Page 14 of Go Home
“A law enforcement source has linked the death of Father Thomas to another fatal arson attack in Bangor, exactly three months ago.”
“Seriously?”Kate muttered.
An image of a soldier, straight-backed and proud in desert fatigues, flashed on the screen.The legend underneath: MGS Matthew Kowalski.
“The charred remains of former Marine Sergeant Matthew Kowalski were found close to the city’s Washington Bridge, an area increasingly populated by panhandlers, drug addicts, and the homeless.Traditionally regarded as one of the safest U.S.states, Maine has in recent years…”
Marcus turned the volume down.
“We had absolutely no idea of any link,” Kate said, trying to control her anger.“And as for this ‘police source’…”
“That’s not important,” Winters said.“Correction.That’s less important than the fact that it’s out there now.A priest and a decorated veteran.It’s a gift for the media, whether there’s a link or not.”
“Understood.”
“There’s a vacuum, and that’s why the media’s filling it with speculation.So we need to shut it down with some solid progress.”
“With respect, wehavemade progress, ma’am,” said Kate.
“I’m listening.”
Kate recounted their efforts at decrypting the message, the various angles they were intending to explore.
“Good work,” Winters said.“But there’s a long way to go.I’ve told our press team to stand by for a briefing in twenty-four hours’ time.By then, we need something solid to feed to the newshounds.”
“Can we at least stall any theory regarding an earlier killing?It’s not an angle we’ve been considering.Without wanting to sound too cliché, ma’am, it’s news to me.”
“I’ll do what I can.But get me results, Kate.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Though she didn’t like puns, Kate thought that Father Thomas’s home décor style would best have been described as “temporary” rather than “contemporary.”In the living room, alongside the three armchairs and the simple cabinet that doubled up as a stand for the TV, a pair of vintage travel ads in simple frames graced the walls.
Fitting for a guy who seemed to be on the move all the time.
The study was similarly understated: desk, chair, bookcase, and filing cabinet all looked like the sort of thing that could be delivered in twenty-four hours, and assembled in twenty minutes.She supposed that was how priests lived, and were supposed to, but the spartan nature of the surroundings seemed at odds, somehow, with what she’d heard about Thomas so far.He sounded like a man who’d enjoyed life, not someone who was indifferent to his surroundings or to his own comfort.
“I give this room a flick-over, once a month,” said Manda, the priest’s cleaner, standing with Kate in the middle of the study.“He doesn’t make any mess.I mean, he didn’t.”
The cabinet rather contradicted that viewpoint, and Kate had spent a long time searching, fruitlessly, though the jumble of screws and packets, folders and Ziplock bags and pouches, without stumbling upon anything of interest.She did, however, chance upon a laptop, which was password-protected.Marcus would enjoy the opportunity to display his hacking skills.
“And who came in here?Just Tom, or…?”
“I couldn’t say.Obviously, I come in here.And the burglar must have.”
“What burglar?”
“Couple of weeks ago.Maybe three.They left drawers and boxes open, stuff on the floor.Obviously in a hurry.Tweakers probably.Nothing missing, Father said.”
Tweakers.Or someone looking for the key.
Someone who knew therewasa key.
“Was that reported?”
Manda shook her head, curls bouncing.“The Father said no point.It’s possible that he didn’t want to call in the cops because…” Manda shrugged.“He said there was no point.Do you want some tea?”
That, Kate thought, was interesting.All of it.Tom’s response.Manda’s brisk diversion.She said yes to the tea, and they went into the little kitchen.It looked out onto a walled yard filled by a low-hanging tree.A target hung off one of the branches.
