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Emma wiped at her tears and nodded. “A little. I saw her a couple of times with that guy Hawk.”
Her mother said, “Pop-pop-pop. Someone killing street people, Detective?”
It was a valid question, but I shook my head. “No, I think it’s something else. We’re still trying to figure out the connections among the victims, but I don’t think homeless people are being targeted specifically.” I pulled up a photo of the defrocked minister. “How about him?”
Anna Bananas nodded. “He came around a few times a couple of months ago, giving out sandwiches. A reverend, I think.”
“He gave me cookies,” Luke said.
Emma went stone-faced. “I saw him too. He said he was starting some mission among the homeless.”
“He was the guy in the Audi,” I told them.
I watched for their reaction and saw only bewilderment.
“Why him?” Anna asked.
I heard organ music swell inside the church and realized we were almost to the stairwell of the basement cafeteria. “Go eat. We’ll talk later.”
Anna smiled, put her hand on my cheek. “Pop-pop-pop. Thank you for caring about people like us, Detective.”
“‘People like us’ are exactly the same as anyone,” I said. “You’re just a little down on your luck.”
“C’mon, I’m starving, guys,” Luke moaned.
“Follow me, little man,” Emma said, taking her brother by the hand and looking relieved that our conversation was over.
Anna studied her daughter’s back for a moment before following her down the stairs. Inside the church, a man began to sing in Latin.
I turned to look for Sampson and O’Hare and saw there were maybe fifteen people left in line. None of them was Aldous Campbell. John and Bing Bang were still standing by the streetlamp.
“Looks like Choir Boy found something better than lasagna,” I said, walking up.
Sampson said, “Or maybe we’re going to find him burned to a crisp somewhere.”
“Nah, man,” O’Hare said, amused. “I’m betting he somehow snuck by us and already has a bellyful of lasagna.”
Before we could ask Bing Bang to explain, he pointed up at the stained-glass windows of the Catholic church, which were vibrating with the sound of the organ and the clear tenor voice singing a psalm.
“That’s him,” O’Hare said. “I’d know Choir Boy’s voice anywhere.”
60
WE MOVED DOWN THE street, heading for the main entrance to the church. Colin O’Hare called after us, “We good, then?”
John Sampson waved his hand. I looked over my shoulder and nodded.
Bing Bang stepped behind the last people in line, not wanting to miss his chance for the remaining lasagna.
The big oak doors at the front of the church were unlocked. We went through into the vestibule and heard Choir Boy’s voice overpowering the organ.
I wasn’t familiar with the song, but every note seemed pitch perfect. We headed up the staircase to the organ and choir loft.
“This dude can really sing!” Sampson murmured behind me.
“Like a pro,” I replied softly as I reached for my badge.
We stepped onto the big balcony above the empty church and at long last spotted Aldous Campbell in the flesh.
