Luke drank tea, squashed the cup and two-pointed it into the waste can. “I’m going to buy a house. That should keep Dana happy for a while, don’t you think?”

“Whatever.”

“Think Dad would approve of me using the money for a house?”

Bram was silent.

Luke shrugged. “I think he would. Much better than shooting it in my veins.”

Softly, Bram said, “Are you high, Lucas?”

“No, Abram, I am not. But sincerely, I wish I was.”

The priest walked over to his brother, embraced him tightly. To his surprise, Luke fell into his arms and wept bitterly. And also to his surprise, Bram felt his own eyes overflow. For several moments, he couldn’t tell who was actually crying. Holding his twin. It was as if he was holding himself.

Berger wasn’t happy, but he was resigned to the inevitable. He motioned Decker to follow. Together, without speaking, they took the elevator down to the second floor. Berger moved swiftly, cornering the series of corridors like a four-wheel drive on a mountain. He stopped short, unlocked a door, and let Decker inside his office.

Small and neat. A tiny anteroom, the open door showing about a hundred and twenty square feet of dawn-lit space. Berger flipped on the lights. He had a desk, a matching credenza, a couple of worn patient chairs and bookshelves. Not much else. Not much else would fit. The doctor hung up his white coat on a brass rack and sat down in front of his desk. Decker pulled up a chair, positioning it directly across from Berger. He took out a notepad.

Berger checked his watch. “I don’t know what I could possibly tell you. But go ahead.”

“You’ve worked with Dr. Sparks for a long time.”

“Yes.”

“You went through medical school with him?”

“Harvard. Although I’m sure you know that already.”

“Yes, I do. Have you always worked with Dr. Sparks?”

“You mean are we joined at the hip? The answer is no.”

“So you’ve had positions other than your current one with Sparks?”

“I don’t see the point of this line of questioning.”

“All right, I’ll be direct. You’ve got a great reputation as being a surgeon in your own right. But with Sparks, you were always the number two man. Did that ever lead to resentment?”

Berger looked Decker in the eye. “Yes.”

Decker was quiet.

“Surprised?” Berger asked.

“Surprised that you admitted it.”

“Yes, at times, I was resentful…very resentful. We’d walk in a room together, Azor would get the accolades, I’d be standing there, nodding my head like some carnival kewpie doll. Of course, I was resentful. But I didn’t murder the man.” Berger’s voice went harsh. “If that was your reason for questioning me, you’re going about this investigation all wrong. I think you’d better reevaluate.”