Hotline to Murder (22 page)

They passed small, older houses with small
but tidy front yards, perhaps built right after World War II.
Lights shone in some of the windows, but there was nobody else on
the street.

As they neared the church, Shahla said, “I
hear singing.”

“The service must have started already,”
Tony said.

It was after 7. The singing grew louder as
they came to the front of the church and started up the walk to the
door. A wheezy organ backed the vocal. Tony thought he recognized a
hymn from his youth, but this version of it was livelier and more
melodic than he remembered. They must have paid their electric
bill. Lights were on inside the church.

When Shahla opened the door, he could pick
out distinct voices, from bass to soprano, with some singing
harmony to the melody of the others. The notes reverberated off the
walls and ceiling and filled every corner of the room. Their
religious practices might be suspect, but their music was
top-notch.

Tony went through the doorway first. He saw
that most of the pews were filled. The congregation was standing.
The men and women and a few children swayed to the music, adding
the impact of their bodies to that of their voices. The Reverend
Luther Hodgkins stood in front leading the singing, and Tony could
clearly hear his booming bass voice over those of everybody else.
The voices of the robed members of the choir also penetrated to the
back of the room. Shahla came in behind Tony and stood beside him,
looking awed.

Tony felt a presence on the other side of
him. He turned his head and saw a man smiling and holding out a
program toward him. Tony nodded his thanks—there was no point in
trying to talk over the singing—and took it, being careful not to
lose control of his crutch. He led Shahla to the back row of the
pews, which, fortunately, was empty on one side. She went past him,
and he stayed on the aisle.

They didn’t try to join in the singing. They
did find themselves joining the congregation in moving their bodies
as the music engulfed them. Tony surveyed the other parishioners.
His guess was that the majority of them were of African descent,
with a sprinkling of Europeans and at least one woman he could see
who looked Asian. He did not see Nathan.

The singing went on for another five
minutes. Just when Tony wondered whether it was ever going to end,
it came to a conclusion with a final amen. Reverend Hodgkins
motioned for the congregation to sit. In order for Tony to have
enough room to stretch out his left leg, he had to sit somewhat
sideways. He sat facing toward Shahla so he wouldn’t lose contact
with her. What to do with his crutches was another problem. He
finally laid them on the floor.

Reverend Hodgkins was giving announcements
of the kind made in many churches. News of congregation members who
were sick and one who had died. He said of the deceased, “He has
preceded us into Glory, where we will be joining him soon.” Tony
wondered how soon “soon” was.

He heard the Reverend saying, “We have two
guests with us tonight. It is customary for our guests to give
their names and tell what prompted them to come to our church.
Would you please stand and be recognized?”

The Reverend had sharp eyes. So much for
trying to stay incognito. Shahla clearly wasn’t going to stand
unless Tony did, and for Tony to stand again after he had just sat
down would have taken a major effort. Everybody had turned around
and was looking at them. Tony felt growing embarrassment.

He said, in what he hoped was a voice loud
enough for everybody to hear, “It is difficult for me to stand
because of a recent injury, but I want to thank you for welcoming
us here tonight. My name is Tony and this is Shahla. We are friends
of Nathan Watson, whose talk about your church has made us
curious.” Realizing that “curious” wasn’t a good word, Tony said,
“We are on a spiritual quest, and we have been led to your
door.”

“Nathan,” Reverend Hodgkins said, focusing
his eyes near the front of the congregation, “Do you acknowledge
these guests?”

Nathan stood up from the third row and
looked back toward Tony and Shahla. “They are my friends, and I
take full responsibility for them.”

Tony detected a certain lack of conviction
in Nathan’s voice and suspected that his presence, rather than
Shahla’s, caused it. But Nathan couldn’t admit that he had screwed
up in front of the congregation. Apparently, not just anybody could
wander in off the street and attend a service.

Reverend Hodgkins had them bow their heads
in prayer. Tony was thankful that the spotlight was off them. He
glanced at Shahla, whose return look showed doubts about what they
were doing here. Perhaps they would leave during the singing of the
next hymn, when the attention of the parishioners would be focused
elsewhere. Tony was plotting their escape when the words of the
Reverend’s prayer caught his attention.

“It is written that the Day of Judgment is
coming,” Reverend Hodgkins said. “Others have tried to pinpoint
this day and have failed. With your divine guidance, oh Lord, we,
your humble servants, have been privileged to discover the correct
date. Let our hearts be light as we divest ourselves of our
material possessions and use them for the greater glory of your
Church.”

Then he started to talk about the wonders of
heaven. To hear the Reverend tell it, heaven was indeed paradise,
with amenities to suit every fantasy. If you liked tropical
beaches, you would be on a heavenly Bora Bora. If you liked
mountains, you would be surrounded by them. If you had been unhappy
in love in this life, wait until the next one. Reverend Hodgkins
made the possibilities sound better than the seventy-odd virgins
promised to every Muslim suicide bomber.

Then he came back to this world. It sounded
to Tony as if the Reverend was telling them to turn their
possessions, or the proceeds from selling their possessions, over
to the Church. He looked around and wondered whether these people
were really buying into this. He wondered whether Nathan was buying
into this.

When the length of the prayer threatened to
put Tony to sleep, he remembered he had a printed program and
looked at it for the first time. If he was correct about where they
were in the service, the offering came next. And then the sermon.
Who knew how long the sermon would go? Reverend Hodgkins was a
strong-looking man who could probably talk for hours. Tony’s
attention was also called to the fact that he had not had a chance
to pee since leaving Shahla’s house, where he had drunk a bottle of
beer with dinner. How long could he hold on?

The prayer finally ended, and Reverend
Hodgkins asked the men and women who were going to collect the
offering to come to the front. He presented them with bowl-like
containers, larger than the offering plates Tony was used to seeing
in churches. He wondered why. He soon found out. People were
dumping in large envelopes, presumably containing cash, as well as
checks. This was evidence that the members of the congregation were
taking the Reverend seriously about divesting their assets. Tony
almost felt guilty about putting in only ten dollars. But why? What
was going on here was a sophisticated form of robbery.

And when the sermon started, Tony discovered
that it wasn’t an ordinary sermon, building on a quotation from
scripture or something similar. It was more of a planning session.
Planning for the big day. Except that the Reverend didn’t say when
the big day was. He went through the congregation,
person-by-person, family-by-family, having them stand and tell how
they were progressing concerning divestiture of their possessions.
If they owned a house, had they sold it? Was it in escrow? Did they
have a place to live, temporarily, after the sale closed? He wasn’t
satisfied with the money they had already contributed. He wanted
more.

After their interrogation, some people
remained in their seats, but others stood up and wandered around,
talking to fellow members of the congregation. A few left the
building, staring at Tony and Shahla on their way out. Tony had a
whispered consultation with Shahla and they decided to leave after
they heard Nathan speak.

Nathan’s turn came about thirty minutes into
this phase of the program. His only significant possession appeared
to be a car. He stated that he thought he could sell his car, but
that he needed it as long as he was working. The Reverend suggested
that he stop working because the Great Day was at hand. Nathan
seemed hesitant. Reverend Hodgkins admonished him saying that only
true believers would be admitted to heaven. And they had to
demonstrate their belief with actions.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tony whispered to
Shahla. He laboriously turned his body around to face the aisle and
just as laboriously rose to his feet. They attracted more attention
as they walked out of the church. The man who had given Tony the
program on their way in smiled at them and said, “Have a glorious
evening.”

They went down the church walk to the street
and were turning onto the sidewalk when a voice behind them called,
“Wait.”

They turned around and saw Nathan running
after them. When he caught them, he stood panting for a moment,
looking at the ground. When they didn’t say anything, he said,
“Isn’t he wonderful?”

Was Nathan serious? Tony was speechless. He
began walking toward the car. Shahla and Nathan followed him. He
hoped Nathan would get lost. He didn’t want this weirdo around
Shahla.

When they had gone a few feet and had
separated themselves from other people who were leaving, Shahla
said, “Nathan, don’t you realize that this is a scam to get all
your money?”

At least she had her head screwed on
straight. Tony listened for Nathan to respond.

After a few seconds, Nathan said, “No. No.
You don’t understand. You don’t understand.”

He seemed incapable of saying more. Tony
said, “The Reverend never said when this big day was going to take
place. When is it?” When Nathan was silent, he continued, “You
don’t know, do you? He’s going to announce it after he has all your
money. And then, while the faithful flock gathers on the hillside
and waits for the chariots to come for you, he takes off to Bora
Bora or one of the other paradises listed in his prayer.”

They were at the car. Tony unlocked it with
the remote and opened the passenger door for Shahla. As she got
into the car, Nathan fell on his knees beside it and actually
raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

“It’s not true,” he said. “You believe me,
don’t you? You want to go to heaven, don’t you?”

“I want to go home,” Shahla said. “I’ve got
school tomorrow.”

She shut the door in Nathan’s face. Tony
limped around to the driver’s side, stowed his crutches in the
backseat, and slid behind the steering wheel. As he maneuvered out
of the parking place, he saw Nathan standing there, looking at
Shahla, with a strange expression.

“He’s as crazy as some of our callers,”
Shahla said as they pulled away.

“I’m glad to hear you say that,” Tony said.
“I’m almost as relieved as your mom will be that you’re not getting
mixed up with Nathan. But in addition, I don’t think I could have
any part in a religion where you have to be a member of the elite
to get into heaven. I guess I’d call that the religion of the
smug.”

Shahla laughed. “You know, you’re a pretty
smart guy.”

“Thanks.” Maybe he was smarter than he
thought he was.

CHAPTER 26

Detective Croyden listened to Tony’s story
while doodling with his Mont Blanc pen on his pad. He didn’t take
any notes that Tony could see. When Tony was finished, he said,
“That’s not our jurisdiction. That’s LAPD.”

“Then why did you let me talk so long?”

“I wanted to see if there was anything about
this Nathan character that we should be looking into. He sounds
like a harmless kook, however.”

“He may be harmless, but he’s about to lose
all his money.”

“As I said, you’ll have to tell that to
LAPD. I can’t do anything about it.”

“If I go to them, what do you think they’ll
say?”

“They’ll ask you if you have suffered a
loss. Since you haven’t, they’ll ask whether you know of anybody
who has. You will mention Nathan and the rest of the congregation.
They will ask why none of those people has complained to them.”

“By the time they complain, it will be too
late. This Reverend Hodgkins will be long gone. With their
money.”

“Tony, it isn’t illegal to contribute money
to the nonprofit organization of your choice. It’s not even illegal
to contribute
all
your money.”

“Unless the leader of the nonprofit absconds
with it.”

“Which hasn’t happened yet.”

Tony felt thoroughly frustrated. “What
you’re telling me is that there’s nothing the police can do.”

Detective Croyden shrugged. “Believe it or
not, I’m sympathetic to your point of view. We see this all the
time. But until a crime is committed, our hands are pretty much
tied.”

“These people are going to be wiped out. And
when the big day comes and they don’t get lifted up into heaven,
they’re going to be homeless and starving.”

“You’re welcome to go to the police station
nearest the church and tell them what you told me.”

“But you don’t think it will do any good.”
Tony considered. While he was here, should he tell Detective
Croyden about the panties he had found in Josh’s drawer? No, he
wasn’t ready to do that yet. Shahla had said she wanted to look at
them again. He clung to the hope that she would reject them as
evidence.

“Have you got any leads?” he asked.

“We’re working on a number of
possibilities,” Detective Croyden answered, enigmatically.

“In other words, no. Thanks for your time,
Detective.” Tony carefully got to his feet and swung his crutches
into position. He was able to bear some weight on his bad leg now
and hoped he could discard the crutches soon.