“Yeah.”
The door opens, it’s officer Burns - with a brown paper bag in hand.
“You bring me lunch?” asks the detective.
“Got another one.” replies Burns.
He closes the door, takes a seat and places the bag on the desk.
“Wait til you hear this.” he goes on.
“Wait til you hear this.” he goes on.
Miles removes his glasses.
“Guy just left, said it was the worst thing he’d ever seen.”
The detective leans back in his chair, interlacing his fingers behind his head.
“It’s a war picture, from a third and different shop location - about halfway through it cuts to this weird shit, two sick fucks beating an old man.”
Miles stares through the officer while he gives the rundown.
“He said they nearly kill the guy - and then - they set him on fire.”
Miles takes in a breath and exhales, lowering his arms, crossing them.
“But get this - the guy said he knows the old man.”
“Okay.” Miles responds.
“It was his father.”
A very tense and quiet moment passes.
“Well shit.”
ONE HOUR LATER
Detective Miles is seated in Father Burton’s office. The elder priest enters the room, closes the door and rests himself on the plush chair behind his desk.
“Say whatever is on your mind.”
Miles moves to the edge of his seat, leaning forward.
“Three different cases this week. People buying used videos, movies - not knowing somebody somewhere has recorded snuff films over them.”
The Father lowers his gaze to view the detective over the top of his glasses.
“I know you have contacts in - questionable places.”
“I’d like to think I serve the entire community.” Burton informs.
“If you could just, maybe keep your ear to the ground, you hear something, anything - it would help a great deal.” requests Miles.
“Such a loathsome act.” the priest replies.
Detective Miles stands and reaches out his hand. Father Burton acts in kind.
“You will be the first to know, should I come across any relevant information.”
“I appreciate that.” Miles says with a forced grin.
The two exit the office and Father Burton escorts Detective Miles to the front entrance. The older man returns to the nave, slowly making his way up the main aisle. He stops to glance a young man seated alone on a middle pew. Mid 20’s, fidgety. The man turns to see the father staring and offers a nervous smile. The Father nods and continues through the cavernous room - stepping into a confessional.
It’s only a few moments before the door to the penitent’s compartment is opened and quickly shut.
“In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.” the Father recites.
“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”
“It’s fine my son, God’s mercy is plentiful enough for us all.”
“Although, that’s not really true.”
“What’s that?” asks the Father.
“I don’t truly believe I have sinned. It’s just what the world wants me to think. So I can be overcome with guilt and grief and live a miserable life under thumb.”
“Perhaps you’d feel better to unburden yourself regardless?”
“I’m giving the world what it wants. The non-filtered, raw and untamed experience of humanity - at its worst.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Cowards, living in fear. Liars, whose every action only compounds the lies they tell themselves.”
“It does no man any measure of justice to align himself with the false light.” the Father injects.
“I take the risks, so it is I who should reap the lion’s share of the rewards!” the young man seethes.
“Please lower your voice.” Burton politely requests.
A pregnant pause settles into an uncomfortable length.
“We need to reopen discussion on further compensation.” says the young man.
“Let me tell you what is going to happen.” the priest begins.
“You are going to leave here and never return.”
The young man listens, holding his tongue.
“You will not compromise this operation, do you understand?”
The confessor is silent.
“Answer me!” the Father demands.
“I understand.”
“Your liaison will be in touch.”
Father Burton leaves the confessional and disappears into the long rear hallway.
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