“That’s a dubious claim considering the youth he led. In those years, it was rare I baptized a carroty-topped infant and didn’t wonder if Billy was the father.”

“I wondered if his hair was red. It seemed mostly gray in the dim light.”

“Though I suppose,” Father Jack added with a thin smile, “Billy could claim with a certain degree of truth that he is not aware he had any children. It would have been an unusually brave girl who would have named him the father. Still, I see his point. Whoring and drunk since he was twelve years old, what would he remember?”

“He was adamant he had no children.”

“That would make the little girl his sister.”

“Of course. He weeps for her.”

“I’m sure he does.”

“What happened to her?” Bell asked.

“Wait for me here,” the priest said. “I’ll only be a moment.” He entered a building and came out shortly. As they continued along the block, Father Jack said, “There are wicked men living in this community who live by stealing from poor, ignorant people. They’ll steal their money, and if they have no money they will steal their drink. If they have no drink, they’ll steal their children. Whatever the wicked can sell or use themselves. The child was kidnapped.”

“Billy’s sister?”

“Snatched from the street—no more than five years old—and never seen again. Surely she courses through Billy’s brain when he injects the morphine. Where was he when she was stolen? Where was he ever when the poor babe was needful? He looks back now and loves the idea of that wee child. More than he ever loved the child herself.”

The old priest shook his head in anger and disgust. “When I think of the nights I prayed for that child . . . and all the children like her.”

Bell waited, sensing a natural ebullience in the old man that would rise to the surface. And it did after a while. His expression brightened.

“In truth, it was Brian O’Shay who cared for that little girl.”

“Eyes O’Shay?”

“He looked after her when Billy and his shiftless parents were drunk.” Father Jack lowered his voice. “They say that O’Shay beat her father to death for sins against the child only the Devil could imagine. She was the only soul Brian O’Shay ever loved. It was a blessing that he never knew what happened to her.”

“Could Brian O’Shay have kidnapped her?”

“Never in this life! Even if he weren’t long gone to Hell.”

“But what if he was not killed when he vanished? What if he came back? Could he have kidnapped her?”

“He would never hurt her,” said the priest.

“Evil men do evil, Father. You’ve told me how wicked he was.”