Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [686]
“What’s in the box?” she asked. Not able to resist an opening taunt, she added, “A fillet knife? Maybe some boy’s underpants?”
He was good. Not even a flinch as he met her eyes and said, “The person you’re looking for has been e-mailing me and sending me things. I’ve brought as many of the items as possible in the hopes that you might be able to get his fingerprints.”
“If he’s been sending stuff,” Pakula said, “how have you been getting it? Postal service? Special delivery?”
“Postal service. All but one of them. No return addresses even on the postal service ones.”
“He’s been sending you things?” Maggie said. “How did he find you?”
Keller shrugged. “Probably through the church.”
“Actually, the church officials told me they had no record of your whereabouts,” Maggie challenged. “In fact, they said you hadn’t been issued a reassignment.”
“The church is very protective of her priests. Perhaps you’ve noticed that with this case.” When he answered this time he looked to Pakula.
“Are you saying they’ve had your address the entire time?”
“They’ve known how to get in touch with me.”
Maggie couldn’t determine whether it was a lie or not. After what she had learned about the Catholic Church this week, she almost found herself believing him.
“How about the other one?” Pakula asked.
“I’m sorry, the other one?”
“You said the postal service brought all but one. How did you get the other?”
“One of the village boys—Arturo delivered it. He said an old man had given it to him.” He reached for the teacup again.
“Any chance the kid got into it before he handed it off to you?” Pakula asked.
“No, absolutely not,” he said, setting the cup down, and immediately Maggie saw why. There was a slight tremor to his fingers now. “Arturo was one of my best altar boys. He was a good boy. He would never have done something like that.”
Maggie’s stomach did a sudden flip. Keller had referred to the boy in the past tense. “Was? What do you mean, was?”
Keller’s eyes met hers then darted off to the left. In that brief moment she thought she could see him backpedal, shifting gears. Had she caught him or was it the effect of the poison? He looked past her and to Pakula when he answered, “He used to be an altar boy for me. He’s not anymore.”
Pakula seemed to ignore the entire exchange.
“I highly doubt we’re gonna get this guy’s fingerprints no matter how much crap you’ve got in that box,” he told Keller.
“I agree with Detective Pakula,” Maggie said. “I doubt there’s anything you have that will help us.”
Keller pulled the box to him, suddenly protective of it, keeping it on the table but now wrapping both arms around it. “I don’t think he was careful, because I don’t think he believed I’d live long enough to hand this over to the authorities. And if you aren’t able to match his prints, there’s always the trail of e-mails. I have the list.”
“Why do you suppose you’re on the list, Father Keller?” Maggie asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Really? No idea at all?”
She waited, giving him a second chance. He shifted ever so slightly in his chair and leaned his elbows on the table. There were a few blinks of his eyes but nothing excessive. Maggie had known killers who had convinced themselves that they had done nothing wrong, so effectively, so completely, that it became difficult to detect the lies even with a polygraph test. She believed Keller had done the same. Four years ago she had come to the conclusion that he had been on a mission. He had appointed himself a sort of savior of abused boys. Unlike The Sin Eater who Maggie suspected avenged, and thus rescued boys by executing their abuser, Father Keller simply rescued boys by murdering them, ending their alleged