Key in hand, Decker didn’t expect anyone to be in. But he knocked on the door as a courtesy. To his surprise, the priest asked who it was. After Decker identified himself, there was a long pause. The door opened a crack, the priest came into view. His appearance was neat, but his face was pale.

“Lieutenant.” Bram stepped outside, closed the door behind him. His voice was controlled but not calm. He was garbed in black with a clerical collar. No cross. “Can I help you?”

Decker held out the key. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Bram eyed the key. “Thank you.”

As he reached for it, Decker snatched it from his grasp. “Can I come in, Father?”

Bram paused again. “This isn’t a good time. I was on my way to the hospital to visit a parishioner. A very sick boy.”

“Then this comes at a bad time for you.” Decker took out the warrant, handed it to Bram. The priest stared at the paper, but his eyes went through the words. Decker sidestepped around him and walked inside. Gave the place a quick once-over.

Oliver had mentioned in a joke that the apartment was probably Bram’s secret den of iniquity. If that were the case, the priest kept his sins well hidden. First thing Decker noticed was a wall crucifix to the right of the door.

The place was so spare it could have been listed as unfurnished. Pushed against the cheap wall paneling was a worn pea-green couch that sat under the living room’s sole window. The pillows and cushions were clean but sagged like half-empty balloons. The middle of the room was taken up by a folding table piled with papers, and two folding chairs. Bookshelves leaned against the wall. The kitchen was the size of a shed, but the appliances—or at least the oven—worked. The smell of chocolate and sugar permeated the air. Decker took a quick peek at the bedroom. A mattress on the floor, more books on shelves, and another wall crucifix. Luxurious quarters for a monk, but by anyone else’s standards, it was barebones.

Decker came back into the living room. Bram had shut the door, was leaning against it. He pushed hair off his face. “How long will this take?”

“I think it would be a good idea to assign another padre for your pastoral duties.”

Wordlessly, Bram went over to the phone, called another priest to sub for him at the hospital.

Decker started by opening the kitchen cabinets. A few stray dishes, not even enough for the standard set of four. The upper shelves were empty. “What smells so good?”

“I baked cookies. For the boy I was to visit.”

“Nice of you.”

“Would you like one?”

“No, thank you.”

“Something to drink? I have some orange juice.”

“Nothing, thanks.” He went to the lower cabinets. A few pieces of unmatched cookware. “How long have you rented this place?”