Deakins looked from one detective to the other. "You're serious."
"The pattern fits, Captain. Nothing else does," Goren explained.
"Do you have a suspect?"
"Not yet. But I think a stake out of St Cecelia's next week is in order."
"When the next body is due... You think he'll make another dump at St. Cecelia's?"
Goren nodded. "We think he's panicking, and St. Cecelia's is a familiar and comfortable place for him."
"It's all we have," Eames added. She was trusting her partner and they had not mentioned their most recent conversation with the parish secretary. They both knew Deakins would have told them to bring Father Sean in, and Goren had convinced her, at least for the time being, that Father Sean was not their man.
"I was hoping you would get this all figured out before another body is discovered," the captain commented.
Goren looked frustrated. He shrugged and held his hands out. "We'll do our best. We have the profile. We have the MO. We have the parishioner list. But we don't have a suspect to fit any of it."
"Are you even sure this guy is a parishioner?"
For a minute, Goren looked lost. "No."
Deakins sighed, studying his most brilliant detective. If there was a way to find this guy, Goren was the one who could do it. "Ok. Do what you can, and if you are still empty-handed when the time comes, go ahead with the stake out."
They left the office. He dropped his portfolio onto the desk and flopped into his chair. Eames looked at him. He looked better. He was no longer beginning to drift beyond her reach. "We'd better be right about this, Bobby."
He looked up at her. 'We.' His face relaxed into an appreciative smile. "We are, Eames."
She was happy to see not just the smile, but the glow in his eyes. He felt more in control now. She watched him as he flipped open his portfolio and returned to the files. He was no longer consumed by them. They were close…all they had to do was find the suspect.
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One of the detectives called across the room. "Goren, line two."
He picked up the phone. "Goren."
"Detective, this is Father Sean. Mrs. Dunbarton said you wanted to talk with me."
"Yes, Father. Can we come out to talk with you now?"
"I have Mass in a half hour. I can talk to you after that."
"We'll see you then."
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Father Sean sat behind his desk and looked at the two detectives as they took the chairs in front of him. "What can I help you with?"
"The Ten Commandments."
"What about them?"
Goren leaned his head to the left. "You know what I'm talking about, Father. That…that was what you were trying to tell me, after we found the seventh body…when you told me to look at the murders…and think."
"You're a smart man, Detective. A thinker."
"You have no idea, Father," Eames put in.
Father Sean sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I did not violate my oath by what I told you."
"I know that," Goren agreed. "No one thinks you did. But that is what you were pointing us toward." The priest met his eyes, but he didn't say anything. Goren leaned forward, his face intense. "Does another man have to die for us to catch this killer?"
Father Sean leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. When he looked back at the detectives, there were tears in his eyes. "You have to understand me, Detective Goren. I am not trying to be difficult. You have no idea how much this has been eating at me."
"Yes, he does, Father," Eames said quietly. "He does understand, and he has been as troubled as you have."
The priest closed his eyes again. Both of them could see his pain when he looked at them. "I can imagine and I am sorry. I bear the burden of that as well. But I cannot tell you anything more, not even to save the life of another…not even to save my own life. The Church is very clear about this, and I am bound by those laws."
"What about our laws?" Eames asked.
"The laws of God supercede the laws of men."
She was frustrated from talking in circles and angry at what this had been doing to her partner and, by extension, to her. "Does obstruction of justice mean anything to you, Father? What about prison?"
"Eames…" Goren said gently. She sat back, fuming. He turned his attention back to the priest. "Father Sean, do you realize that every one of our victims has come to you for counseling in the last year?"
The color drained from the priest's face. "No…"
Goren handed him the list. He read through it once, then twice. A look of horrified guilt settled on his face. "I'm sorry, detectives. I…I really need to go."
"He was here, wasn't he? He was staying here, or at least he was here a lot of the time. He knew the comings and goings of people in the parish, who came to see you and why…he overheard, or read the files…and you had no idea…"
Father Sean looked like he was going to be sick. "Really, I have to go. I…you know the way out."
He left the office quickly. Goren looked at his partner. She shook her head. "He never knew. No wonder he looked sick." They headed out of the rectory. "Ok, I admit it, you were right. I don't think Father Sean has played any part in these murders."
"It's not about being right. It's about catching this guy."
"Well, we know a lot more than we did this morning," she pointed out.
"Yeah, almost everything…except who he is."