The Sacrifice (12 page)

“So,” Zoo summed up, “you agreed to see him.”

“Well, not so much
see
him. I told him I would wait for him in the office immediately to the right of the rectory's front door. I told him I would be seated with my back to the door so he could protect his anonymity if he wished.”

“And then?”

“And then I told Bishop Donovan that I was indisposed—which, by then, was the truth. I told him I would be back in a few minutes. And I added lightly, ‘Don't start without me.'”

“Just out of curiosity,” Father Tully asked, “what did the bishop say to that?”

“He said mine was not a very auspicious beginning in the Roman Catholic priesthood.”

“Did he smile?”

“Does
he smile?”

“And then?” Zoo prodded. “What happened then?”

“I went to the office and took my position with my back to the door. And I waited. I watched the time pass on the clock on the mantelpiece. If the caller was indeed just outside the rectory eager to consult me, he was taking a strange way of keeping his part of the bargain.

“I waited for almost fifteen minutes. If the caller had any intention of consulting me, I had given him ample opportunity. Keeping a congregation waiting a few minutes was one thing; this wait—particularly since it now seemed that the delay was a hoax—was completely unwarranted.

“Still, I was perplexed—and concerned. Maybe my caller had gotten cold feet—but maybe, just possibly, even after all his pleading, maybe he had done himself harm—or even actually committed suicide. Should I just assume he'd had second thoughts—or should I check outside and make sure there wasn't somebody dead or dying out there …

“Finally—it was
not
my finest hour—I recalled Nan and the dogs. So—I left the office and joined the group assembled for the procession. As soon as Bishop Donovan saw me coming, he gave the high sign and we began to move forward.

“And that's when the bomb exploded.”

Silence.

“A most interesting account,” Inspector Koznicki murmured, just loudly enough to be heard in this quiet room.

Silence.

“Well,” Father Tully said finally, “one thing is for sure: There's not going to be an ordination today.”

“If not today, then when?” George Wheatley wondered.

“A good question,” Father Tully responded. “I think the ball is in the Cardinal's court now. And I couldn't begin to guess what he'll do.”

“Our Cardinal can be spontaneous,” Koesler commented, “but he's seldom, if ever, capricious.”

All heads turned as Anne Marie Tully entered the room. She had not knocked first … a sign of how at home she felt in her brother-in-law's residence. Even though Zack was now merely keeping it occupied for the Wheatleys.

“What's going on out there, honey?” Zoo asked.

“The crime scene's been marked. The tape is up. Pretty near everybody's been interviewed. Things look pretty organized. The caterers have been sent home.” She paused a moment. “And I'll bet you guys are hungry.”

Everyone looked around the room to catch the others' reaction to the suggestion of food. Heads nodded.

“Well,” Anne Marie said, “I'd like to invite you to our house. It's in the neighborhood—not far from here. It'll be a little crowded, but we can manage.”

Walt Koznicki stood, a commanding figure. “With all due respect, I would like to offer my home. I am sure that Anne Marie would do a magnificent job. But with our house, there is no lack of space. It is one of those old Detroit homes that, along with our neighbors', has been well kept up.

“Besides, it would come as no surprise to Wanda, my wife. She is expecting me to return for supper.”

“You weren't going to stay for the reception?” Koesler asked.

“No. My plan all along was to dine with my wife.” Koznicki smiled. “For all the many years I was a police officer, I seldom had the luxury of dining with my wife and children. We are trying to make up for those years by being together as much as possible now.

“I would not even be here had not Wanda almost pushed me out the door. She knew that I would want to witness this ceremony.” He turned to the Wheatleys with the hint of a bow. “I offer you my warmest welcome. I am sure the department will ensure that nothing like this will happen again … not with Lieutenant Tully in charge.”

“But, Inspector,” Koesler said, “you and Wanda only just returned from an extended trip. Wouldn't this be too much of an imposition?”

“Not at all. Wanda always listens to our police band radio. She will know what happened. She will expect me soon. And she would not be at all surprised that I have invited you to our home. Even as I speak, I am certain she is making preparations for an abundance of food. But, to be certain, I will phone her now and make this invitation official.”

He smiled as he looked from one to another of those present. “Does this meet with your approval? And how many may we expect?”

Anne Marie, since she had initially issued the invitation, was first to accept Koznicki's offer. “As long as Wanda is up to it, I'm sure it will work out for the best.”

Koznicki beamed. “Fine. And how about the rest of you?”

Koesler raised a hand. “I'll go. Gladly.”

Zoo Tully's first reaction was to stay at this site until he was satisfied that he had milked every nuance that the crime scene contained. But, on second thought, he had complete confidence in his squad. And it was quite possible that he would pick up some helpful understanding of all that was going on in this Anglican-to-Roman switch. “I'll come, Walt.”

Alice Wheatley didn't look all that interested. “What with one thing and another, I think I'll just go back to the hotel and rest.”

“You go to school in Dallas, right?” asked Zoo.

“Yes, the seminary.”

“Were you planning on leaving Detroit soon?”

“Yes. I have a flight tomorrow … mid-morning.”

“We would appreciate it if you would cancel that flight. Postpone your departure. It's possible that you may prove essential to the investigation. If that happens and you're not here, you'd have to make a return flight from Texas. All in all, it would be an expensive trip.”

Alice studied the floor. It was obvious she was displeased. Reluctantly, she agreed to stay. “Is it all right if I stay with you and Gwen for the duration, Ron?”

“Of course.”

“Good. It's too late to check out tonight. I'll be ready in the morning.”

Ron nodded.

Koesler noted a spasm of anguish pass over Nan's face. To a lesser degree the same was true of George. They were embarrassed that their daughter, even in an emergency situation, would choose not to stay with them.

“Please,” Ron said, “hold me excused also. I have a couple of meetings that need my attention.”

Several of those present wondered at that: parochial meetings on a Sunday night?

George patted Nan's hand. “This has been a long, hard day. I think we need an opportunity to stretch out and get some shut-eye.”

Father Zach Tully wanted very much to accept Koznicki's invitation. But he felt his place should be at his wounded church. If there were any questions, especially on the part of the police who were still at it, searching for evidence and, hopefully, gaining new information, Zack felt he should be available.

So he tendered his regrets and left the group for his first look at the damage now that the dust had settled.

Richard Wheatley had not expressed his feelings. By this time, several options were open to him. He could, of course, ride along to the Koznickis'. Or, he could go home with his parents. Or, stretching it a bit, he could ask to stay with his sister and keep her company before she returned to the hotel.

Finally, he decided his best chance for a good time was in the Koznicki household.

He had the grace to ask his parents' permission, after being assured that Zoo and Anne Marie Tully would drive him to and fro.

It would be a restless Sunday night for nearly everyone.

It was barely possible that someone in this group might let drop something that would be helpful. Or … was it possible that one of these people was responsible for the whole thing?

S
EVEN

All the lights had been turned on. Still, it was difficult to see inside the church. Particles of dust and powder seemed suspended in air.

Police officers and members of the Bomb Squad stirred up even more debris as they probed and assembled what was left of the damaged area of the sanctuary of Old St. Joseph's church.

A small but fixed smile lingered on Father Harry Morgan's face. His companion, Father Daniel Reichert, was tired to the point of exhaustion.

“It's like God vomited,” Morgan stated.

“I beg your pardon?” It seemed that Morgan was bent on trying to shock Reichert. First that remark about the Catholic Church being dead, and now this. “Harry, don't you ever get the feeling that we humans push God beyond the point of endurance?”

“Well, not really. I've always thought that, in the end, God can take care of Himself.”

“Yes, I suppose. At Judgment time. But take the Flood: God decides that His creation has fouled everything up. So He saves the nucleus of His creation and lets the rest perish in the Flood.”

“You have a point.”

“Or, take Sodom and Gomorrah. The two towns are steeped in unspeakable sin. So He destroys them with hellfire and brimstone.”

“But you're forgetting, Harry, that He always anointed someone—Noah in the one case, and Lot in the other—to survive and build again.”

“I'm not forgetting, Dan. That's us.”

“Us?”

“Certainly. And if not us, then others who will restore sanity and holiness. But sometimes we go so far wrong that God's infinite patience is exhausted.”

“How can infinity be exhausted? That's an Irish Bull.”

“A figure of speech.”

The two slight men, all in black, were so camouflaged in their obscure nook that both the police and Bomb Squad were more or less unheedful of their presence.

Father Zack Tully knew they were there, but didn't feel drawn to conversing with them.

Tully actually was helpful in explaining to the officers exactly what had been destroyed and where certain objects had stood before the explosion displaced them.

“Why did you say this reminds you of God's being nauseated? What a revolting metaphor!”

“Think it through, Dan. This is one of the oldest parishes in Detroit. It's been designated a historical site. Think of the good priests who've served here over the years. Noble men. Faithful to the Church and its infallible teachings. Then think of what's happened since the sixties. Think about that.”

Reichert thought about that. “The Council. That damned Council! Upset everything.”

“But God's been patient. He gave us a Pope who could see all the value that was lost. Most of all, he picked men who would return us to so many things, that had been discarded … men who became good and faithful priests, bishops, Cardinals.”

“True. But what's that got to do with what's happened here?”

“Think it through, Dan … think it through. Think of the pastors they've had here. Koesler didn't make too many mistakes. But he gave away too much power to the people.”

“A mistake. A very definite mistake.”

“Then they bring this Josephite priest in from Dallas, and right away they have to have guitar Masses, folk Masses. For all we know he may be holding Masses with pizza and Coke!”

“Would we know about that if he did?”

“They couldn't keep it a secret forever.”

“Lord, God!”

“But the worst was yet to come. And it happened this very day. And that's why I think we have sickened God. If God had not intervened, George Wheatley would have been transformed from a heretic to a Catholic priest. And just think of the package that he would've brought with him.”

Reichert's face betrayed uncertainty.

“He is married.” Morgan was impatient. “He brings his family with him. There goes the sacred institution of celibacy.

“Ordinarily, the saving grace would be that he opposed ordination for women. But this guy … his daughter is only a little more than two years away. And Wheatley supports her ordination … along with any others of the weaker sex who want to desecrate the Sacrament of Holy Orders.

“And that, Dan, is the reason the power of God was manifest here today. We have so turned away from God's evident will that we have sickened Him. Remember what the Lord said: ‘I will vomit you out of my mouth.' That's what He did today … in a symbolic sense, of course.”

“Fathers …” Zack Tully startled Reichert and Morgan, who had been intent solely on their own conversation and nothing more.

“Fathers,” Tully repeated. “The police are concluding their investigation. It's time for us to clear out.”

Reichert and Morgan started to stand. But they had been seated so long and the damp cold had so penetrated their bones that both of them evidenced difficulty. Tully reached to assist them. Reichert was realistically grateful. Morgan was stubbornly fussing. “We can get along very well on our own. You've got us on the shelf now. But you just wait: There's a new breed of priest, and a new kind of bishop who will return this one, true, holy, and Catholic Church to its own. You wait and see!”

Tully was taken aback. He had stayed in his own section of the church, up near the front where he could be of help to the police. Also, that had given him the perfect pretext for not talking with the pair.

But it was time to leave. And that was the straightforward announcement that he was making. Only to be hit by an admonitory warning that, as far as he was concerned, was gratuitous and ad hominem.

Tully sensed their reluctance to leave. Of course he could always ask the police to ease them out. But perhaps, with a little patience …“Exciting time today, wasn't it?” he commented, offering entree to more innocuous conversation.