“Hardly, but why go into that now.” Sparks looked down, then up. “I don’t argue with my father because we don’t have parity. As religious and learned as he is, he is at a distinct disadvantage simply because I’ve had more theological education. I can pull rabbits out of my hat. He can’t. As far as my sibs go…Lord, I’m tired.”

Decker waited.

“I backed down with my sibs because I didn’t want to come on too strong in front of our parents. Religion is my field, my calling, my life. If I make a brilliant analysis using theological exegesis, in their eyes, I’m not Bram, the learned priest. On the contrary I’m Bram, the golden boy, scoring brownie points with my parents. Uh-uh, I’m not going to play that game.”

“You’re all adults.”

“You’re right. It’s absurd to have to think about these things at thirty-five. But old habits are hard to break.” Bram grew pensive. “And there’s a history behind it. They grew up with a brother to whom being right was the eleventh commandment.”

His eyes grew far away.

“I used to love to debate…argue. I could always use words to drive someone into the ground. A big power lust for me.”

His eyes refocused, zeroed in on Decker’s.

“I had a cherished friend once. A man who could use words better than I. We used to spend hours together, arguing about God. I loved him like a brother. Then one day he started seeing double. He took sick. Ten months later, he was dead.”

He swallowed hard.

“All of a sudden being right wasn’t important anymore.”

His eyes were wet and hot. Decker kept his gaze steady, his face impassive. Then abruptly, Sparks’s face went slack, a candle sculpture melting into exhaustion. “So let them dump on me. I can take it.”

He checked his watch.

“It’s late. Don’t you have a wife and kids at home?”

Decker was quiet.

“That was rude. I apologize. What else do you need?”

“Nothing at the moment.” Decker stood. “Thank you for your time.”

“Something else pops into your head, feel free to call, drop in.” The priest plugged the phone back in. “Because it’s a certain fact that I’m not going anywhere.”

Turning on the lamp. More of a symbolic gesture than anything else. Because Rina had given up on sleep a long time ago. Her eyes took a minute to adjust to the harsh light. She checked the clock.

Half past two.

Peter said it was going to be a long night.

A very long night.

Her fingers brushed over the phone. The name of the place escaped her. A vague recollection, but nothing clear came into view.