Chapter Thirty-Four

I SHOULDN’T HAVE yelled. Paul looked stunned, but he threw me his keys. I reminded myself to apologize later as I ran out the door and found his Toyota minivan in the apartment parking lot. Paul and Lydia purchased the van shortly after the birth of their daughter, Hailee. Hailee’s car seat was still securely attached to the backseat.

The van was a practical, energy-efficient option for any young couple with a child. For someone about to confront a lunatic, it went well beyond absurd.

Fortunately, it was eight o’clock, and rush hour traffic had long since ended. As I drove, I tried not to think of Hannah’s reaction. She would be furious that I was doing this on my own.

The trip to Saint Edmund’s took twenty-five minutes, and it was dark by the time I arrived. The church parking lot was empty, but the lights in the building were on. I parked Paul’s minivan and tried the front door. As promised, it was unlocked.

I took out my Glock as I entered. As with many Catholic churches, the Saint Edmund’s vestibule was large with several side rooms for meetings and educational programs. After a quick search, I verified those rooms were unoccupied. Conscious of my limited time, I walked through another set of doors and found myself in the back of the church worship area, what my Jesuit teachers would call the nave.

I realized immediately why Samuel had insisted I enter from that side. With the church lights on, I could easily see Samuel and Father Lawrence standing together at the altar. Samuel held a gun to Father Lawrence’s head, stationed where he’d delivered many sermons. Despite his mortal danger, Father Lawrence only stared at me intently. If he was trying to communicate something, I had no idea what it was.

From where I was positioned, I was at least one hundred twenty feet away from the two priests. My Glock had an effective firing range of ninety feet, one hundred for a marksman. On my best day, I was far from that. The two priests were also standing on a raised altar, with Samuel slightly behind Father Lawrence. If I fired, I’d be just as likely to hit the wrong priest. Father Samuel had staged this for a purpose, and I needed to hear him out.

“Stay right there, Mr. Luvello. Also, you can put down the gun. We both know you aren’t going to shoot me from that distance.”

There was no way I was lowering my gun. Samuel obviously wanted to talk, and I needed to keep him speaking until I came up with a plan.

“I think I’ll keep my gun right where it is,” I said. “By the way, I know you raped that girl in Manhattan.”

“You have been doing your homework. I knew if anyone found out, it would be you. So, you know I raped the girl. Tell me why you think I did it.”

“With anyone else, I would say sex and power. With you, I’m guessing it was something else.”

“Very good. Sex bores me, other than as a means to an end. As far as rape is concerned, any guy with a dick can rape a girl. It’s not exactly an achievement.”

“Then tell me why.”

“I assume you’ve heard of the seven deadly sins. Forgetting about what the Church taught you, tell me what you think of them.”

“I always thought their designation was overwrought. Pride, anger, lust—what human being hasn’t felt those things? I figured they were the Church’s way of laying a guilt trip on the faithful.”

“Exactly! I knew you weren’t a total idiot. I grew up thinking the same thing, but it wasn’t until I was a teenager that I realized the one, true deadly sin.”

He paused, clearly waiting for me to guess. When I remained silent, he shook his head in disgust. “Corruption, Mr. Luvello, the greatest sin of all. I may not be much of a priest, but I do believe in the soul. Once you corrupt a man’s soul, you own him for life. Do you want to know why I talked Bobby into raping that girl? Because he liked her. They’d gone out a few times, and he really, really liked her. Once I realized that, I decided to shame him into raping her. It was easier than you might think. Unlike you, Bobby was an idiot. It only took a few weeks before he agreed it was his duty as a man.

“That rape was the high point of my life until this past year. I once thought I would spend the rest of my days in Manhattan, take over my father’s business, and use it to take advantage of whomever I could. While satisfying in some respects, that would make me a chip off the old block. Whatever else happened, I couldn’t allow that.

“Fortunately, everything changed after the bitch’s mother took a shot at me. When my father came up with the idea I should join the priesthood, I immediately said no. Then I remembered the look in Bobby’s eyes after the rape and how the light in them just…died. I missed that look. I figured the priesthood would give me more opportunities to find it again.

“I did find it, but it was small-scale stuff. Once I talked a man into beating his wife. He wanted to do it for years, but there was one little spark of humanity that kept him from it. Some old-time religious preaching put that spark out with no problem. Unfortunately, that sort of piddly shit got boring very quickly.”

Samuel paused as if catching his breath. I took that opportunity to shift my gaze to Father Lawrence, but he remained stoic and appeared remarkably unsurprised by Samuel’s long confession. Knowing Samuel’s propensity to talk, I suspected Lawrence had heard the same speech just before I arrived.

Finally, Samuel continued. “There wasn’t any worthwhile action until Dr. Michael Grieve came into my confessional. Someone had killed his cousin, and he felt so guilty I wanted to vomit. My opening came when he talked about his patient, a long-haired blonde who reminded him of his former girlfriend. Grieve refused to sleep with the woman, even though he thought she was interested.

“I talked him into inviting me to a session. I called it couples counseling. They were both so easy to control. I ended up making him watch while I screwed the bitch. I told him watching would make him realize his feelings were normal and should not be repressed.

“You want to corrupt a man? Make him watch while you screw the girl he likes. Once that happened, it was easy to convert Grieve’s guilt into rage and his rage into murder. It was a snap, really.”

“Did you kill the woman in Westlake?”

“You guessed that as well? I did kill her. I thought it would be a dry run for more, but I found that murder doesn’t interest me. Like rape, killing is ultimately boring. I’ve always been more excited by the psychological.”

“I’m curious. Who took the shot at me?”

“That was the slut. She did it entirely of her own volition. She got her hands on my copy of the parishioner list Lawrence gave you, and she followed you to one of their homes. I almost killed her myself when I found out. There was no reason to kill you then, especially when I wasn’t done playing with you.”

“What about the phony confessions?”

“I thought the declarations in the confessional booth added some drama to the situation. Everybody’s life needs a little drama. That’s why I asked you here tonight.”

In its own sick, perverted way, this was fascinating. I was, however, running out of time. I’d told Paul to give me an hour before calling the police. They would be coming, and I needed to bring this to a close.

“You said you had a game for me. What did you have in mind?”

“It’s simple. When we first met, I said I wanted to get you into confession. That hasn’t changed. I want you to confess your sins, and I want you to feel shame. If I feel you are properly penitent, then I might let Father Lawrence live.”

Father Lawrence continued to stare in my direction, seemingly unmoved by the threat to his life. Regarding Samuel, I knew he was lying. While the sadist in him might enjoy the idea of me in confession, I knew he’d called me here for more than just that. Despite his love for drama, I couldn’t see Samuel as the lead in some grandiose suicide play. He had an escape planned, but I had no idea what that plan was. Samuel held a gun, but the distance separating us was as great an obstacle for him as it was for me. That being said, Father Lawrence and I were the only ones aware of his secret. If Samuel were to escape, he needed us both to die in the process.

I played for time. “What if I’m not truly penitent?”

“Then I’ll give you something else to be sorry about. I would also get some closure for you sticking your nose in my business.”

“Fine, let’s go in the confessional, and we can talk.”

His voice almost thundered from the pulpit. “Do not treat me like an idiot, Mr. Luvello. Do that again, and I’ll put a bullet in this man’s brain. Then I imagine you’ll really have something to confess. Now say the words. You know what they are.”

As he spoke, I remembered an offhand comment from my telephone conversation with Detective Aldean. Samuel was clearly familiar with his father’s furniture stores. I was guessing he had experience with his other ventures as well. With a chill, I realized just what he was planning.

For the fourth or fifth time, I considered my options. For the fourth or fifth time, I realized I had none. Samuel was right—I really had no other choice.

In my loudest voice, I said, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Then I took the shot.