“You didn’t wear clothes?”

“That was left to the individual, but when we were in our private meetings, most people wore… well, less than they normally would. Or nothing at all. Booze flowed freely; that made it easier for some people. We’d do nude swimming. Messing around in hot tubs. Sometimes we’d all watch porn videos, just to get worked up. Sometimes we would play little games.”

“Games?”

“Icebreakers. You know, to get to know one another.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, God.” She pressed a hand against a temple. “We played one that was kind of like spin the bottle, only instead of giving kisses, if the bottle pointed to you, you’d have to… perform oral gratification. We had a sundae party, where people smeared whipped cream and toppings on themselves and you had to lick it off. The men had a contest once to see who had the longest tongue, for… obvious reasons. One night we lined up in a big chain, like a bunny hop, except we were naked and the music was Ravel’s Boléro, and we all performed massages on one another.”

“The purpose of these games, I suppose, was to… stimulate sexual interest?”

“Yes. And help decide who was going off with whom.”

“And once the pairing was complete?”

“It varied. Sometimes, we’d do private encounters in separate rooms. And sometimes… not.” She drew in her breath, steeling herself. “Some people liked to watch-they’d stand there and observe while their spouse made love to another person. Sometimes we’d all do it in the same big living room. Together. Me and the Altar Guild ladies and the preschool teachers and whoever else.” Her voice choked, like a gagging reflex was kicking in. “One big Christian orgy.”

“You’re telling us that… sexual intercourse took place?”

“In every way, shape and form that you can imagine. Wanna do it a little differently from the way your spouse does it? Here’s your big chance. You like bondage? There’d be somebody there with your taste. Into pain? Someone’s waiting for you.”

“And you took part in this activity?”

Carol closed her eyes tightly, but a tear still crept through. “Yes. I did. To my eternal shame. Me and all my friends, all the people I loved most in the world.”

“And Father Beale also took part in this sexual activity?”

“Took part? He was the main man.”

Again, Ben could feel the heat of the jury’s eyes. He was only glad Andrea had excused herself from the courtroom-at Ben’s suggestion. Ben knew the jury would notice she was gone, but it was better that they see the empty seat than that they see the priest’s wife break down in open court.

“He had sex with other women in the church?”

“Anyone. Anyone he could get.”

“Including…”

“Yes,” she said, speaking more quietly than before. “Even me.”

“And his wife knew about this?”

“Of course she did. She was there. This was a couples event, remember? I don’t think she ever enjoyed it. I don’t think she derived pleasure from watching her husband-the-priest prance around like a great big stud horse. But she certainly knew. We all knew.”

“How long did this last?”

Carol considered. “I would guess it ran for close to three years without any serious problems. Then everything started to unravel. I wasn’t the only one who was getting sickened by it. Helen Conrad was the first to admit it. She got a group of the women together and we talked. Helen was so racked with guilt I thought she might be suicidal. She prayed for forgiveness all day long-but never found any relief. After she was killed, I think we all secretly wondered if she had been punished for what she had done. And which one of us might be next. We wanted it to stop, or at the very least, to stop having the official imprimatur of our church. But Father Beale wouldn’t hear of it. He thought we were doing something important, something progressive. He was really into it. And he didn’t want it to end.”

“What was the result?”

“The result was that Father Beale began having problems with the church, the vestry, the parishioners. First it was just a few of us, but it grew beyond that. There was definitely a backlash on all fronts. It was like, Okay, we’ve had our fun. Let’s end this before we get caught. But Father Beale wouldn’t consent. He wouldn’t-or couldn’t-quit. He was totally addicted to it-the sex, the power, the women.”

“Was this when the vestry began to have serious disagreements with Father Beale?”

“Yes. I mean, we never said, ‘Hey, this is because we want the orgies to stop.’ We couldn’t put that in the minutes, could we? Especially not when copies go to the bishop. We never publicly acknowledged what we were doing, not outside the Liberated Christian meetings. But that’s what the dissension was all about.”

“Had some of the vestry members been… involved?”

“Yeah, all of them, I think. Except Ruth O’Connell and Ernestine Rupert, and they certainly knew about it. By the time last year rolled around, Father Beale was confronted by a vestry that was almost uniformly opposed to him. We talked about politics and liturgical issues, but that wasn’t what was in our hearts. What we wanted most. We all knew it wasn’t about… gay rights, or whatever. It was about getting rid of the priest who had turned our sweet little church into a whorehouse.”

“Was Kate McGuire one of the women who had been with Father Beale?”

“Oh, yes. Many times. And so were the other two women who were killed.”

“And was she one of the women who wanted Father Beale to stop these sexual activities? To leave?”

“One of the strongest. Kate got into some major fights with him. She was having a breakdown, truth be told. She couldn’t handle it any more. She was undergoing a major guilt attack. She was engaged to be married, you know, even while this was going on. She felt dirty all the time, couldn’t get clean. She’d shower three times a day, but it didn’t help. And she couldn’t get any help from her spiritual advisor-because he was the one who had dirtied her.”

“Was she doing anything other than fighting with him?”

“Yes. She made threats-we all heard them. She said if he didn’t stop it, she’d report him to the ecclesiastical court.” She let out a wry, bitter chuckle. “He kept saying there was nothing wrong with what we were doing. Fine then-let’s hear it from the bishop.” She lowered her eyes. “I suspect he would’ve had a different viewpoint.”

“So she threatened to expose him?”

“She threatened to blow the whole thing wide open. Father Beale would never have worked again-if she hadn’t been killed. In his office.”

The leaden silence that blanketed the courtroom was almost unbearable. Ben tried to shake it off, tried not to let these stunning revelations prevent his brain from functioning.

“Why have you come forward now?”

Carol thought several moments before answering. “I feel bad about it. I feel like I’m betraying everyone in the church. Exposing everyone’s secrets. But-that’s why we couldn’t get anything done. Because everything was a secret. No one wanted to talk about it.” She lowered her head. “I just thought-if someone doesn’t talk about it someday, it will never stop. Never. And I couldn’t stand that. I just… couldn’t stand it.”

“I think we all know what you’re saying,” Canelli murmured.

“You can’t understand what it was like,” Carol said, her voice cracking. “St. Benedict’s meant so much to me. When I first came here, I was a mess, but the people at St. Benedict’s helped me find my way. Helped me find my center. I used to say that church must’ve been built on holy ground-that’s how much it meant to me. And now, to have all that taken away, stolen, and transformed into something grotesque and horrible and… dirty.” Tears poured down her face. She braced herself against the railing, barely able to hold herself up. “I couldn’t bear it. None of us could.”

“Thank you,” Canelli said quietly. He turned toward Ben. “Your witness.”