Coletti sighed impatiently. “Kevin,” he said, addressing his old colleague by his first name. “There isn’t a copycat in the world that would know what Father O’Reilly said to me ten years ago.”

“Where’s the evidence that he said anything about the angel of death? In fact, where’s the evidence that he said anything at all? Is it in the court records? Do you have it on tape? Is it in your report?”

“My word’s not good enough for you?”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s good enough for me. The governor already signed the warrant setting the execution for Friday and he needs more than a note and your word to grant a stay, especially with the media all over it.”

“So we’re just gonna let Father O’Reilly die for something he didn’t do?”

“Don’t get all sanctimonious on me now, Mike,” Lynch said, his eyes smoldering. “Up until this note surfaced, you were perfectly fine with letting the execution happen.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true! If you were so sure he was innocent, you had ten years to say something.”

“I could never find any solid leads,” Coletti said earnestly. “That doesn’t mean I never looked.”

“You could’ve come to me. You could’ve reopened the investigation. You could’ve asked for help.”

“Based on what? A priest who said the killer was the angel of death? A handful of dreams? You would’ve looked at me like I was crazy, Kevin, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never tried, Mike, did you? So stop wasting time talking about what might’ve happened, and go get the evidence we need!”

Lynch snatched the door open, and Smithson was standing there wearing a shocked expression.

She was about to say something, but Coletti pushed past her before she could get it out.

“Wait a minute, Mike.” She caught up to him before he got to the door. “I can help you get that stay of execution.”

He stopped and turned to her. “You can help me by minding your own business.”

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”

“I know,” he said sarcastically. “You just happened to be standing at the door.”

“I’m trying to help you!” she said angrily. “And apparently you need it. Now, you can stand there and act like you’ve got it all under control, or you can let me tell you what I found.”

Coletti rolled his eyes impatiently as she held up the plastic evidence bag containing the note.

“I took another look at this note while you and the commissioner were talking,” she said as she handed it to him. “The handwriting leans slightly to the left, so I think our writer’s left-handed. They also pressed really hard. The pen almost went through the paper.”

“What’s your point?” Coletti said, pocketing the note and heading toward the door.