After the three left, Fox got his coat. “Look,” he said to Tully, “I don’t know where your investigation will lead you, but I’m listing the cause of death as ‘undetermined.’ And, frankly, I don’t know how you can do otherwise.
“Well, good day, officers.”
Mangiapane approached. “The guys from the M.E.’s office are here. They want to take Green to the morgue.”
“Our guys done with him?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay”
Mangiapane gave the new arrivals the go-ahead.
“Manj,” Tully said. “When did this day start getting away from us?”
Mangiapane shrugged, and smiled.
“We’ve got a death today that’s a repeat of last Monday,” Tully mused. “Is it murder? It’s so simple, an overdose of morphine. The wife could have done it before or after she went shopping. The kids and/or Bill Gray could have come here once they found out Mrs. Green was going to be gone. Or, like the Orient Express, they all could have done it-taking turns feeding the guy pills. Or, with minimum security, almost anyone could have gotten in and done it.
“Or, was it suicide? The guy told his own doctor he didn’t want to live. You could bet on anyone and be paid even money. All we can do is wait for Moellmann’s report.”
Angie Moore joined them.
“Zoo was wondering when this day got away from us,” Mangiapane said.
“I don’t know about that,” Moore replied. “But I think now is when we can put part of it together again.”
“Whatcha got?” Tully asked.
“Doc Green’s checkbook. Look at this entry.” She showed the stub to both Tully and Mangiapane. The check had been issued to “G.O.B. Inc.” The amount was $10,000.
“Two hits at five grand apiece,” Mangiapane observed. “Somebody didn’t know the price has gone up.”
“Maybe,” Moore added, “Green had never taken out a contract before.
Mangiapane scratched his head. “One more puzzle. Why would a guy who is gonna commit suicide take out a contract on two other people?”
“Good question,” Tully agreed. “Maybe there’s no way to measure how mean, nasty, cruel, and vengeful this guy was. I remember reading about Hitler when the war was lost and Berlin was falling down around his ears. He sent orders to execute political prisoners. I always thought Hitler was a special type of creep, and that I would never see his equal. Maybe now I have.
“But, until the M.E.’s report, I think we’d better follow Doc Fox’s example and label this an undetermined death. That covers a multitude of possibilities.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was now ten days since that incredible Monday when Moses Green was almost waked in St. Joseph’s Church. Those things that could be resolved, had been. Those that defied solution, remained mysteries. Some thought they knew all the answers. But there was no evidence to support their conclusions.
Established: Moses Green died of an overdose of morphine.
Unsolved: How the morphine had been administered, and by whom. There were so many possibilities. Suicide not only was possible, it was the simplest, least complicated solution. Dr. Fox testified that Green had suffered intensely, that he had declared a preference for death, and that he had the means at hand to do the deed.
Established: That Moses Green had taken out a contract with GOB Company’s CEO, Billy Bob Higbie, on the lives of Claire McNern and Stan Lacki. Confronted with the deposit of a $10,000 check from the account of Moses Green, plus testimony from several disgruntled gang members, Higbie faced trial for conspiracy to commit murder in the first degree. No reasonable person, including his own attorney, doubted that he would be convicted. There were equally strong cases against the young woman who had killed Stan and the man who had killed Claire.
Unsolved: The status of Moses Green at the time of visitation in St. Joseph’s Church. No one had been able to state definitively whether Green had been dead or alive during his first placement in the casket. The Church’s official decision was against the possibility of a miracle. The extensive coverage in the media-especially in the stories written by Pat Lennon-painted such a dark image of Green that many who had believed, now discredited the miraculous. To Father Koesler’s relief, parish life in St. Joe’s had returned to what passed for normal.
Established: The police investigation was closed. The official cause of Moses Green’s death was left “undetermined.”
Established: Father Daniel Reichert was in Cardinal Boyle’s doghouse, with a one-month suspension from priestly activities. However, Father Reichert remained adamant about the miracles in St. Joseph’s Church. Few were any longer in agreement.
Unsolved: The questions that lingered in Father Koesler’s mind.
That was why Father Koesler had come to the McGovern Funeral Home.
After the autopsy, the remains of Moses Green had, at his widow’s wish, been cremated. The cremains were to be buried in the Green family plot, where one day he would be joined by his widow and, perhaps, their children.
Now, with everything freshly completed, a memorial service was scheduled for noon that day. No one could foretell how many would gather for this ceremony. Not many were expected.
Father Koesler arrived early. He hoped to find some answers for his many questions. At 11:30 A.M., he was the first to arrive.
Koesler studied the display of some portraits and candid shots of the late doctor, his family and a few hangers-on. He felt he was “getting acquainted.” He had never met Moses Green-in either of the doctor’s lives. Koesler had never even seen the doctor, except in his casket, falling out of it and, finally, after the fact, on his deathbed.
Koesler heard a commotion. It reminded him of something, but he was unsure of what. He turned. There, standing in the doorway was Sophie-good old Aunt Sophie. The last time he had seen her she’d been knocking Dan Reichert head over heels, and then, as it were, awakening the dead.
So imposing was she that it was not until she had approached him that he noticed that Margie Green, overshadowed by Sophie’s presence, had entered the room.
Sophie looked Koesler up and down several times. Finally, she spoke. “So, you’re the priest. Such a waste!”
Koesler was unsure how to take the remark. The implications ran from his being worth nothing to his being a desirable but unattainable male. Since Sophie was smiling, he took the remark as meant to be positive.
“We got to talk,” Sophie ordered.
Koesler had come primarily to talk to Mrs. Green. But a postponement of that conversation now seemed inescapable.
“Come in here.” Sophie led the way into an alcove where they could have some privacy. Koesler followed her.
Conveniently, there were just two upholstered chairs in the tiny room.
Sophie sat in one chair and shifted until her bulk was comfortable.
Then, a remarkable transformation occurred. Aunt Sophie seemed to leave a persona behind. She spoke English devoid of the Yiddish dialect and delivery. She also lost her comic appearance.
“I think it’s important for you to know something,” she said, making strong eye contact. “You put your neck on the chopping block for Moe when you let him be waked in your church. And, as far as I’ve been able to learn, you’ve been involved in this thing ever since.
“Maybe I’m wrong, but you might be sucked into this thing deeper even than you know.”
She had Koesler’s undivided attention.
