He reaches out and touches the articles, picking some of them up. I watch his eyes, but they don’t scan over any of the words.
The more he shifts the clippings around, the more dust floats up in the air. I’m not sure what he’s looking for. None of the disappearances made the front pages. There are no huge headlines or by-lines. Maybe if one of them had been a rock star or the mayor’s daughter, things would have been different. Though that’s about to change. Tomorrow Rachel Tyler is going to be all over the news. And the other girls too. People other than their friends and family are going to care. People are going to look at the names and faces and wonder how the hell their city became a breeding ground for the kind of violence needed to take these young women away, and for the kind of ignorance to let it happen without asking why.
it’s so easy for you, isn’t it, Theo? It always has been. Guys like you think they can just come in here and get what they want.’
I’m not sure what he means by guys like me. ‘You have these great expectations that all you have to do is ask and I’ll break the confessional seal and tell all. You don’t think it hurts? Huh? You don’t think that hearing all the poison coming from these people takes its toll? Don’t you think I want to be able to pick up the phone and make the world a better place?’
‘Then why don’t you? These girls, you could have saved them.’
At what cost? You still don’t get it, do you? You think if this was just about me I wouldn’t do it? If it was just a matter of getting fired and losing my church, I’d pull the pin for the greater good. But this isn’t about me, Theo. It’s not about you either. It’s not about those girls out there. It’s about God. About our faith.
It’s about not breaking one of the oldest rules in the church.’
There are so many angles from which to attack his argument, but for what point? He’s right and I’m right and we both know it. And there’s nothing we can do. He has to stand by his beliefs, and I have to stand by my anger with him for not having done something to prevent all of this.
‘That’s how you knew Bruce was innocent. He wasn’t the one who confessed.’
‘We can’t go down this road.’
‘What road?’
‘The one where you start twisting all the boundaries, where you ask who didn’t confess so you can narrow down your suspect pool.’ He runs both hands through his hair, then wipes them down the front of his cassock.
“I think I’ve already narrowed it down,’ I say, and I start to scoop the articles back up.
it wasn’t Sidney Alderman.’
Part of me wants to lean forward and pick him up by his collar and shake him until all that I need from him falls from that locked vault inside of him where he keeps secrets. Another part is thankful. He won’t give up these secrets, and he’ll never give up mine either.
‘You’re letting a murderer get away’ There is no conviction behind my words. It’s a last-ditch effort, and one that I don’t expect to get me anywhere.
He seems to know this, it haunts me.’
If I tell him what Sidney Alderman has done to my daughter, will it change his views? I don’t think it will. The priest’s ideas about what Sidney Alderman is like are all outdated. He built up a friendship with the guy thirty or forty years ago, and that’s how he still sees him. I wonder what it would take — whether there is a limit to how much pain there is — for Father Julian to accept that his faith and his convictions simply aren’t worth it. Is there a number? A dozen dead girls? A hundred?
‘Sidney Alderman. Tell me where he is.’
“I don’t know’
‘Did he kill those girls?’
“I want you to go now, Theo. And I want you to remember your promise.’
‘But you can tell me about him, right? You can at least give me some history there.’
‘Sidney Alderman is a very sad man, Theo. Like you, he has lost his family. Surely you remember how you felt the day Emily died. Surely you can empathise.’
Of course I remember. But I didn’t go around digging up graves.
‘What happened to him two years ago?’
“I don’t follow’
I finish putting the articles into the envelope. One of them said he retired two years ago. Is that enough? People become killers when there is a trigger. When there’s a defining moment that makes somebody snap. I figure it’s more likely Sidney Alderman would’ve snapped ten years ago when his wife died, not two years ago when he retired.
‘Somebody has to pay for this,’ I say.
‘Somebody already has.’
‘But not the right person.’ I tuck the end of the envelope back into itself. ‘The police are close. All of this, ifs unravelling. You had your chance to help, but you didn’t take it. This was your chance for redemption, Father.’