"Groups?"
"Yes, you know. Special study groups. Religious sects. That sort ofthing."
"We were both of the Order of Preachers, the Dominicans, if that's what you mean, but it's hardly a sect. Julien used to go rock climbing with some of the monks. He volunteered at a local library archives, cataloguing old documents. That's all I know. Nogroups."
I pick up one of the emails. It's addressed to "In Doubt" and was from someone with the handle "Brother Novae". The body of the email mentions a meeting to discuss "ThePure".
Ed rustles through the printed pages in thefile.
"Forensics found some interestinginformation in your brother's email," he says. Ed holds up an email and reads it. "He had a trip planned for the summer to France to follow the path of the Albigensian crusade. And there were a few email addresses to a group known as 'The Pure'. Do you know anything aboutthat?"
Michel shakes his head. "Trip down memory lane? Julien fought to defend the Cathars back in the day. I sided with the Church against them," Michel says. "It's old news." Michel rises. "If we're done here, the sun will rise veryshortly."
"Fine," Ed says. "Take some time to arrange things. But please, keep your phoneon."
Michel nods, and now I'm so curious about why he was out of contact for the past twenty-fourhours.
"Do you need anything?" I say, touching his arm. "Let me know how I canhelp."
Michel takes my hand, squeezing it. "I'm fine," hesays.
I know he's anythingbut.
* * *
Chapter 18
"Awounded deer leaps the highest."
EmilyDickenson
The next evening after sunset, I take a cab to the cathedral, hoping to find Antonio and ask him some questions about what happened. Once I arrive on monastery grounds, I go on foot. The noise from the distant highway has faded, and now all I hear is the sound of my thumping heart. A walk will help me relax. The events of the previous night and morning have drained me and I need theexercise.
The streets are still wet from the rain. To the north, the fog distorts the view of the cathedral buildings, deep within a small wooded area. A long wall of stone surrounds the grounds, and there, about half way up the street, sits a figure in a tangle of cardboard and plastic, a hat and muffler obscuring his face. Ed indicated that a few homeless people lived in the area so this might not be Antonio, but I forge on in hope that heis.
I draw closer and slow my pace, my gut knotting when I see Michel turning onto the sidewalk in front of me. He's facing the other direction and doesn't see me, so I hang back, wondering what he'lldo.
When Michel approaches the seated figure, the man looks up and I recognize Antonio from the curve of his nose. He shakes his hand as if demanding a coin. Michel reaches deep into his pocket and retrieves a few coins, then drops them into the outstretched palm. I join him rather than hang back and remain out of sight. I'm worried what Michel might do. It's impossible to predict the behavior of those whogrieve.
"Deo grazia." Antonio says as I join them. Michel looks at me andfrowns.
"Are you followingme?"
"No," I say, embarrassed and insulted at the same time. "I wanted to check out the crime scene. I saw you and cameover."
"You shouldn't be out alone, especially not at night. My security team has failed Isee."
He turns back to Antonio. The old man counts the coins and then closes his hand around them, placing his hand against hischest.
"Accept my condolences for your loss," hesays.
"You were here when he was murdered?" Michel clears his throat as if he finds it difficult to speak. "You saw my brother die? Did you see who killedhim?"
"Julien always gave something." The old man shakes his head. "He had a generousheart."
"Who areyou?"
"Me?" he says and shrugs. "I'm no one. But my name isAntonio."