Perfect Evil by Alex Kava

Author:Alex Kava [Kava, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller, Horror, Suspense, Romance, Adult
ISBN: 9781552543917
Amazon: B009031SBI
Barnesnoble: B009031SBI
Goodreads: 390305
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2000-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 44

Father Francis gathered the newspaper clippings and slid them into his leather portfolio. He stopped, held up his hands and stared at the brown spots, the bulging blue veins and the trembling that had become commonplace.

It had only been three months since Ronald Jeffreys’ execution. Three months since he had listened to the confession of the real killer. He could no longer keep silent. He could no longer preserve the sanctity of a killer’s confession. Maybe it wouldn’t make a difference, but he had convinced himself that it was the right thing to do.

He shuffled down the hall to the church. His footsteps were the only sound echoing off the majestic walls. No one waited for confession. It would be a quiet morning. Still, he entered the small confessional.

Despite his having seen no one in the church, the door in the black cubicle next to him opened within minutes. Father Francis sat up and laid his elbow on the shelf, allowing himself to lean closer to the wire-mesh window between the two small rooms.

“Bless me, Father, for I have killed again.”

Oh, dear God. The panic came crashing against the old priest’s chest. It was difficult to breathe. Suddenly, the small, wooden box had only hot and stale air. The throbbing began in his ears. Father Francis strained to see beyond the thick wire mesh that separated them. All he could see, though, was a huddled black shadow.

“I killed Danny Alverez and Matthew Tanner. For these sins, I am truly sorry and ask forgiveness.”

The voice was disguised, barely audible, as if forced through a mask. Was there anything, anything at all, that he could recognize?

“What is my penance?” the voice wanted to know.

Could he speak if he could not breathe?

“How can…” It was difficult. His chest ached. “How can I absolve you of your sins…heinous, horrible sins…if you only intend to do them again?”

“No, y-you don’t understand. I only bring them peace,” the voice sputtered. He obviously hadn’t come prepared for a confrontation, Father Francis realized with some degree of satisfaction. He had come only for absolution and to do his penance.

“I cannot absolve you of your sins if you intend to only go out and do it again.” Father Francis’ strong, unflinching voice surprised him.

“You must…you have to.”

“I absolved you once before, and you’ve made a mockery of the sacrament by committing the sin again, not once but twice.”

“I am truly sorry for my sins and ask forgiveness from God,” he tried again, mechanically saying the phrase like a child memorizing it for the first time.

“You must prove your remorse,” Father Francis said, suddenly feeling powerful. Perhaps he could influence this black shadow, make him face his demons, stop him once and for all. “You must show your repentance.”

“Yes. Yes, I will. Just tell me what my penance is.”

“Go prove your repentance and come back in a month.”

There was a pause.

“You aren’t absolving me?”

“If you can prove your worthiness by not killing, I will consider absolving you then.”

“You will not give me absolution?”

“Come back in a month.

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