Chapters (65)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty–one
- Twenty–two
- Twenty–three
- Twenty–four
- Twenty–five
- Twenty–six
- Twenty–seven
- Twenty–eight
- Twenty–nine
- Thirty
- Thirty–one
- Thirty–two
- Thirty–three
- Thirty–four
- Thirty–five
- Thirty–six
- Thirty–seven
- Thirty–eight
- Thirty–nine
- Forty
- Forty–one
- Forty–two
- Forty–three
- Forty–four
- Forty–five
- Forty–six
- Forty–seven
- Forty–eight
- Forty–nine
- Fifty
- Fifty–one
- Fifty–two
- Fifty–three
- Fifty–four
- Fifty–five
- Fifty–six
- Fifty–seven
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Becky Masterman
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
Beaufort asked, “Have you had any thoughts about where to look for this thing?”
“Lots of thoughts. But here’s one. One of my thoughts was, who do you make a confession to?” Meadows said.
“My defense attorney?”
Meadows shook his head and fixed his gaze on Beaufort in a score-one look. “Your priest.”
“Hah,” Beaufort said. “My priest.”
“I tracked down the name of the chaplain at Lansing during the time just before Hickock’s and Smith’s execution.”
“So you think this chaplain has a confession?”
“He said no. No, you’re interested in Hickock and Smith, you should take a look at the Kansas Historical Society Archives. It’s all online.”
Beaufort shook his head and put a look on his face that he hoped wouldn’t show too much interest, letting his eyelids drop a little, but Meadows ignored it.
“They have all the documents associated with Hickock’s and Smith’s stay at Lansing prison. I had gone over and over those things without noticing this one until recently. In his final days Hickock asked for a priest to hear his confession.”
Meadows went on, “He sent a letter to Warden Sherman Crouse. Now, get this, he was specific about wanting a Catholic priest, not the Protestant chaplain connected to the prison at the time. The letter says it’s because Catholic priests hold confessions in a higher regard than Protestants.”
Beaufort wanted to ask the name of the priest, but he did not.
“In addition, Hickock asked that the confession not be recorded as prisoner conversations often were. He didn’t want anyone else to hear what he told the priest. And Warden Sherman Crouse sent a letter back agreeing to this.”
With a tilt of his head that disdained the detective’s research, Beaufort risked saying only “So we’ll never know what Hickock confessed to, or whether it changes the original confession.”
Now Meadows delivered his final thrust because he couldn’t stand not to. “I know the name of the priest.”
Come on, give me a lead. “But he’s dead, right?”
“Nope, and he’s not even far from here. Priests are like the rest of retirees, they all move to Florida. He’s living at a Dominican abbey.”
Give me a name, for God’s sake. Beaufort struggled to get control over his lips, which were jumping around on their own accord. He clamped his hand over his mouth and forced out a single word between his fingers. “So.”