Chameleon

night.

No struggle. Did the perp sneak up behind her, unnoticed, as Tully initially concluded? Or, another distinct possibility, had she known her killer and, unsuspecting, put up no fight?

Sergeant Angie Moore approached, Together, she and Tully stepped out of the cold into the building’s foyer. Moore filled him in on her interrogation of Sister Joan, the actual nun.

A few details, such as what a delegate for religious did, Tully had to take on secular faith. A “religious” in the Catholic sense of the term had a specific meaning that was lost on Tully. But he listened carefully. All Moore’s information was absorbed into the practiced computer of his mind. There it would be stored and even much later he would be able to call it up.

No sooner had Moore completed her report than Sergeant Phil Mangiapane, also a member of Tully’s squad, arrived on the scene.

Mangiapane was enthused. It was an emotion that came easily to him. “Zoo,” he said, “we nailed her john of last night.” He pulled out his notepad and flipped it open. “One Henry Taylor, a very scared haberdasher from Toledo. In town on a buying trip. We’re detaining him temporarily at the Pontch. Right now, he’s wishing he’d left town last night. Or, better, never come.”

“How’d it go?” Tully asked.

“Pretty good. At first he flat-out denied he knew who we were talking about. Even after we showed him the picture we got from her sister. But when we showed him his hotel room number in Donovan’s date book and produced the bellboy who not only noticed Donovan in the hotel last night but remembered her taking the elevator with Taylor after he picked her up in the lobby, there wasn’t much he could deny.”

“So?”

“He said that after she left, he went to bed. But then we got lucky. The same bellboy who spotted the two of them enter the elevator said that he saw Donovan leave the hotel at about midnight. He was sure of the time because he was just about to end his shift. He saw her climb into a cab-a Checker cab. Then who should leave the hotel-hat and coat on-but Henry Taylor.

“When we confronted him with this, Taylor said that oh, yeah, he forgot that after she left, he took a short walk outside for a few minutes.”

“And the bellboy?”

“Didn’t know where Taylor might have gone. He just saw the guy leave the hotel and then he went off duty.”

“Did the guy drive here from Toledo?”

“Yeah.”

“So he had his car at the hotel. Could he have known where shewas going?”

Mangiapane shrugged, “If he did, only him and the Donovan girl know. And he ain’t gonna volunteer anything like that.”

“Okay,” Tully agreed, “Granted, the chance is slim, but say he knew she was returning here, Or say he was able to get in his car in time to follow the cab here,” He stopped, then shook his head. “No, if he did that, how could he have had time to get to the bushes and be lying in wait for her?” He looked at Mangiapane. “Did you get a make on the cab?”

“Not yet,” Mangiapane said. “Checker’s a big company. But it shouldn’t be hard. We know the approximate time Donovan left the Pontch and that she ended up here.”

“Wait a second,” Moore said. “If it’s this Taylor guy, how come he didn’t take his money back?” Pause. “And also destroy the date book that had any reference to his ‘appointment’ in it?”

Mangiapane shook his head. He had not considered these discrepancies.

“Maybe,” Tully said, “he didn’t think he had any time to fool around after the gunshot.” Then why did he take the time to drag her body all around? “Maybe he panicked and ran.” Same question. “Maybe he didn’t think of it. Maybe all he could think of was getting even with her.” For what? “Revenge.” For what? “And maybe”-he looked at both of them-”this isn’t our best lead. But it’s a warm body, it’s possible, and we’ve got him.

“Who’s on the cabbie?”

“Martin,” Mangiapane replied.

“Good. How about Donovan’s apartment?”

“The guys called just a while ago, Zoo,” Moore said. “They found her register. Lots of names and numbers.”

“Very good.” Tully was pleasantly surprised that so many leads were paying off. “Number one priority after you wring this Taylor out, start on the johns. Few people can get sorer the day after than a John.”

“We’ll get on it right away, Zoo,” Moore said. Then she added, “You know, in this city, it could have been just about anybody. A guy high on crack or ice, or anybody on the lookout for an easy mark-or just some kook with a gun sees a woman alone at night.”

Tully sighed. “I know, I know. But one thing argues against that: whoever did it didn’t touch her purse-and she had a bundle in it.”

“He didn’t see it?”

“Long straps. She wore it over her shoulder. He couldn’t have missed it. No,” Tully said, “I’m going for someone she knew. And a john is my first choice.”

“On that theory, Zoo,” Moore said, “it could have been somebody who knew her and disapproved of her being a hooker. There are a lot of squirrelly people in the so-called moral majority. Especially if someone like that saw her in nun’s garb and figured that she might have been a hooker. After all, waiting around in a hotel lobby and being picked up by a john! Could get a righteous man’s blood boiling. Or a woman’s,” she added.

“Good mought, Angie,” Tully said. “And we’ve got someone right now who could fit that profile. Angie, make sure the sister, the real nun, gets a paraffin test.”

“The nun!” Mangiapane could not conceive of a nun/murderer.

“The nun,” Tully affirmed. “She must have been plenty embarrassed by her sister’s line of work. A stain on the family’s reputation. A nun, known by friends and acquaintances as sister of a call girl. Let’s just see if she’s fired a gun recently.”

“It may be too late to test, Zoo,” Moore said.

“But possible. Do it right away, Angie.”

Moore left, though she was not eager to put the nun through this test. But it was a homicide and there was little if any room for sympathetic feelings.

Tully turned to Mangiapane. “One other possibility comes to mind. But it would make our job so miserable I don’t even want to think about it.”

“What’s that, Zoo?”

“A case of mistaken identity.”

“You mean somebody meant to kill the real nun?”

Tully nodded. “Helen Donovan was dressed exactly like her sister Joan. Wearing Joan’s habit even. They’re the same build, You saw Helen’s picture and you saw the real nun. They look enough alike to pass for sisters even if you didn’t know they were related. Say somebody wants to kill Joan. But the one who shows up dressed like Joan, looks like Joan, is headed for where Joan lives, is Helen.”

“Okay, but one thing, Zoo: If somebody’s lying in wait for Joan, how does he know she’ll be coming back so late at night? Or, as it turns out, so early in the morning? Most of the nuns I’ve known get to bed kind of early. Why would anybody figure a nun would be coming home at midnight?”

“The answer to that came out when Moore was interrogating Joan. The nun says her department business keeps her out late almost every night. If someone was stalking her, he’d know that.”

“Geez!”

“Yeah. It’s one thing to off a hooker. And quite another thing to intend the murder of a nun. If that’s the case, we’re in for some long days and nights.”

“Geez!”