Bram looked at the crucifix on his wall. “Why do I bother?”

Again, the room went silent.

Luke looked at his hands. “So what are you going to do with the money?”

“What?”

“The money, Bram. What are you going to do with it?”

“I don’t want to talk about money.”

“Well, it’s better than talking about death!” Suddenly, Luke sprang up and leaned against the back wall, burying his face in his hands.

Sluggishly, Bram sighed, checked his watch. Half hour until Mass. He rose from his desk, went over to his brother, and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Lucas, I know you’re hurting. I know that wisecracks are your way of dealing with pain.”

Luke turned around, wiped his eyes. “How much do I owe you, Herr Doktor?”

The priest looked his twin in the eye, seeing his own tired reflection. “Bro, listen to me. Lieutenant Decker is nobody’s fool. He is a very, very…very, very smart man. You keep talking about money, throwing stuff around about Paul, trying to joke your way out of your pain, you’re going to tweak his antenna.”

“What do I care? I didn’t do anything.”

“Of course, you didn’t do anything. But look at it from his perspective. A weird homicide like Dad’s. First thing police will do is scrutinize the family. You add to that an…an outrageous insurance policy that makes us all rich—”

“Millionaires to be exact.”

Bram hit his forehead. “Am I getting through at all?”

“Not much.”

“Lucas, the police can get very nasty. I don’t need the hassle. And you certainly don’t need it.”

Bram paused, organized his thoughts.

“I realize you’re stressed. And I know what stress does to you. But we’re all in this together. So instead of pulling away from each other, let’s deal with it as a unit. Deal with it constructively—”

“Does that mean heroin is out?”

Bram kept his voice calm, tried again. “Luke, you’ve come so far. Nothing’s worth the setback. Not even a million dollars.”

“I don’t know about that, Golden Boy. For a million bucks, I think I could well afford a couple of setbacks.”

Bram pulled away, knocked his head against the wall. Useless arguing with Luke when he was in one of these moods. Completely irrational. For a moment, he wondered if his twin hadn’t already had a major setback. His eyes were glazed…unfocused. But that could easily be from confusion, grief, and lack of sleep.

“So, bro…” Luke ambled over to the water machine and made himself another cup of tea. “What are you going to do with your share of the money? Start a food bank? Open a mission? Buy a new church? Just what the fuck does a priest do with a million dollars?”

Bram gave up, started making preparations for the six A.M. Mass. “I’ve got to shower.”