Thursday 7:35 P.M.
Fenwick parked in a tow zone on North Avenue. Ian and Demarco met them at the far corner of the property at the small park at the corner of North and Milwaukee.
“What are they doing?” Turner asked.
“Arguing,” Demarco said.”
“About what?”
“Everything,” Ian responded.
“They’ll still be there when we get in?”
Ian shrugged. “We won’t find out until we get there.”
Demarco said, “I can get you a seat where you can see and hear everything, but we’ll be hidden.”
They followed Ian and Demarco through the grounds. Turner walked next to Ian. The detective said, “You know your way through here.”
“When you’re diddling with a semi-closeted priest, you do all kinds of things you didn’t think you’d ever do again.”
Turner said, “You’re in love.”
Demarco whispered back at them, “Hush.”
They walked around the rear of the buildings. The path here was crushed stone. Few lights shone in the downstairs of the Abbey dormitory. They came to an entrance in the section that connected the dorm to the immense medieval-looking sections of the complex.
Once inside in a small hall, Demarco said, “They’re in the nave.” He led them up several flights of stairs.
Demarco brought them to the choir loft in the rear of the church. They crouched down and peered over the railing. Ian was on Turner’s right, Fenwick and Demarco to his left. The five men they were observing were grouped near the center aisle, halfway between the altar and their perch. Pelagius and Duggan sat next to each other on the left. Bruchard sat across from them. Tresca paced on the altar side of them and Drake leaned against the pillar on the side nearest to the choir loft.
Ian put one hand over his mouth and whispered, “Well, well, well, a gaggle of horsemen with their own special apocalypse.” Demarco put a hand out and leaned down near the ground and turned his head slightly in their direction. “Be careful. The sound carries.”
Turner found Demarco was right about the acoustics. They could hear every word. Turner saw Ian take out his smart phone. Ian always had the most up-to-date technological marvel with him. He set it between two pillars of the choir railing and pressed record. Turner heard him mutter, “Eat your heart out, Mitt Romney.”
Cardinal Duggan was saying, “Those detectives are relentless. I don’t like them. We can’t get at them.”
Bruchard sat forward. “I thought you had power in this town.”
Duggan shot back. “You always claimed you were the big shot.”
Bruchard spat back. “Now that you’re a drag queen, you’re nobody.”
“As always,” Duggan said, “you bring up examples that have no logical connection to reason or the topic.” He pointed an accusatory finger at Bruchard. “You’re the one who bankrupted the Order. Kappel had proof.”
“And you were going to use it against me? To do what?”
The two men were on their feet. Bruchard screamed, “You had him killed, you son of a bitch.”
Duggan bellowed right back. “He was a good man, you fucker. You knew he was on to you. He knew you were going down.”
Bruchard now waved his fist in the Cardinal’s face. “Like all the times you went down on him?”
“No less the number of times you grabbed your ankles and turned your butt up to him.”
Bruchard lowered his voice. “He had everything on you, you son of a bitch. He knew what you’d been doing with the finances. You really didn’t think anyone would catch on after that cemetery fiasco?”
“You want a list of what you did?” Duggan asked.
“Where are all these lists?” Drake said. “They’ve got stuff on me too.”
“They’ve got a huge chart in their squad room,” Duggan said.
“How do you know that?”
“Some idiot named Carruthers is a good Catholic although not a very good source.”
“Did your source make copies?”
“I don’t know how competent he is. He feels guilt, but he’s not too bright.”
Turner knew that a reckoning with Carruthers about this would be in order on a day and a time in the very near future.
Tresca stopped pacing and spoke. “I knew he was going to dump me so I did what you wanted. I got the information that he had. You made promises to me. I expect them to be fulfilled.”
Pelagius snorted. “Don’t be absurd. Everybody seems to have all the information now. All promises are irrelevant in light of the murder. Did you kill him?”
“Now who’s being absurd? I loved him.”
“The question is,” Pelagius asked, “can we limit the damage?”
They all looked at him.
“You have all screwed up. Rome is not pleased.”
Duggan gave him a shrewd look. “You were here before Kappel died. You came with that message. You and Kappel have been conspiring all this time.”
Pelagius cleared his throat. “Be thankful Bishop Kappel existed.” He pointed at Duggan. “He got you your job as Cardinal.” He swung his finger toward Bruchard. “And you your job as Abbot.”
Bruchard said, “There was an election. The Order voted for me.”
Pelagius chuckled and waved an effeminate hand. “You don’t think we know how to rig the Italian vote? There are still more Italians in the Order than from any other country. We could have out-voted you. And you did get to be in charge and live here. Now there’s a concession. The first head of the Order in seven hundred years who wasn’t an Italian. You think that’s an accident? It was all planned and orchestrated.”
“Ha!” Duggan snorted.
Pelagius turned on him. “Just like your Cardinalate was part of the plan.”
“What plan?”
“Kappel wanted to be a Cardinal in Rome. He’s been monitoring the Order and the Catholic Church in America for years. How do you think he got appointed to all those investigations? Trust me, it is not because of the influence and charm of you two incompetent fools.”
Bruchard snapped. “I wasn’t afraid of an old woman with a video.”
“I’m not afraid,” Duggan said.
“That’s right,” Bruchard said, “the worst about you is known. You only have to attempt to clean up a mess before they transfer you to some quiet job in the third sub-basement of the Vatican. You’re an embarrassment.”
Drake waved his arms. “Forget the rest of this bullshit. Who is this new guy they found? The burly guy who lived out in Morris, Gorman. Did he have copies?”
Pelagius said, “I think so. My source was not available today.”
Turner wondered if Carruthers had switched sides, gotten a conscience, realized whose side he was supposed to be on.
Bruchard turned on Tresca. “Why didn’t we know about him?”
“How the hell should I know?”
Now Drake was pacing. “I don’t want anything to do with you people. I’m not involved in murder. I think I better call my lawyer.” He took out a cell phone.
Pelagius said, “If you want us to help save your career, you’d better listen for a while.”
Drake hesitated.
“Listen to what?” Tresca asked. “Are you taking us all to Rome tonight in a private jet?”
“That could be arranged, I suppose, but we shouldn’t need anything that dramatic, but it would help to know which of you ordered him murdered.” His voice was calm as his eyes flitted from Bruchard to Duggan.
The church officials pointed at each other.
Pelagius said, “Who did you order to take care of it?”
Both clerics looked at Tresca.
The bishop began backing away. “You are not going to pin this on me. I just did what you told me to do.”
Pelagius smiled. “So you both wanted to eliminate him. Well, well, well.”
Drake whispered, “Are you guys all nuts?”
Turner thought this was an excellent question.
Fenwick whispered to him, “Do you smell smoke?”
Turner moved his head slightly in Fenwick’s direction. He drew in a breath. “Not re…” He looked up, nudged Fenwick’s arm, pointed up. “Is that smoke?”
Fire alarms began to clang and whine.