The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

state of shock, an understandable reaction after having just witnessed the death of his colleague.

As Kelly made quick work of the stone steps, Donny looked past the officer questioning him, his eyes brightening slightly upon seeing his friend approach.

Kelly put his hand on the patrolman’s shoulder and said, "I've got it from here for now. Would you guys mind giving me a second with him?"

The two patrolmen looked at each other and shrugged, knowing that Kelly’s homicide detective status meant his decisions on scenes like this trumped theirs. They'd have to get whatever information they were seeking for their initial report later.

The two jogged down the stairs and back to the sidewalk, where they began talking with the shift supervisor, likely explaining why they were no longer questioning the priest.

Kelly recognized the on-scene supervisor and gave a friendly wave to Sergeant Connolly. The seasoned sergeant gave a nod, his silent approval.

Kelly turned back to his friend. "Okay, Donny, run me through it right now. Tell me what you found. Take your time—no detail is too small."

"It was crazy, Mike. I mean, I had just finished Mass. I had gone into the back to arrange things and straighten up for Father Tomlin, who’d be delivering the next service."

“Why was he in the confessional?”

"We offer it after each Mass. It was Tomlin’s turn to hear confession. We rotate.”

“And how many people were waiting to be seen by him?”

O’Brien shrugged. “I have no idea. To be honest, I wasn’t paying any attention. After I see the parishioners off, there’s lots of prep to be done in advance of the next service.”

“What about the people in church today? Do you remember anything that stood out among any of the attendees?"

"I mean, it's a pretty big parish, Mike. You might remember, when you used to attend on a regular basis."

Kelly took the subtle blow in stride. He had long since stopped going to Mass, even though his friend reminded him of his absence on a regular basis, particularly on Thursday nights when they boxed at Pops' gym. Kelly always came up with a reason why he couldn't attend. The reality was that after years of seeing the things he’d witnessed as a street cop, then as a narcotics detective, and now in Homicide, he felt a sense of disconnect that he couldn't quite place. Baxter Green’s death had been the nail in his soul’s coffin, severing the last thread in his belief in a higher power. Although he continued to raise his daughter in the principles of the Catholic faith, he himself had become a wayward follower at best.

"I get it, Donny. You can slap me on the wrist for not attending some other time. But did you see anyone during or after Mass who may have stood out from the rest, somebody you haven't seen before?"

Donny flexed his brow, thinking hard. Kelly let his friend silently process the question.

"Honestly, Mike, I can't think of anybody who stood out. I mean, it was the usual crowd. Familiar faces and unfamiliar ones. We get visitors, family members in from out of town. Heck, Mike, it's just before Thanksgiving, people are in town for the holidays. There were plenty of new faces, and none that stood out as being a criminal or a murderer. I mean, what would I be looking for anyway?"

Kelly knew he was right. Murderers didn't always wear dark hooded masks and sunglasses and look like the Unabomber or Charles Manson. He'd met many a killer, confronted them face-to-face after seeing what they were capable of, and there was no way to tell just by looking. If you passed them in an aisle at your local Stop & Shop, the average citizen would never look twice. Some of the most dangerous killers in the world were able to pull off normal lives, hiding the darkness of their hearts from outsiders. Ted Bundy charmed people, making himself invisible in plain sight, even after the legal system had exposed him for the monster he was. Kelly knew it would be impossible for Donny to identify the killer unless he had actually seen someone with a gun.

"Okay. I knew it was a long shot but had to ask. Tell me about your routine. Walk me through what you did this morning after Mass ended."

Kelly wanted to establish a clear and concise timeline. From there, he could build his investigation around the avenues of approach and escape for the person, or persons, who committed the crime. He planned to check the neighboring buildings and surrounding area for any video surveillance that might pick up foot or vehicular traffic. A tight timeline greatly reduced the hours of tedium when reviewing surveillance footage.

Kelly had to explore all the angles if he was to approach the case in a way that would yield the highest solvability. The first step in moving in that direction would be to establish the timeline.

"Well," Donnie began, "after the parishioners left, I cleared the altar area and staged it for the opening of the next Mass. I had to refill the communion hosts and wine decanters. The bottle was nearly empty, so I went to the back of the church where the reserves are kept.”

“How long were you in the back?”

“Not long. I came back to replace the empty bottle.”

“Did you notice anybody in the church at that time?” Kelly asked. Now that his friend was mentally walking through the moments leading up to the discovery of Father Tomlin’s body, it was easier to access memory recall by breaking things down into smaller, more specific chunks of time.

“Nothing in particular. Wait—I saw Debbie Shoemaker. She was lingering about.” Donny paused and looked wide-eyed at Kelly. “You don’t think Deb could’ve done this, do you?”

“Honestly, I try not to jump that far ahead. I just put one foot in front of the other and see where things take me.” Kelly realized from his friend’s shocked expression that the answer he’d just given didn’t do anything to alleviate