“Yeah, and they’re also pretty esoteric. Neither of them is made anymore, but they’re not hard to find, and they’re not valuable. They’re cheap, in fact.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Also Zopp told us it was weird because it’s like the same gun the Zodiac killer used back in the late sixties and early seventies. Ain’t that something? You remember, the guy was never caught.”
“You’re thinking there could be some sort of connection?”
Delion shook his head. “Nope. We’re wondering if maybe our perp is an admirer of the Zodiac killer. Hey, it’s a real long shot, but we’ll see. Since we got the bullet, when we find the gun, we’ll be able to match it for the DA.”
Dane sat back in his chair and looked down at his wing tips. He hated this, hated it to his soul, but he had to ask. “Angle of entry?”
THREE
“The killer was sitting right opposite your brother. They were looking at each other. The killer raised the gun and fired through the screen.”
Jesus, Dane thought, seeing Michael, his head cocked just slightly to one side, listening so carefully to the penitent, trying to feel what the person confessing was feeling, trying to understand, wanting to forgive. But not with this guy, Dane was sure of that. His brother had been worried about this guy. The guy just raised the damned gun and shot him right through his forehead? For a moment, Dane couldn’t even think, the horror of what had happened to Michael deadening his brain. He wished it would deaden the rest of him, but of course it didn’t. He felt hollow with pain.
Delion gave Dane Carver some time to get himself together, then said, “We’ve already started checking local gun shops to see if they still carry either of these models or have carried them in the past, and if so, who’s bought one in the last few years. Our local gun shop folk keep very thorough records.”
Dane couldn’t imagine using such a gun to murder someone, particularly if he’d bought the gun here in San Francisco. He’d get caught in no time at all if he bought it here, but it was an obvious place to begin.
“How was he discovered?”
“An anonymous call to nine-one-one, made only minutes after the murder.”
“A witness,” Dane said. “There’s a witness.”
“Very possibly. It was a woman. She claims she saw the man who shot your brother come out of the confessional, the proverbial smoking gun still in his hand. She says he didn’t see her. She started crying—and then she hung up. Nine-one-one calls are taped, so if you’d like to listen to the call, we can do that. We haven’t got a clue who the woman is.”
“The woman hasn’t called again?”
Delion shook his head.
“She didn’t say whether or not she could recognize him?”
“Said she couldn’t, said she’d call if she thought of anything helpful.”
Great, okay, Dane thought. At least there was someone. Maybe she would call back. He said, “Have you spoken yet to the other priests at the rectory?”
For the first time Vincent Delion smiled beneath his thick mustache, the ends actually waxed, Dane realized when he saw him smile. “Guess what? I figured you’d be ready to climb up my ass if I didn’t let you in on that. So, Special Agent Carver, are you ready to move out?”
Dane nodded. “Thank you. I really appreciate this. I’m officially on leave from the FBI, so I’ve got time. Father Binney’s got to be first. When we exchanged e-mails last week, Michael mentioned Father Binney.”
“Oh? In what way? Something pertinent to this?”
“I’m not sure,” Dane said, shrugged. “He just wrote of problems with Father Binney. There’s something else,” Dane added, raising his head, looking straight at Delion’s mustache. “My brother said something to me on the phone the other night—something about how he felt helpless and he hated that. I’m hoping that Father Binney will have some ideas.”
They passed the small kitchen area with microwave, coffeepot, and three different bowls of peanuts.
“Hey, you hungry? Want some peanuts, a cup of coffee?”
“Peanuts, not donuts?”
“Cops living on donuts, all sporting a big gut—that’s a myth, that’s just television,” Delion said. “We’re not big on donuts here, all of us are into fitness. We like peanuts in the shell from Virginia. Sometimes even the spicy ones.”
“What’s that then?”
“Well, that’s just one jelly donut, probably the cleaning guy brought it in.”