didnât answer.
âSo how long did you stay?â
âThey had guests, and I saw I was holding them back. My presence seemed to remind them of what Christmas was supposed to be. I was making everyone uncomfortable. So I stayed for an hour, perhaps an hour and a half, and then I left. I drove back to town and parked at the Cathedral.â
âSo what time did you get back to the Cathedral?â
âAround 5.30, maybe six oâclock, I suppose. But I didnât want to go in. I decided to go for a walk. Around Old Montreal mostly, it was beautiful, very quiet and peaceful. There was hardly any traffic. Walking through the old streets I felt that I was back in a Quebec of the past. In a Quebec that still believed in Christ. It was comforting.â The priest drifted off, remembering his walk, Vanier waited for him to come back.
âSo what did you want to see me about, Inspector?â
âI am investigating the deaths of five homeless people on Christmas Eve. Your name came up as someone who might know the victims.â
âIâve seen the newspapers. You think they were killed, Inspector?â
âI didnât say that. Right now, I donât think anything. I just want to find out who these people were. Weâve got their names, but we donât know anything about them. I thought you could give us some information about who they were.â
Vanier sat back into the chair like someone with nowhere to go, but desperately in need of a rest. He stared at the wall, giving Drouin room to talk.
Drouin waited.
Vanier barely stirred. âIâm tired. Maybe itâs the season,â he said, almost to himself. âThis time of the year is difficult for many people, isnât it, Father?â
Drouin was lost in thought and didnât respond immediately. Finally he said, âIt should be a time of rejoicing.â
âI havenât been rejoicing. You know what I have been doing? Iâve been pulling corpses out of holes. At this time of year, who wants to do that? But you know what keeps me going? These people were daughters and sons, maybe sisters or brothers. Maybe they even had children, grown children. Grown children celebrating Christmas in their own families while their mother or father slept on the street. Did anyone spend a few seconds this Christmas wondering where any of these people were? Christmas is a time for families isnât it, Father Drouin? No matter how dysfunctional. And yet they all died alone. I suppose thatâs what hit me the most. Five deaths in one night, and they all died alone. That shouldnât happen at Christmas.â
Vanier sat up and pulled the pack of photographs out of the envelope. He laid each of them out on the table in front of Drouin.
âDo you recognize any of these people?â
Drouin leaned over and examined each photo carefully. âYes, Inspector. I know all of them.â He began pointing to each photograph. âCéline, Joe Yeoman, Madame Latendresse, Pierre Brun, and George Morissette. They were all what we call clients. I ministered to them. Itâs hard to believe they are all dead in one night.â
âYou donât seem shocked.â
âI am beyond shock, Inspector. When I saw the reports in the newspapers I knew that I would probably know some of them. I donât know whatâs happening. I have to believe that God is at work. But He knows so many ways to test us poor humans.â
Vanier pulled a pen out of his pocket and began writing as Drouin talked, scribbling bits and pieces of information of the lives of the unknown. Even though the interview was being taped, he felt compelled to take notes, to write things down. Scribbling scraps of information in an effort to create individuals where before there had been only empty space, to make people out of corpses.
Laurent watched through the two-way mirror as Drouin released every scrap of information he had on the five.