FIFTY-FIVE
Jessica paced the sidewalk in front of the church. There were police cars everywhere. Dana Westbrook had said that she wanted her back at the Roundhouse on the double.
‘Are you okay?’ Maria asked.
‘I’ve had better days.’ Although Jessica knew she was expected at Eighth and Race any minute, she knew she wouldn’t rest until Kevin Byrne was in her sight. ‘What I think we should do is –’
The envelope, Jessica thought. The envelope the woman had dropped off for Byrne.
The envelope from Father Leone.
Jessica reached into the car, retrieved the envelope from the back seat, tore it open. In it were pages from the Bible, along with other pages, handwritten on old, yellow-edged typing paper.
These were messages from Father Leone. Messages from beyond the grave.
As Jessica’s eyes scanned the pages, things began to make a clear, horrifying sense. It was about the seven churches of the Apocalypse:
Unto the angel of the church of Ephesus … thou has left thy first love …
Cecilia Rollins, Jessica thought.
Unto the angel of the church of Smyrna … ye shall have tribulation ten days …
Danny Palumbo was in that basement ten days.
To the angel of the church of Pergamos … give him a white stone, and in the stone a new name written …
Martin Allsop. The white stones. The name of the next crime scene written on a stone.
Unto the angel of the church in Thyatira … Jezebel … I will cast her into a bed …
Michelle Calvin was found on that bloody mattress.
Unto the angel of the church of Sardis … I will come unto thee as a thief …
DeRon Wilson had his hands cut off.
Jessica found that her own hands were shaking as she looked at the last two entries. The final two churches were Philadelphia and Laodicea.
Her eyes roamed the page, looking for a clue, a thought, a line that might help her penetrate the mind of a killer.
Unto the angel of the church of the Laodiceans … I counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire … and white raiment …
To the angel of the church in Philadelphia … he that hath the key of David … but do lie …
The final page was a single piece of old onion-skin typing paper. On it was a hand-scrawled note from Father Leone, perhaps the last thing he ever wrote. To Jessica, it was just as cryptic as the pages of Revelation. It read:
IT WAS A VESTMENT, KEVIN. THE FIRE OF THE HOLY SPIRIT.
What did he mean by this? What vestment?
Jessica considered calling Byrne again, but she knew she would get his voicemail. She looked at her key ring.
‘I’ll be back,’ Jessica said.
‘Where are you going?’ Maria asked.
‘I’m going to Kevin’s house.’
‘I’m coming with you.’
Jessica glanced at the swarm of PPD personnel descending upon St Simeon’s. They had both given their statements, and neither of them were going to be the lead investigator on the case.
‘Let’s go,’ Jessica said.