We were in the school kitchen; a streetlight made it possible to see the big stoves and refrigerators. I went through a swinging door into a hallway and suddenly could hear voices. Keeping my hand on Peppy, now more as a warning to her to be silent than because I needed her navigation, I moved toward the sound. Father Lou was outside the door that led from the school into the church.

“If you thought your son was with me you’d have knocked at the door like an honest man,” Father Lou was saying. “You’re breaking into a school. I don’t know what valuables you thought a poor school in a neighborhood like this has, but I have you red–handed, and the cops will take it from here.”

Baladine laughed. “A police detective is stationed outside. If the cops ever show up, he’ll tell them he’s got the situation under control. I’m sure there would be a lot of mourning in the neighborhood over your death, but wouldn’t you rather get out of my way than die defending that stupid Warshawski woman and my tiresome son?”

My stomach tightened at the sound of his voice, at the reckless superiority of it. At first I thought Baladine was alone, and I was willing to risk a shot, but as my ears and eyes adjusted I realized he had at least two other men with him. I could make out only their ghostly shapes, but Father Lou’s bald head reflected what light there was. He was the short ghost whose arms were perhaps pinned by two larger wraiths. Baladine was behind him. I lowered my gun; I couldn’t possibly get a clear shot.

“I know you got into the school building from inside the church, Padre,” Baladine said in the same patronizing voice, “because my man has the outside covered. So be a good fellow and let us into the church, and I promise you’ll be alive to say mass in the morning.”

“Jesus wants me tonight, tonight’s when He’ll get me,” Father Lou said. “If not, not your decision, young man.”

Baladine laughed. He was making a smart–alecky comment back when I heard a worse sound than Baladine’s voice: a muffled outburst on the other side of the door. I couldn’t make out the words, but the cadence told me Mr. Contreras had woken up. He wanted to know what was going on, did Mitch have someone cornered on the other side? He was fiddling with the bolts.