James stood in the entryway, pensive. “Explanations Mr. Kelley, now.” He pointed emphatically at the couch Olivier had been sitting on before.
Olivier nodded and took a seat. “Please, Mr. Wilks, sit, or get a drink. Whatever you need to keep it together. I have a few more questions.”
James tensed, blood rushing to his head.
Olivier held up a hand. “So I know where to start with the explanation, please, Mr. Wilks.”
James fumed but made his way to the hearth and a waiting glass of port resting on the mantle.
Olivier cleared his throat and opened his notebook. “I noted a lack of religious iconography in your home. No personal talismans or jewelry on either of you, as well. Do you have a background with any religion or neighbors that have perhaps shared religious experiences?”
Elizabeth sat up, fully attentive for the first time. “James was raised Catholic but hadn’t seen the inside of a cathedral since his Confirmation. My family is culturally Jewish Armenian, but I’d not considered the faith of my people. That is, until I became pregnant with Laura.”
James refreshed his port and Elizabeth’s wine. He paced self-consciously as she continued.
“I was sixty-one at the time. A few abortions in the late 70s. Not all of them with the benefit of medical staff. When it came time to want children, I was told there was irrevocable damage.” She took a drink and gestured for another cigarette.
Olivier pulled a lighter from his bag. “Yours was compromised a bit earlier, here.” He lit her cigarette and James finally sat down.
Elizabeth took a short drag inhaling through her nostrils, comforted by the smell more than the nicotine. “We gave up the though of children as we passed through our 40s. Adoption was considered but we were busy with careers. It never felt like a priority. Then one day I visited my GP with a shortness of breath, dizzy spells and was told I was with child. Laura is our little miracle baby…” Elizabeth drifted off in a jagged sob and curled up on the couch once more.
James held a weak smile for his wife’s benefit, sighed, and continued, “I returned to my childhood parish. I’ve lived in Georgetown almost my whole life, save a few years of travel and college. I was excited to have a child in my life and drawn to give her the same traditions I had grown up with.”
Olivier took diligent, rapid notes throughout the explanation but snapped the notebook closed suddenly. “Mr. Wilks, I asked you for a list of names earlier. I’ll still need that, but I assume that the priest of your childhood parish is one of the people on there?”
James nodded. “Father O’Hugh. He was my second call after the police and emergency services had come and gone.”
Olivier reopened his notes. “Laura turned seven how long ago?”
James looked at a calendar by the door and mouthed numbers as he counted. “Her birthday was in September, so nearly two months now.”
Olivier pressed the point, “Reuniting with your traditions, you had her baptized shortly after birth?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Did she take her first communion or complete her Confirmation?”
James looked to Elizabeth. She shook her head. James pounded his leg with a fist. “I wanted to be present for that. We didn’t attend church, but we donated time and money to their social efforts. I worked a few weekends on charity fundraisers and the like to get O’Hugh to agree to let us have the ceremony. He would have preferred Elizabeth convert and that I renew my own communion, but we didn’t see the point. As excited as we were for our child, we wanted the cultural milestone, we didn’t…” he paused and looked to Elizabeth again, “We aren’t people of faith.”