She looked from Mann to Coletti and knew that they wouldn’t leave until she told them something. She considered lying, but the look on the old one’s face said he wouldn’t accept anything but the truth.

“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” she said nervously. “Boran was sweet. He never bothered anybody. Sure, he liked me, and he told me that, but it never went anywhere. I already had a boyfriend.”

“So was your boyfriend in the car with the guys who were shooting?” Mann asked.

“Tyrone never found out Boran tried to talk to me,” she said defensively. “And even if he did, he’s not the kind of guy to go around shooting people over something like that.”

Mann and Coletti traded skeptical looks. The girl got even more defensive.

“Look, my boyfriend didn’t have anything to do with what happened on this block or at that church. He’s been at work since early this morning. He’s doing a double shift at the Navy Yard.”

“What’s Tyrone’s last name?” Mann said, taking out his note pad. “And what’s your name?”

The girl was about to answer when the old woman held up her hand. Everyone on the porch fell silent, including Mann and Coletti. There was something in her manner that said she knew more than all of them. It was in the way she’d listened carefully, in the way she’d waited to speak. It was even in the way she looked.

Deep wrinkles crisscrossed her face like spiderwebs. Her wiry gray hair was long and straight, wrapped neatly in a bun and secured by a mother-of-pearl comb.

When she looked up at the detectives, it was with dark eyes ringed in white. There was wisdom in those eyes, and they knew it when she started to speak.

“You know the boy had nothing to do with any of this, don’t you?” she said with a firm voice as she looked at Coletti.

“I only know what I see,” he said, sounding more certain than he felt.

“You might know what you see,” the old woman reasoned. “But you believe what you don’t see.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mann said.

“Your partner knows what it means,” said the old woman. “Every material thing disappears, but love, faith, and hope, they never go away. Neither does evil.”

The girl who’d been quiet spoke up for the first time. “Grandmom, do you know who killed them?”

“No,” she said. “But I know they saw things in that church that we all seek. They were looking for light, and whenever you do that, darkness follows.”

“How do you know that, Grandmom?”

The old woman sat back in her chair and took a deep breath. “Have you ever heard the story of the demon and the Buddha?” she asked.

The girl shook her head no.