Джеффри Дивер - Nothing Good Happens After Midnight - A Suspense Magazine Anthology

Barbara had half-a-mind to terminate the interview, but she knew that the best time to get information from a witness was as soon as possible after a crime had been committed. She also wanted to query the priest more about his comment that the killer seemed to have specifically targeted Lois Brennan. She didn’t want to leave the church without some idea about the motive for the slaughter.

“What can you tell me about them?”

It took Doherty a minute to collect himself. For a few seconds more, he seemed to reflect on Barbara’s question, and then finally said, “That poor family has been through a lot. This might take a few minutes.”

“That’s okay,” she said.

“I met Peter and Mary Brennan when they first moved to my parish. They were a handsome couple, anticipating their first child. Completely committed to the church. I christened all three of their children. Lucas, Edward, and Lois. They attended mass regularly.”

The priest smiled and said, “The first time I had a conversation with Lucas was when he was about seven or eight. He was attending catechism class and seemed disturbed about something one day. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me he had seen a story on television about a man who killed several people. The story had shocked him and left him feeling out of sorts. He couldn’t assimilate the concept of how one person could kill another.

“ ‘Why would someone do that, Father?’ he asked me. I told him there were bad people in the world and that I hated for children to hear about such things.

“ ‘But why would someone do that?’ he asked me again.

“I remember what I said as though it were yesterday.” Doherty looked away, seemingly recalling the conversation. “I told him some people kill because they have been corrupted by Satan. They don’t think the way we do. They’re pure evil.

“ ‘Like crazy people?’ he asked.

“Yes, like crazy people, I said.”

Doherty again wiped his forehead. “I told him people sometimes kill because of bad things in their lives and they can’t see any other way to react. But he didn’t understand. Then I told him that people sometimes kill to protect their families.

“ ‘Do you think my father would kill someone if they attacked my brother or sister?’ he said.

“If that was his only choice, I suspect he would. I think your father would do whatever it takes to protect you, your brother and sister, and your mother.

“He then asked me if I could kill someone. I told him I could never take someone’s life.”

A sad expression came over Doherty’s face. “I’ll never forget what he then told me: ‘I could never do such a horrible thing.’ I patted him on the shoulder and said I hoped he would never be faced with a situation that would cause him to even consider committing murder.” Doherty’s voice suddenly became husky. “All that changed here just a few hours ago.”

“You said the Brennans have been through a lot. What were you referring to?”

“Until Lucas’s fourteenth year, his life could have been described as one based on faith and love and on the belief that good always triumphed over evil. In a sense, he had lived a charmed life. Raised by loving parents and taught to have faith in his family, his God, and his fellow man. But then events seemed to conspire to undermine his love for those institutions or his faith in their integrity, their steadfastness, their everlasting goodness. But, still, Lucas’s beliefs prevailed. He had been taught well. He was an unshakeable true believer.”

Barbara shifted in her chair. She was about to interrupt the priest because she couldn’t see where his tale was heading and how it would help her investigation. But she decided to remain silent for the moment.

“Even after his mother, Mary, died of cancer when Lucas was fifteen, after she suffered interminably for six months, and his father subsequently devolved into an emotional basket case, seeking solace in alcohol, Lucas’s beliefs sustained him. He didn’t complain about taking on an after-school and weekend job as a busboy at a local restaurant. He didn’t blame God for the loss of his mother or for the precipitous emotional deconstruction of the father he had admired and looked up to. As the eldest of three children, he accepted responsibility for their well-being.”

“Sounds like a good kid,” Barbara said.

“The best,” Doherty answered. He chuckled in sort of a deprecating way and said, “I considered talking to his father about Lucas going into seminary to become a priest, but I put it off because the family needed him so badly.” Doherty sighed, then continued: “After a two-year period of alcohol-induced self-abasement, which brought the Brennans to the edge of financial ruin, Lucas’s father rallied. He found a construction job with a friend’s company. But the work seemed to be the only form of expression for Peter’s energies and emotions. After exhausting days on the job, the old man had nothing left to give to his children.

“But Lucas remained committed to his values regarding family, God, and mankind. There was a strength in the young man that anyone who knew him found extraordinary. Neighbors, schoolmates, teachers, and co-workers admired him. That boy had more character than ten grown men.

“The Albuquerque neighborhood where the Brennans lived is cheek-to-jowl with the area called the War Zone . Near the State Fair Grounds. It isn’t the safest part of the city.”

Barbara said, “I know. My partner and I spend more time in that part of the city than we like. There’s a tenuous peace that hovers over that neighborhood, like a storm cloud that perpetually threatens to unleash a downpour. Usually, the threat acts only as a tension creator. All residents are wary; many are frightened. Crime is intermittent and unpredictable. Generally, different ethnic groups barely get along. They seem to have little tolerance for one another.”

Doherty nodded. “In contrast, tolerance is a key to the Brennan family ethic. Racial, ethnic, and religious slurs, as far as I know, are non-existent in their home. Lucas was raised to believe that others would treat him as he treated them. So, when a group of teenagers who were affiliated with a California-exported gang set upon him one night after he’d finished a late shift at the restaurant and stepped off a bus, he didn’t change his mind, as many would have, about an ethnic group because of the behavior of a few. Sure, he was surprised and terribly distressed by what had happened to him, and it took weeks for his body to heal, but he went on about his life. He didn’t lose faith. His beliefs were rock-solid.”

The kid sounds like a saint , Barbara thought. “Did he go to college?” she asked.

The priest slowly wagged his head. “Lucas badly wanted to attend college. He graduated near the top of his high school class and received several scholarship offers. But, in his mind, he couldn’t justify accepting any of those because he had obligations to his brother and sister. He took a job with the same construction company his father worked for. Eddie, the second of the Brennan children, was one year younger than Lucas and immediately after high school graduation enlisted in the Army. One year later, Lois entered a convent.”

“That must have relieved some of their financial stress,” Barbara said.

Doherty shrugged. “Of course. But it wasn’t that the Brennan household was now absent stress. Eddie had been shipped off to Afghanistan and had told Lucas that the situation there was worse than he had imagined. The brothers exchanged emails quite frequently. Apparently, Eddie shared graphic stories with Lucas. I had several conversations with Lucas about his concerns for his brother. He experienced terrible tension headaches because of his worry about Eddie being over there. He confided in me that he prayed every day that God would protect his brother and would influence the leaders in Washington to bring the troops home. His confidence that his fellow man would do the right thing continued unabated.