Son of Dada, Chapter 1, The Call

Da's world called, as if I belonged there, still. And was theirs to call. There, for the using. Fallen son of a fallen priest.

"Daniel. Mark. Fra Benedict said you're the one t'call, if we need one in your line of work."

Fra Benedict. I'd have hung up, except for that.

Mark said, "There are paper details. Perhaps we'll do tea, after matins."

Matins. St.Jude's filling up. Candlesmoke. Kneeling murmurers. Mark looked old. Offered his old hand. It cost me nothing to take it. Priest and stranger being eyeballed. He hid us in his private office, the confessional. Never subtle, old Mark.

"What?" I said.

Mark said, "Lucien's lost."

Lucien. Fra Benedict guessed right. I was the only one.