Detective Diego Martinez was sleeping comfortably in his bed. His wife Melinda was beside him, also asleep, her arm casually resting on her man's bicep. Not far from their marital bed were two cribs where their eighteen-month-old twin girls slept. Two mobiles made of stars and clouds swayed slowly over their pretty doll faces.

On the edge of the bedside table, a phone lit up and then began to ring. Diego half-opened his eyes with a grunt of displeasure, his arm shot out from under the covers and he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Detective, this is dispatch. We have a break-in with an injury at St. Catherine's Church."

"At the church? Is it a desecration?" asked Diego still half asleep.

"Negative, a kidnapping. An ambulance and a patrol are already on the way."

"Okay."

Diego hung up, got out of bed, and grabbed his clothes. The movement woke his wife Melinda, who asked in a sluggish voice, "What's going on?"

"Nothing, dear," he said in a soft voice. "I'm on call, remember?"

Melinda rolled over and went back to sleep. Leaving her to her dreams, Diego dressed quickly and headed for the kitchen. He looked at the clock on the stove and sighed: it was 4:12 a.m. He loved his job deeply. Whether it was helping people or investigating, he enjoyed it. The paperwork didn't bother him too much. No, if there was only one thing he could change, it would be the nights he was on call in winter.

Diego filled the coffee pot and turned it on. He could take five minutes, the time the officers put up the police tape and took care of the injured. Waiting for the coffee in his kitchen, he began to think. A kidnapping in a church? It was original... surely drug addicts again, there was only them to cause problems at this hour of the night. The city really had to give the police the green light to rid the ghetto of the drug ring that was thriving there. Things were getting worse and worse by the day. Unfortunately, the mayor was more of a risk-averse person, especially in this re-election period.

The coffee pot rang. Diego poured himself a cup with lots of sugar, he needed it to keep his brain working properly. Then he put the rest in a thermos. He stayed in the kitchen for another ten minutes, sipping his hot coffee in silence.

For people happy in madness,

The bitter winter isn't chilling

Who else was he than a madman to leave his family at this hour of the night, and out in the cold? At least the church was not far away, he would be there in less than twenty minutes. Diego put his cup in the sink and went to get his service weapon and his coat. It was an elegant black officer's trench-coat that his wife had given him when he was promoted to inspector. Then, without forgetting his thermos, he got into his car.

There was no one on the road, but Diego put on the flashing light anyway to get through the intersections faster. He was a man in his mid-thirties, Latino type, always quiet. He had piercing black eyes, hair of the same color, and a mustache that gave him a slightly retro look. This could impress some suspects on occasion.

The church was in sight. Detective Diego parked near the ambulance and turned off the flashing light. He had barely stepped out of the car when a full-figured police officer waved as he walked toward him.

"Hi Sherlock," he said to Diego. "Sorry to drag you out of bed."

"Hi Jerry," the detective replied. "The night is cold, isn't it? I brought a thermos of coffee for you and the guys. What have we got?"

"Leonard Duprat, a man in his forties, knife wounds and candle wax torture. Plus, he hasn't eaten in several days, not fit to talk until tomorrow. There is also his nephew Rafael with his friend Jay, who supposedly came to rescue the victim from the priest who was holding him prisoner."

"Candle wax torture?" asked Diego, raising an eyebrow. "That's some BDSM stuff, are we sure this Leonard guy didn't consent?"

It wouldn't be the strangest thing in his career. He had once arrested a woman who had repeatedly tried to rape a famous illuionist in his dressing room. She wanted to have a child with him who would inherit his magical powers. The poor man had been traumatized and had to change jobs, he had also kept a phobic fear of women ever since, and would probably be single for life.

"I don't think so," Jerry replied. "BDSM is one thing, but you'd really have to be nuts to agree to stay locked up for several days without eating."

"Since when do we deal with sane people in our business?" laughed Diego. "Are the kids on drugs?"

Jerry shrugged. "They don't look like it Sherlock, but they are weird. Strange atmosphere around them. Anyway, you'll see for yourself."

Yes, it was time to get started. Diego decided to begin by inspecting the scene of the crime to get a better idea of the situation. He passed under the police tape and entered the sacristy. His inquisitive eyes scanned every object while his mind recorded everything. He noticed first that there was a faint smell of pepper residue in the air, and far too many candles for it to be normal.

Forensics would examine the residue when it was daytime, but Diego already had his suspicions as to what it might be. He continued his inspection and examined the cubby-hole behind the confessional. A gag and cords stained with dried blood lay on the floor, evidence of the crime that had been committed there. He bet that Leonard was blindfolded as well and that he had not seen anything. Kidnapped by the priest, huh? Why would a man of the cloth do that? Diego walked out of the sacristy and back to the police officers.

"Hey Jerry, I'm going to talk to them now."

"Who do you want to start with Sherlock?"

"With the nephew, intel?"

"Rafael Duprat, eighteen years old, that's all I have" Jerry replied. "Do you think we'll take them into custody? They seem like good kids to me..."

Diego didn't answer and waited for Jerry to get Rafael out of the police car where he was waiting. The inspector discovered an alert young man, looking intelligent, but with distrust in his eyes.

Okay, not a drug addict, but he has something to hide, Diego thought.

"So young man," the inspector said. "Can you explain to me what you were doing in a church at this hour?"

Rafael shrugged. "I was trying to save my uncle. That priest had kidnapped him!"

"That's what I was told, yes," Diego agreed. "How did you know he was there?"

Rafael swallowed silently, but this movement had not escaped the inspector. Here we go, not a very honest nephew. He was about to speak again to put pressure on him when Rafael started to talk:

"My uncle had been missing for several days, I reported it to the police but you did nothing! So when I found a church flyer at his apartment, I came to look for him. Then, I thought I heard Leonard's voice coming from the back of the church, I wanted to go there but I ran into this half-crazed priest who threatened me, so I came back during the night."

That's right he heard his voice despite the gag, this crook is fucking with me...

"Okay," Diego without letting anything of his thoughts show. "And how did you get into the church tonight?"

Rafael's eyes went to the top right of his eyes for a brief moment. "Uhh, the sacristy door was open, we just walked in."

Of course, when you hold someone against their will, you always leave the doors open.

The kid looked smart, but obviously he hadn't thought much about his story. That's why Diego liked to question suspects directly at the scene of the crime, they were often still too caught up in the events to think through their answers, or to agree on their version.

"Okay," said the detective, as impassive as ever. "Explain to me why this priest would kidnap your uncle? Did he want a ransom perhaps?"

"No," Rafael explained, "I think it's because he mistook him for my grandfather, they didn't like each other and maybe the priest wanted revenge or something... Hard to say, he really lost his mind!"

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Rafael suddenly seemed more confident. Was it because he had told the truth or because he had repeated the answer to that question? Probably the truth, Diego decided, looking at his eyes. It was both not very convincing and easy to verify. Which he would do anyway.

The ambulance started up and headed for the hospital, with Leonard in it. The headlights shone on Rafael's face for a moment and Diego was startled. He hadn't noticed it in the dark, but the young man's skin was unusually red. This case was getting weirder and weirder...

"Why is your skin that color?" he asked.

"I was under the UV machine for too long," Rafael answered with aplomb.

The young man hadn't even blinked. The moment had passed now, and he wouldn't let himself be destabilized so easily again. Diego smiled quietly, he had never liked the soft way anyway.

"You know what I think?" he said suddenly. "I think you and your friend are the kidnappers. That's why you knew your uncle was there, that's why you had the key to the vestry, maybe that's why your skin is singed too. You played with candles, huh?"

Rafael opened his mouth, he looked surprised and scared at the same time. That didn't stop Diego from continuing:

"You're a crook, you called the police because your little game was over, nothing more. I don't know if the priest is your scapegoat or your accomplice, I don't know why you did this to your uncle either, but I know you're hiding something from me and I intend to get to the bottom of it."

Rafael's brow was wrinkled with anger. "You're bluffing. I'm not a crook, I came to free my uncle and the priest tried to kill us! His dagger crucifix must still be in the sacristy, under one of the pieces of furniture. It was a close call."

Diego stared at his suspect for a long moment. Rafael looked sincere. And he had smelled pepper spray residue in the air which suggested an altercation. After all, there were exceptions to the rule that said that the culprit was a relative of the victim. Diego signaled Jerry to come get Rafael and bring Jay to him instead.

The interrogation was singularly different with this one. He was not opposed, nor was he afraid, no expectations whatsoever… as if he had already been confronted by the police and deeply disappointed by the experience. Diego didn't like this feeling. It gave him the unpleasant impression that some of his colleagues had done their job badly. In any case, there wasn't much to learn from Jay. He seemed to have a very bad memory and didn't remember anything...

Jay joined Rafael in the car, and Jerry came back to him rubbing his hands, a vain attempt to warm them. The sky was less dark and the stars could no longer be seen, but the first light of day wasn't yet there.

"So Sherlock," he asked. "Almost done?"

"Just something to check on," Diego replied.

The inspector went back into the sacristy. There he got down on his stomach to inspect the underside of the furniture with his flashlight. He took his time to make sure he didn't miss anything. Patiently. Carefully. His efforts finally paid off, under a shelf wedged between the wall and the confessional was the dagger crucifix Rafael had mentioned.

Diego took a plastic bag used to preserve evidence and grabbed the weapon. The pommel was artistically carved with culrs, but the edge was razor sharp... it was certainly not a decorative or ceremonial object. One point for the nephew. There were still many grey areas in this story, but the priest's involvement seemed more and more likely.

Diego had never liked men of the cloth. He was a man of science and logic, religion was nothing more than superstition in his eyes. On the other hand, his wife Melinda was very religious, and the reverence she showed for men in robes had always seemed unhealthy to him. Fortunately, she didn't go to St. Catherine's but to another congregation closer to the center of town: the Church of the Covenant.

That the superstition of one of these lunatics had become fanaticism did not surprise him that much. He would have expected more cases, actually. Maybe the candle burns were part of a purification ritual or some such bullshit. Diego came out of the sacristy and handed the dagger crucifix to Jerry.

"Do we have a name for the priest?" asked the inspector.

"Gregory Cordier, it's on the church flyers. Nothing in the files."

Diego nodded, thoughtful. "Get me his address. And prepare a wanted notice, my guess is we won't find him at his house."

"What do we do about the kids?"

"They're hiding something, but there's no point in pushing it right now. Let them go home. I'll see them again later if needed, after I've had a chance to talk with the victim."

Not a drug addict, nor a crook, but a priest who has lost his mind. You don't see that often.

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Gregory watched the police cars parked in front of his church shaking with cold and rage. He hadn't even had time to grab a coat when he ran away, and his eyes were still stinging from the pepper spray the devil worshipper had used. It shouldn't have happened like this, he was doing God's work!

The policemen were questioning the two Lucifer agents, but those mundanes wouldn't be able to do a thing, they were not equipped to recognize or to fight against the demonic forces. No, he was alone, and now that Rafael had the opportunity to corrupt the police with his lies he had to be even more discreet than before.

Rafael! Rafael! His name alone was an offense. How dare he impersonate one of God's closest angels? Blasphemy! He should have known about the deception as soon as he saw him the day before, and not let him go. Dogs don't make cats. The grandfather was wicked, the uncle was a heretic spreading ungodly ideas... Rafael was bound to be connected with Satan. They were alike in body and spirit. He had had a moment of weakness and had allowed himself to be softened by the demon's apparent youth, but this would not happen again.

Fortunately, he was not alone, the angel of light that had appeared to him during the Christmas mass never left. God had elected him, he was the chosen one who had come to Earth to protect the flock from eternal evil. The magical moment when the bond was made still shone in Gregory's mind. He was surrounded by candles, the faithful were singing, and the light from the stained glass windows shimmered on him. Some of the flock had fainted as he approached, reaching ecstasy simply by being close to him. He was still shivering at the memory, it was certainly not the effect of the cold, he was touched by divine grace!

The ambulance left for the hospital, only the police officers were left with the devil worhsipper and his accomplice. Gregoy had to submit them to the ordeal, and administer the punishment reserved for heretics. He had made a mistake with Leonard, he had believed that he could save him, purify him from the influence of evil. He was delusional! The only way to purify him was through blood.

Of course, he was not supposed to kill anyone without a papal dispensation, but his case was an exception. He was the armed arm of God, specifically chosen by His angel of light to carry out His mission. Not to mention the fact that Rafael and Leonard were so corrupted that they were probably not even human anymore!

Gregory arm's was numb, he shook it and ants went up to his skull. Then a sharp pain shot through his chest. He had been having these symptoms for several days now: God was speaking to him, this was his punishment for failing to punish His enemies. He had to do penance for his sins again, and make himself worthy of His heavenly blessing.

Then, with the divine powers of the angel of light, he would exact divine vengeance on the devil worshippers. Their days were numbered.