“Having no fixed geographical location, of being in a sense nowhere. My sole location has become the Internet, and the Internet is everywhere. Which has turned out to be the ideal ‘place’ for the Cathedral. The ubiquitous, worldwide Cyberspace Cathedral. Do you see what I mean, David? The need to get away from my brother and his deadly associates has been transformed into a gift. God does indeed work in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. This is a truth we encounter again and again. All that is required is an open mind and an open heart.” Jonah was looking increasingly radiant.

Gurney wondered if a delicate shift had been made in the lighting. He felt the urge to dull the glow. “Then you got a second gift, a large one, with Carl’s death.”

Jonah’s smile grew cooler. “That’s true. Once more, out of evil came good.”

“Apparently, quite a lot of good. I’ve heard that Spalter Realty’s assets are worth over fifty million dollars. Is that true?”

The man’s forehead frowned while his mouth continued to smile. “In today’s market, it’s impossible to say.” He paused, shrugged. “But I suppose, give or take a significant amount, it’s as good as any other guess.”

“Is it true that before Carl’s death you couldn’t touch that money, but now it all goes to you?”

“Nominally to me, but ultimately to the Cathedral. I’m merely a conduit. The Cathedral is of supreme importance. It’s far more important than any individual. The work of the Cathedral is the only thing that matters. The only thing.”

Gurney wondered if he was hearing a not-so-subtle threat in this emphatic priority. Rather than take that issue head-on, however, he decided to change direction. “Were you surprised by Carl’s murder?”

That question triggered Jonah’s first noticeable hesitation. He steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “Yes and no. Yes, because one is always initially startled by that ultimate form of violence. No, because murder was not a surprising end to the kind of life Carl led. And I could easily imagine someone close to him being driven to that extreme.”

“Even someone like Kay?”

“Even someone like Kay.”

“Or someone like yourself?”

Jonah wrapped his answer in an earnest frown. “Or someone like myself.” Then he glanced, not quite surreptitiously, at his watch.

Gurney smiled. “Just a couple more questions.”

“I do have a live webcast scheduled in ten minutes, but go ahead, please.”

“What did you think of Mick Klemper?”

“Who?”

“The chief investigator at Carl’s shooting.”

“Ah. Yes. What did I think of him? I thought he might have a drinking problem.”

“Did he interview you?”

“I wouldn’t call it an interview. He asked a few basic questions at the cemetery that day. He took down my contact information, but he never followed up. He didn’t strike me as particularly thorough … or trustworthy.”