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shelves inside Father Fabian’s room.’
    ‘They’ve been shuffled like a deck of cards,’ Garcia commented.
    ‘So if by interesting you mean stories of a tormented priest, then yes, they’re very interesting,’ Hunter continued. ‘But if you mean “have we found something that might give us a clue why he was murdered?”, then the answer is – not yet.’
    Captain Blake closed the diary and placed it back on the pile. Only then she noticed how neat and tidy Garcia’s desk was. Nothing was out of place. No clutter. All the objects on it were arranged symmetrically. ‘What do you mean by a tormented priest?’
    ‘It seems like he’d questioned his faith more than once,’ Garcia offered.
    ‘We all do that every now and again,’ she replied with a shrug.
    ‘That’s true.’ Hunter looked for something inside his top drawer. ‘But it looks like what Father Fabian saw and heard over the years made him doubt priesthood was really his call.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘You need to believe in God if you’re gonna be a priest. At times he questioned God’s existence.’
    ‘Plus, there’re a few passages that make it clear that he was struggling with the whole celibacy concept,’ Garcia noted.
    ‘How many of these have you been through so far?’
    ‘Three each, and we’ve been reading through the night.’ Hunter answered.
    The captain folded her arms and exhaled a deep breath. ‘Bishop Clark is worried about these journals.’
    ‘Worried how?’ Hunter cracked his knuckles and Captain Blake cringed.
    ‘He fears Father Fabian might’ve written things he shouldn’t have.’
    ‘Can you be a little more specific, captain?’ Hunter asked. ‘We don’t have a lot of time for guessing games.’
    ‘The celibacy dilemma for one.’
    Garcia coughed. ‘So Bishop Clark is more worried that Father Fabian could’ve jumped the fence than with the fact that he was brutally decapitated inside his own church? That’s messed up.’
    ‘He’s also very worried that Father Fabian might’ve written down things he heard in confessions. To the Catholic Church, that’s like a felony.’
    ‘Only if Father Fabian had verbally discussed any of his confessions with someone else.’ Hunter disagreed. ‘Writing them down in a private diary constitutes no sin or Catholic crime.’
    ‘Are you Catholic?’ she asked with a frown.
    A shake of the head.
    ‘So how do you know that?’
    ‘I read a lot.’
    Garcia smiled.
    ‘I suggest you read faster then.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Bishop Clark is pressuring to get the journals back.’
    ‘Let him pressure.’ Hunter wasn’t worried. ‘The contents of these journals may turn out to be evidence in an ongoing investigation. The last I heard the police still had the authority to seize any evidence from a crime scene.’
    ‘He ain’t going through a court of law.’ Captain Blake faced Hunter.
    ‘Let me guess. My old friend, Mayor Edwards?’
    ‘Who no doubt will talk to his old friend, the chief of police. After that it gets complicated.’
    ‘Complicated is what we do, captain. We need to go through those journals.’
    ‘Just get through them as fast and as thoroughly as you can, will you?’

Twenty-Five
     
    Captain Blake approached the corkboard and studied the photographs that were pinned on it. ‘I can see what you meant about this being ritualistic. The decapitation, the dog’s head, the circle around the altar, the blood-drinking theory, the numbering of the victim . . . It’s all there, isn’t it?’
    Neither detective replied.
    ‘You see, that bothers me,’ the captain carried on. ‘Rituals are never rushed, and it doesn’t seem like this one was either. That tells me the killer would’ve needed at least twenty to thirty undisturbed minutes to achieve his goal.’
    Hunter agreed with a slow nod.
    ‘Risky, isn’t it? Especially when you take into account the murder was committed in a public place. Anyone could’ve walked in on the killer.’
    ‘He had it under