“Yes. I’ve spoken to Eloise. I’ll speak with her tonight. Now, about the gun-”

“No gun found at the murder site or anywhere in the church or within a two-block radius of Saint Bartholomew’s, but the coroner extracted a twenty-two-caliber bullet from the concrete wall behind the confessional. So the bullet passed through your brother, out the confessional, and another six feet to the wall, not very deep, just about an eighth of an inch into the wall, and it was in pretty good shape. Our ballistics guy, Zopp-yeah, that’s really his name, Edward Zopp-was on it right away. The thing is, you know, your brother was a priest, a very active, well-liked priest, and that’s got priority over about everything else going on. The bullet was intact enough to weigh and measure, and Zopp was very happy about that. Usually it’s not the case. Zopp said he counted the grooves and the land, and determined, of all things, that the gun is probably a JC Higgins model eighty or a Hi Standard model one-oh-one-both of those weapons are really close.”

“Yeah, and they’re also pretty esoteric. Neither of them is made anymore, but they’re not hard to find, and they’re not valuable. They’re cheap, in fact.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Also Zopp told us it was weird because it’s like the same gun the Zodiac killer used back in the late sixties and early seventies. Ain’t that something? You remember, the guy was never caught.”

“You’re thinking there could be some sort of connection?”

Delion shook his head. “Nope. We’re wondering if maybe our perp is an admirer of the Zodiac killer. Hey, it’s a real long shot, but we’ll see. Since we got the bullet, when we find the gun, we’ll be able to match it for the DA.”

Dane sat back in his chair and looked down at his wing tips. He hated this, hated it to his soul, but he had to ask. “Angle of entry?”