Cross Country (2011)
“"Thank you for seeing me," I said. "And for all of this. I was hungry." We were sharing a meal of kudu, squash, salad, and a South African Zinfandel over the expansive desk in his office. The priest's tiny body was all the more dwarfed by a high-backed chair and the floor-to-ceiling windows looming behind him. Heavy red drapes kept out all but two slits of fading evening light.
"What happened to your face?" he asked me and actually seemed concerned. "Or should I ask, 'What happened to the other man?' " I'd almost forgotten how I looked. The nose had stopped hurting somewhere around Ghana.
"Shaving accident," I told him and forced a crooked smile.
I didn't want to give one more person a reason to think I should go home on the next available plane. What I needed were allies, not more advice.
"Father, I've gotten some disturbing information about a killer called the Tiger. Do you think it's possible that there is more than one Tiger? Maybe operating in different locations? Like here and ...in the US?" "All things are possible, of course," he said with a kind smile.MoreLess
"What happened to your face?" he asked me and actually seemed concerned. "Or should I ask, 'What happened to the other man?' " I'd almost forgotten how I looked. The nose had stopped hurting somewhere around Ghana.
"Shaving accident," I told him and forced a crooked smile.
I didn't want to give one more person a reason to think I should go home on the next available plane. What I needed were allies, not more advice.
"Father, I've gotten some disturbing information about a killer called the Tiger. Do you think it's possible that there is more than one Tiger? Maybe operating in different locations? Like here and ...in the US?" "All things are possible, of course," he said with a kind smile.MoreLess
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