Black Diamond by John F. Dobbyn

Even Danny’s death took second chair to an almost hopeless concern for little Erin.
    I busied myself with phone calls and coffee breaks. There was a brief due in a week in another case, but I couldn’t focus enough gray cells to put it together.
    Just before Julie left for the day, she took a phone call. She came to the door of my office to say it directly.
    â€œHe didn’t give his name. He didn’t want to talk to you. He just wanted me to give you a message.”
    â€œAnd the message was?”
    â€œMichael, I don’t like this. I got chills just listening to that voice. I think you should ignore it.”
    â€œJulie, I can’t ignore it if I don’t hear it. What’s the message?”
    â€œHe just said, ‘Tell the lawyer. Last pew, right side, Saint Anthony Shrine, Arch Street. Tonight, six thirty.’”
    â€œThat’s it? Did he mention the name, Erin?”
    â€œThat’s all of it. He hung up. If you want my advice, which you don’t, don’t go there.”
    â€œNo Problem, Julie. I know who it is. He’s harmless.”
    I never lie to my secretary, except when it’s necessary to subdue her mothering instincts. This time, it took a bit of method acting. I was sure it was Scully, and no one had called him “harmless” since he left the crib.
    By six thirty, the sun was well down. The Franciscan Friars who administer what is locally know as the Church on Arch Street a few blocks from our office had said the last Mass for the day. The back of the church was in a hushed darkness and empty except for a few late drop-ins and homeless dozers.
    I welcomed the comforting peace that pervades that church. It was an antidote to the sense of personal dread I felt for both myself and Erin. I took a seat a couple of pews from the rear on the right side and settled into an internal communication with the Lord to whom I prayed for something to break the standstill.
    Five minutes into the first rest I’d felt in days, a low voice behind me that sounded like gravel and sandpaper brought me straight up.
    â€œSit down, lawyer. Keep lookin’ straight.”
    I did. “What is it, Scully? Are you going to kill me here in church?”
    â€œYou’ll probably be dead before this ends, but not at my hand.”
    Since my question had not been rhetorical, the answer unclenched my fingers a bit on the front of the pew.
    â€œThen what do you want? Like you said, you’re holding the cards.”
    â€œNot me. I’m not your problem. I want out.”
    I went from the last prayer I thought I’d say on this earth to a state of total confusion.
    â€œOut of what? And what have I got to do with it?”
    â€œJust listen. I’m no choirboy. I’ve done things that might shock the father over there in the confessional. But I’ve got my limits.”
    â€œSuch as.”
    I could hear him shifting around on the pew behind me. He leaned forward until I could feel his breath.
    â€œI had no part in kidnapping the girl.”
    â€œReally. Wasn’t that you staking out the Ryan’s house the day I came there?”
    â€œI followed orders. I was told to watch the woman to see if she went to the police. That’s all.”
    â€œWhose orders? Boyle didn’t even recognize the Ryan name. I thought you worked for him.”
    â€œI’ll say what I’ve got to say, and no more. Boyle had no part in the girl either.”
    â€œThen who did? Who am I dealing with?”
    â€œI don’t know all of it. And that’s the truth. I can give you a name. That’s my part of the deal.”
    â€œWhat deal? Why the change? The last time we met you nearly decapitated me.”
    â€œI want no part of the doin’s with the little girl. But you with your nosin’ around. You’ll suck me into the whole business till you brand me a kidnapper and worse. Like I said, I want out of the whole