

'You're right. I wanted to take credit for killing Torres. Yes, I'd be locked up, but I'd get a bed and food every night in jail. And when I got out, I'd be the hero who killed a corrupt politician. Either that or the real killer would come forward, then I'd be the poor innocent priest that got wrongfully convicted.'

‘But you confessed.’

‘I’m on meds. They make me forgetful, don’t they? And no, I don’t want to be put to death.’

‘Then help me help you, because Westfall and my partner both think you’re guilty. What about the other victims?’

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