Tabula Rasa

Chapter 38

Matt crept into the church basement as the congregation upstairs were finishing the first hymn. He removed his mask and walked slowly through the cold, dusty crypt as the muffled voices above his head sang out to God. He ran his gloved hand down the wing of one of the angel statues, then sat on the stone steps and made the sign of the cross.

It was Christmas Eve, and he was here for midnight mass.

He bowed his head and listened as the song finished and the priest started the service, his voice carrying an echo from the vaulted ceilings of the church.

"Grace, mercy and peace

from God our Father

and the Lord Jesus Christ

be with you"

"And also with you," Matt murmured automatically, the response a reflex after so many years.

It wasn't the first time he'd attended a service from the shadows, hidden away from the other parishioners. He preferred it this way. His faith was a private thing. A personal thing, that didn't rely on community and shared worship.

All he'd ever needed was a quiet, hallowed space like this...and the counsel of his priest.

Who was gone now.

It had been more than six months since Father Lantom had been murdered, and Matt still felt the loss acutely. Especially tonight. He was feeling more than a little despondent, and could have used the older man's guidance.

They hadn't made a single bit of headway on the pheromone case. And the lack of progress with that was stalling any and all attempts to mount an appeal for Margaret Posen. Matt was reduced to witnessing the effects of the drug from the sidelines again, with no leads to follow and no way to stop its spread. Every night spent out on the streets was an exercise in futility...and it was eating away at him. Chipping away at his resilience and weakening any sense of hope that he could make a difference in this city.

And he missed Calina.

God, he missed her so much.

It had been almost three weeks since he'd last seen her. Three weeks since that single ring of the burner phone had let him know she was okay. And despite his best attempts to carry on with his life and put a brave face on for Karen and Foggy, her absence was a dark pit inside him that was growing with every day.

If he had Calina to come home to every night, he could cope with the lack of progress on the investigation. If he had leads to follow on the case, they would keep him busy enough to distract him from her loss.

But he had neither. Nothing in his life was working. And it made him feel like complete and utter shit.

He dropped his head in his hands and groaned at the sound of the buoyant carol being sung above his head.

Coming here had been a mistake.

"Someone's full of festive cheer I see."

Matt huffed out a laugh at the unexpected sarcasm. "Hi, Maggie."

The sound of sensible flat shoes tapped down the stone steps as she came closer. And when she took a seat next to him, she lay a hesitant hand on his shoulder. "Hello, Matthew."

"How'd you know I'd be down here."

"Just a hunch."

Matt sighed. "I'm sorry I've not been around much."

She shrugged. "I took it as a good sign. The last time you were here you asked if I'd take over the role of guiding you from Father Lantom. The fact that you never came...I hoped it meant that you didn't need any help."