Its cubicle of a living room faced a tiny back courtyard and was furnished with a reading chair, small desk, floor lamp, and bookcase, all of which looked as though they had come from a flea market. Even the books were secondhand, most of them old and dealing with historical Catholicism, with titles such as The Last Days of Papal Rome, 1850-1870, Plenarii Concilii Baltimorensis Tertii, The Church in the Christian Roman Empire.

The bedroom was sparer yet – a single, blanket-covered bed and a small chest of drawers, with lamp and telephone on top, which served as a bedside table. His closet was as meager. A suit of the classic priest's vestments – black shirt, black slacks, and black jacket all on one hanger. A pair of jeans, a plaid shirt, worn gray sweat suit, and pair of old running shoes. The chest of drawers revealed a white clerical collar, several pairs of well-worn underwear, three pairs of socks, a folded sweater, and two T-shirts, one with the logo of Providence College.

'Everything just as he left it when he went to Assisi,' Farel said quietly.

'Where were the cartridges?'

Farel led him into the bathroom and opened the door of an ancient commode. Inside were several drawers, all of which had locks that had been pried open, presumably by the police.

'The bottom drawer. In the back behind some toilet tissue.'

Harry stared for a moment, then turned and walked slowly back through the bedroom and into the living room. On the top shelf of the bookcase there was a hot plate he hadn't noticed before. Beside it was a lone cup with a spoon in it, and next to that a jar of instant coffee. That was it. No kitchen, no stove, no refrigerator. It was the kind of place he might have rented as a freshman at Harvard, when he had no money at all and was enrolled only because he'd earned an academic scholarship.

'His voice-'

Harry turned. Farel stood in the bedroom doorway watching him, his shaved head looking suddenly too large and disproportionate to his body.