“That would never happen,” she said, banging the bolts into place. The sound reverberated around the nave. “This is Father John, priest in charge.”

“Father,” said Petrovitch, and raised his hand briefly. The man who came over and shook it with wary firmness couldn’t have been much older than he was.

“What do I call you?” said the father, scraping his fingers through his heavy fringe.

“Petrovitch will do. Is it me, or is the world being run by a bunch of kids?”

“Father O’Donnell was murdered two months ago. The parish needed someone.” Father John sat in the pew in front and twisted round to face Petrovitch. “I go where I’m sent.”

“Very noble, I’m sure.”

“But bringing extra trouble to our doorstep when we’ve more than enough of our own, that’s not. The sanctuary’s violated yet again, mass is delayed, and the police are here, throwing their weight around.”

“When Father O’Donnell died, they didn’t want to know,” said Sister Madeleine. “No investigation, no forensics, no arrests, no one to face justice. We know who did it, but no one’s interested.”

“I’m sorry about that,” said Petrovitch.

“I’m here to make sure they don’t need to let us down again,” she said. Her face hardened and she stared into the distance.

The priest picked underneath his nails. “A good man dies, and nothing. You and that girl turn up, and we have everything we didn’t have before. And who for? Two dead criminals.”

“If it was a detective inspector called Chain, don’t take it personally: he’s got a grudge against the Oshicoras.”

Father John scratched at his ear, where there was a notch missing from the cartilage. “Sister Madeleine shouldn’t have left the church, either. I’ve told her novice master. Penance will have to be done.”

Petrovitch glanced at the man and raised his eyebrows. “She’s in trouble? Because of me?” He started to smile.

Father John tried to wipe the smirk off Petrovitch’s face with sheer force of will, but Petrovitch was having none of it. “Yes. She’s here to protect her church and her priest. Not passing strangers. A member of the Order of Saint Joan has legal exemptions while she’s doing her duty, none when she goes off and does her own thing.”

“She didn’t shoot anyone.”

“She could have done a life sentence if she had.” Father John’s voice rose in volume until he was yelling, bare centimeters from Petrovitch. “She’s not the police. She’s not even a paycop. I don’t thank you for putting her vocation in jeopardy before it’s barely begun.”

“Yeah. Okay. I get the message, Father. Just get me my bag; sooner I get what I want, the sooner you can get me out of here.” Petrovitch made sure his smile grew wider and he snorted. “You take yourself far too seriously.”