Deaglán de Bréadún, Foreign Affairs Correspondent, reports from Burundi on the investigation into the killing of Archbishop Michael Courtney
You could put your finger through one of the bullet holes. There are three of them in the rear right-hand-side door of the white Land Rover Discovery. This is where Archbishop Michael Courtney, papal nuncio to Burundi and a native of Nenagh, Co Tipperary, was sitting when he met his death.
The location of the bullets suggests that the killer (who probably had one or more accomplices) was firing upwards from a prone position. The standard of accuracy is remarkable: there isn't a scratch on the other side-door at the front.
The right rear tyre was shot away and is now mounted at the back window, where the spare would normally be kept. Apparently the jeep continued for about 100 metres before the driver felt it was safe to stop and change the wheel. The rear window and the Archbishop's window have been shot in and there is glass all over the floor where his feet would have been.
There must have been glass all over his clothing and lap also. He had said earlier he would wear apostolic vestments while travelling the wartorn roads of Burundi, to ensure that any potential attackers could not claim later it was a case of mistaken identity. "My God, my God, what is happening to me?" he is reported to have said before he died.
The shooting happened on December 29th and it is now April, but it's as though nothing has been touched. There is still a box of paper handkerchiefs on the dashboard. A clutch of church newsletters is lying about, the same cheaply-printed missives of good cheer and local news that you get in any parish.
These everyday tokens of normality contrast with the large, wide bloodstain on the back seat, originally red but now turning brown, which shows that a man was fatally wounded here.
It has all the hallmarks of a professional hit. Another passenger, Father Venant Bacinoni, was wounded, but not seriously, and the driver escaped injury, leading to the assumption that the archbishop was the only target. It's what they call a surgical strike.
The killer or killers must have known who it was. The papal flag, yellow and white, still hangs from a grey metal pennant on the fender. It is dusty from the roads of Burundi, which were well-travelled by the archbishop during his three years of peacemaking. There's brown Burundian dust also on the bumper, but the diplomatic number-plate CD.08.01 is clearly visible.
The Land Rover is still in the garage at the papal nunciature, a large house in a residential area of Bujumbura, capital of Burundi. It's a fine place and must have been a welcome haven of peace and tranquillity for the busy diplomat.
The gardens are rich with the colours of spring; in the distance the landscape is one of blue lake and mountains with delicate white clouds. Heaven in hell, so to speak. There is a large satellite dish, standard for most diplomatic residences.
There are still many questions about the killing. An official investigation was launched by the Burundi government and the Foreign Minister, Mr Therence Sinunguruza, met the Minister for Foreign Affairs, Mr Cowen, last week to discuss it.
Answering questions from Irish journalists afterwards, Mr Sinunguruza said the rebel FNL guerrillas (French acronym for National Forces of Liberation) killed the Archbishop. "FNL people shot at the car. They were aiming directly at Archbishop Michael. We think the FNL did it deliberately." For their part, the FNL has denied the killing.
Meanwhile, Mr Sinunguruza said he knew nothing until recently about reports that the archbishop had been investigating a case of fraud involving money intended to fund a Catholic university and that he had even raised it with the president, Mr Domitien Ndayizeye. "I was told that for the first time by Irish journalists," he said. "I was surprised."
He added: "It doesn't really hold." A 21-year-old alleged FNL member has reportedly admitted the killing but claimed it was mistaken identity; three other FNL members are being sought for questioning. In due course, a trial is expected. A local man told me cautiously that the death was due to "circumstances which have not been explained so far".
Meanwhile, the Land Rover still sits in the garage, waiting no doubt for the new papal nuncio to decide its final disposition when he takes up residence. Until then it remains a stark reminder that diplomacy is not all negotiations and cocktail receptions but can also involve real risk to life and limb, and that even the vast spiritual power of the Vatican can be brought low by a bullet fired with evil intent.