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“Of course not,” he said in an unconvincing tone.
“And you are old enough to be my father, like you said.”
“In truth, I am actually old enough to be your grandfather, well almost.” He let go of her arm and pointed across at the church. “There is one of those in every village you will travel to here.”
“A church? Yes, I suppose so.”
“People use religion for much, mostly to explain their own shortcomings.”
“That’s an unusual theory.”
“Books filled up by foolish people who don’t want to take control of their own lives. So they look for some divine providence to explain their desires.”
“You mean to guide them?”
“No, I mean for excuses. The people who actually do something with their lives do so from here.” He tapped his chest. “They don’t need men in collars telling them what to think and who to pray to. And most importantly who to give their money to.”
“I take it you’re not a regular churchgoer.”
He smiled. “Oh, but I am. Every week I am there. And I give much money to the church.”
“Why, if you think it’s a bunch of crap?”
He took her arm once more. “No, I do so because it’s in my heart. I believe. And there is much good with faith. Much good. My mother would have been in a convent if she’d had her way. Fortunately she did not, otherwise I would not be here. I loved my mother very much.”
Reggie turned to see him staring directly at her.
“I am going on a private tour of the Les Baux photographic exhibit this week. Have you heard of it?”
“I read about it, yes.”
“Goya is the selected artist this year.”
“Goya? Not a very uplifting choice.”
“It is true that many of his masterpieces are bleak, but they have such power, such insight into the human soul.”
“They depict evil,” Reggie said, before looking away from the man she considered one of the most evil she had ever pursued.
“Yet evil is a large component of the soul. Its potential inhabits everyone.”
“I don’t believe that,” Reggie said breathlessly. “I refuse to believe that.”
“You may refuse if you choose to, but that does not mean that you are right.” He paused. “I would like for you to accompany me on this tour. We can debate further this point then.”
Reggie didn’t answer right away. “I’ll think about it and let you know.”
He smiled through this mild reproach, bent down and kissed the back of her hand. “I enjoyed our dinner, Janie. And now, as I have business to attend to, I wish you good night.”
He turned and walked off, his men following him.
Reggie just stood there in the middle of the street, desperately trying to divine what that last look had truly meant.
“Troubled?”
She turned around.
Shaw was leaning against a pillar in front of the church.
