Requiem for Moses

them did anything to hide the fact that they were talking to me. That much is common knowledge. Anyone present in the church paying attention could tell you who those five were. So I will give you their names-which is really all I know for sure about them.

“But to be perfectly frank, I would feel awkward going into what they said. Each was operating on the premise that Dr. Green was dead. What they said while operating under that premise surely is different from what they would say now that we know he is alive.

“Indeed, they may just have been getting some deep-seated feelings off their chests.”

There was an awkward silence. It was unique that Father Koesler would publicly back away from a police request.

“We aren’t working on a criminal investigation,” Tully said finally. “We’re trying to find out whether a crime has been committed. If you don’t want to tell us what these people talked about, we’ll pass for the moment. Would you feel okay about writing down their names?” Tully pushed a pad and pencil in front of Koesler.

Wordlessly, the priest began to write.

“This is just a shortcut, Father,” Moore said. “Like you said, we could get the names from any number of people who were at that wake.” She seemed a touch embarrassed at having asked the question that led to this uncomfortable moment.

At that point, a detective from another squad stepped into the room. He was carrying a small portable TV. “Oh, here you are, Zoo. You got the father with-oh, yeah.” He hadn’t at first noticed the seated priest, who was busy writing. “I think you might be interested in this.” He plugged in the set.

Koesler, the antithesis of a dedicated fan of daytime TV, glanced over at the forming picture. As the image on the screen cleared, Koesler recognized the voice: Dan Mountney, reporter and weekend anchor for Channel 4, the local NBC affiliate.

Koesler tried to make out what was on the screen. It looked familiar, but …?

From Mountney’s tone, this was live coverage of some sort of breaking news. It was late afternoon; Koesler could only guess at what scheduled programming was being preempted. Probably a talk show or one of the soaps. In any case, regular viewers were certain to be upset enough to flood the offending station’s switchboard with complaining calls.

“To recap,” Mountney said, signifying that this was at least the second time around, “we are here at St. Joseph’s Church in downtown Detroit.…

St. Joseph’s! He hadn’t recognized it immediately because he’d never seen the church in black and white on a small screen-and also because the camera, rather than focusing on the edifice, was panning around the crowd-a crowd that seemed to have at least doubled since he had last seen it in real life.

“As we know,” Mountney continued, “this church was the scene last night of what some say was a miracle.”

“… some say”-a careful disclaimer, thought Koesler. Probably at next mention the reporter would refer to it as “the alleged miracle.”

“For those of you who have not been following this story, a wake service for prominent physician Dr. Moses Green was being held in this church last night when, at about 7:30 P.M., the corpse awakened-returned from the dead ….” Mountney shrugged. “So far, it’s up in the air. Some say he was mistakenly declared dead. Others claim that the doctor actually returned from the dead. Or, maybe it was the longest near- death experience anyone can remember.

“In any case, crowds of people have been coming and going all through this day. About half an hour ago, this church was the setting for yet another alleged miracle.”

Koesler’s eyes widened. Tully, Moore, and Mangiapane shifted their gaze momentarily from the TV screen to Koesler.

“A woman in a wheelchair had been praying in this overcrowded church for what some eyewitnesses say was several hours. As I said before, she suddenly shouted out. Some say she was uttering a prayer. What is certain is that she got out of her wheelchair and fell to her knees. The crowd, as you might expect, gave her lots of room. She then literally crawled to the sanctuary where, overcome by emotion, she fainted.”

“Dan, do you know where she is now?” the off-camera voice of the anchor asked.

“Not really, Mort. She had been brought here by a couple, reportedly, her sister and her brother-in-law. They got her out of the church as quickly as they could, and drove away. No one seems to know their names or anything else about them.

“We have a couple of eyewitnesses, Mort.”

The camera pulled back to include Dan Mountney and a small, scruffy-looking man with widened eyes and mouth slightly agape. He seemed eager for as much of his fifteen minutes of fame as possible.

“This,” Mountney said, trying not to get any closer to the man than necessary, “is Mr. Malloy.”

“Everybody calls me Charlie Malloy.”

Mountney smiled almost in spite of himself. “Okay, Charlie Malloy. You were there when this happened. Can you describe it for us? What happened?”

“Well, sir, there we were in this terrible crowd. It was so bad you couldn’t move an inch without apologizin’. And the noise! Some people prayin’. Lots of other people just talkin’. Right out loud, mind you. In the church. All that lack of respect. And here we were, right where there’d been a b’Jesus miracle just last night.”

“Right, Charlie Malloy, can you tell us about the woman?”-a hint of impatience-“The woman in the wheelchair?”

“I was just gettin’ to that. She was a pious one. I was kinda payin’ attention to her on accounta she was in this wheelchair. And the crowd wasn’t makin’ allowances for that, y’know. I was afraid she was gonna get knocked over.”

Charlie Malloy, every once in a while, would reach for the microphone in an attempt to take it from Mountney’s hand. Each time Mountney resisted, almost playfully.

“Well, then, all of a sudden, she lets out this scream.”

“Could you make out what it was …what she was saying? Was it a prayer?”

“Well, if it was, it’s not one I’m familiar with.… I mean it wasn’t the Our Father or the Hail Mary.” He grinned. “Which is about as far as I go with prayer.”

“All right, Charlie Malloy, so she screamed. And then?”

“So then she screamed. And then a bunch of women-maybe some men too, I’m not sure-started screamin’ too. I think the wheelchair woman scared them. But everybody backed away from her … which made it that much harder to stand there or even breathe-you r’member I said how crowded it was in there?”

“I remember.”

“Then she sort of threw herself out of the chair. And the chair sort of fell over sideways. And then, the lady started movin’ toward the altar. Everybody was yellin’ things. Some was yellin’ what she was doin’, I guess for the benefit of all the people behind who couldn’t see what was goin’ on. Some was yellin’ encouragement to her. But she didn’t need any help; she was crawlin’ on her knees right for the altar. I’ll tell you, I couldn’a done it … and I got good legs. Yessir, she was cured. Right then and there. It was a miracle. An ever-lovin’ miracle.”

“Did she leave the church then?”

“Sort of. She got to the altar. Then she sort of fell over.”

“Prostrate?”

“You could say that. Then this couple-I guess they brought her-they picked up the chair and put her in it. Then they went like crazy towards the outside door.”

“Do you know her name? Or if anybody got her name? Or the names of the couple she was with? Any identification?”

“It happened so fast! And we were so surprised by the miracle! She was cured. Then she was gone.” Malloy made one more grab for the mike. But Mountney, skilled at this sort of jousting, was too quick for him.

Dan Mountney was about to turn the telecast back to the station when he tipped his head to one side listening to a message through his earpiece. “Mort, I’m told that we’ve located someone who, indeed, did speak to the woman in the wheelchair just as she was getting into the car.”

The camera swung wide again to include a man, obviously stunned, in the black suit and roman collar of a priest. “And you are …?” Mountney asked.