Monk returned their shrouds to their respective chins. “The examiner is right. The causes of death are plain enough. Not that there was ever any doubt.”
Bailey used this time to cross to a table and examine the monsignor’s personal effects. Blood-stained coveralls had been neatly piled next to a pair of boots. Someone had piously wound a chain around a silver cross, forming a spiral atop the clothing.
As Bailey touched the crucifix, his shoulder sagged.
Jason hated to intrude upon the other’s grief, but he had a pressing question. “Did they ever recover Monsignor Borrelli’s phone?”
Bailey shook his head. “I reviewed the list of my friend’s belongings. There was no phone.”
Jason had hoped the attackers had abandoned the device. If he could’ve retrieved fingerprints or DNA evidence from the phone, then maybe he could’ve definitively confirmed that Valya Mikhailov was involved with all of this.
He stared over at the body of Monsignor Borrelli, picturing the deep slice across his neck. He did not doubt Seichan’s assessment aboutwho wielded that blade. He found his hands wringing together as time passed and his anxiety grew—not due to where he stood, but from one nagging certainty.
We’re running out of time.
6:35P.M.
Muffled voices rose from the hall outside the morgue.
Finally...
Jason let out the breath he had been holding. They all turned toward the door as it swung open.
Grishin led in two others. The medical examiner showed far more deference to these newcomers. The weary disdain had drained from his voice, replaced with a reverence.
“Vot ty, Yepiskop Yelagin,” Grishin said, with a slight bow of his head.
“Spasibo, Doktor,” the tall man acknowledged.
They shared a few more exchanges, then Yelagin raised a hand in a clear blessing. Afterward, Grishin backed out of the room and quietly closed the door.
Alone with the newcomers, Bailey crossed over with his arm out. “Thank you for agreeing to meet us here, Bishop Yelagin.”
The man shook Bailey’s hand. “Anything to help bring the murderers to justice.”
Jason heard the slight catch in the bishop’s voice as his gaze fell upon the two bodies behind Bailey. His face was pale above his long gray beard, his dark eyes haunted. A hand clutched the cross hanging from a chain over his black cassock.
Jason flicked a look at Bailey. It seemed the good father might have made the right choice when it came to leveraging the other’s guilt.
Bailey introduced Monk. “This is Dr. Kokkalis, a forensic pathologist with Europol.” He shifted his hand toward Jason. “And Dr. Carter, a lawyer and criminologist from the Hague, who specializes in cyber- and organized crime.”
Yelagin nodded to them both. “The Moscow Patriarchate appreciates your help in this matter.”
Jason turned his attention to the bishop’s companion. A slender woman stood a step behind Yelagin’s shoulder. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, maybe a year or two younger than Jason. She was dressed in a somber black dress that reached her ankles. Her hair was entirely covered by a discreet head scarf.
“This is Sister Anna,” Yelagin introduced the woman. “A novice with the Novodevichy Convent in Moscow.”
The woman trembled, but not due to the number of gazes turned upon her. In fact, she ignored them all. Her focus was on the bodies atop the steel tables. A small hand lifted to cover her mouth.
The reason for her distress became clear.
“Igor Koskov was her older brother,” Yelagin explained.
Jason read the ache in the pained squint of her eyes, the tremor in her raised hand, the shortness of her breaths. He suddenly wished Bailey had stuck to their original meeting place at the embassy.
Yelagin continued, “Before heading here, I was informed by Dr. Grishin that you would need a family member’s permission to examine Igor’s body. Sister Anna is his only living relative. While she could’ve transmitted that consent, she asked to see him. I could not refuse her.”
Guilt spiked through Jason. Their bit of subterfuge in luring Yelagin to the morgue had inadvertently trapped another, someone already grieving who didn’t deserve to have her suffering stepped upon.
