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Back We Were Killers Once Save as PDF
Chapters (65)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty–one
  25. Twenty–two
  26. Twenty–three
  27. Twenty–four
  28. Twenty–five
  29. Twenty–six
  30. Twenty–seven
  31. Twenty–eight
  32. Twenty–nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty–one
  35. Thirty–two
  36. Thirty–three
  37. Thirty–four
  38. Thirty–five
  39. Thirty–six
  40. Thirty–seven
  41. Thirty–eight
  42. Thirty–nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty–one
  45. Forty–two
  46. Forty–three
  47. Forty–four
  48. Forty–five
  49. Forty–six
  50. Forty–seven
  51. Forty–eight
  52. Forty–nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty–one
  55. Fifty–two
  56. Fifty–three
  57. Fifty–four
  58. Fifty–five
  59. Fifty–six
  60. Fifty–seven
  61. Author’s Note
  62. Acknowledgments
  63. Also by Becky Masterman
  64. About the Author
  65. Newsletter Sign-up

At her questioning, Carlo told Gemma-Kate some stories of his time, as he called it, behind bars. He lived in the rectory of a large church in the city, and drove a dilapidated car back and forth to work every day. There he was cleared by security along with the rest of the prison staff, and had the use of a small desk in Pastor Listewnik’s office. He had visiting hours and heard confessions of the Catholic prisoners. He gave last rites on many occasions, most in the clinic where men would go to die of rotted livers and kidneys and lungs after years of chemical abuse. Once he gave last rites while kneeling in a pool of blood when an inmate had been knifed while taking a shower.

CARLO: Convicts die just like everyone else, frightened and sad that they hadn’t learned how to pray before now.

GEMMA-KATE: How long did you work there?

CARLO: Just three months.

I noticed Carlo’s answers were not so expansive as they had been at first. He wasn’t exactly curt, but hardly as forthcoming as when he talked about his youth and his family, open even about his brother, Franco, dying in prison. I think GK noticed it, too.

GEMMA-KATE: What about this Listewnik? How long did he stay at the prison? Did you keep in touch with him?

He started to cross his arms and then consciously separated them again, refusing to give in to that gesture of hiding oneself. Carlo answered only the last question. “No.”

GEMMA-KATE: No …

CARLO: No, I didn’t keep in touch with him.

GEMMA-KATE: What about your first wife? Where were you and how long were you out of the priesthood before you met her?

Carlo paused. I could see him going through possible answers as if he was talking about existentialism rather than the simple facts of his life. That was when I thought again how this was one question I had never asked.

“Gemma-Kate Quinn,” I said. “It’s a school project, not a Dr. Phil show.”

CARLO: It’s okay, love. After my prison chaplaincy I was assigned to a church as an assistant priest. I worked there for two years, and then had my own church where I worked for three more years. I was thirty years old then. So young, and yet feeling as if I’d experienced all that was possible in a lifetime. Feeling so wise. I think all young people feel that way. And yet, I had what they call a crisis of faith, which must have been brewing, but that I never acknowledged.