get people sniggering and joining her fun and-most important-quoting her. They’ll probably have a chorus or two of ‘Sometimes I Feel Like a Shepherdless Sheep’” at The Fast Lane.
“And the piece about the mayor? I’ll bet she hasn’t the slightest idea what’s going on in his life. Maybe one night she spotted Cobb and a woman get into his car. And he’s got the blacked-out windows. Take over, imagination!
“And if you happen to become a victim, you’d better grin and bear it. The alternative is madness. But the same thing that happened before could happen again.”
“You mean-?”
“Yeah-she screwed a bunch of people when she was working her way up the Freep ladder on her back-and the same ones thumbed their noses at her as she slid back down and out. It could just happen again.”
“Let us pray,” Pringle intoned.
They both laughed. They needed that.
13
It was several hours after the end of his shift, but-not unusual-Lieutenant Tully was still at work. Frequently he worked late or arrived early or both. What was odd was that he was not working on a homicide-his life’s obsession; rather, he was trying to close an obstinate missing persons investigation. He had gathered all the material his team had uncovered and brought it into the office of his immediate superior, Inspector Walter Koznicki. The two were going through it together for what Tully fervently hoped would be the final time.
Tully knew that Koznicki would be under continuing pressure to keep this investigation going-pressure from the chief, the mayor, and … what’s his name … Dunstable. That was the direction from which this missing persons case had emerged. And if the investigation were to be abandoned, each man would have to convince the next man, in reverse order. So it would be a tad more difficult to convince Koznicki it was over. Koznicki himself would see the light easily. But the inspector would have to anticipate objections from the chief, he in turn from the mayor, and so on.
Still it was important to close the book on this case and move on to more appropriate investigations. So Tully dove in.
“I must admit, Walt,” Tully arranged the notes and documents so the inspector could view them in some sort of order, “when we started on this thing, I didn’t think we had any business getting … involved.”
“You made that eminently clear, Alonzo.” Koznicki almost smiled, “And now …?”
“Now I have to admit that Keating not only started out for Detroit a week ago, he got here-certainly his car did-and he may not have left Detroit.”
“You think, then …?”
“There’s no reason in the world for him to be a missing person of his own free will. As far as we could determine, he had everything in the world to live for. He was head of the wealthiest parish in the Detroit diocese. Have you ever been in the priest’s house there?.”
Koznicki shook his head as he continued to scan the documents while listening to Tully.
“I’ve been in ritzier homes,” Tully said, “but not many. I didn’t think priests lived that high. He didn’t get any more money in salary than any other priest, but he plugged into the lifestyle of the richest people in the Bloomfield Hills area. Vacations in the Caribbean, Vail, you name it-around the world, literally. Why would anyone want to leave that?”
Koznicki thought for a moment. “You may have touched on a possible reason, Alonzo. I agree with everything you have said thus far. In many ways, Father Keating has been living an enviable life. But, generally, I believe you are correct in your belief that priests do not live such a luxurious lifestyle. So, is that not the material from which conflict is made?”
“I don’t-“
“What I mean, Alonzo, is that I can imagine a priest who lives that well experiencing … what might be called a crisis of conscience.” Koznicki selected one of the documents and indicated an item on it. “From your own notation, Alonzo. I believe this is part of your conversation with Father Koesler, when Father tells you of the bequest left Father Keating by his parents. Instead of being as generous to their only child as they might, they left the bulk of their estate to various charities and only enough to their son so that, with prudent care or management, he would be fairly comfortable for life-but not really wealthy.
“That indicates to me that the parents, though very well off themselves, felt that the vocation their son chose should bear some witness to the life of Christ. Catholics sometimes refer to their priests as ‘other Christs.’”
“God knows, Walt, I don’t know much about religion. But the word poverty doesn’t come to mind when I think of that priest’s house-or the neighborhood, for that matter.”
“Exactly, Alonzo. Thus the conceivable conflict. It was not that he was schooled or trained to live lavishly. True, his parents were wealthy, but they definitely communicated moderation, particularly in their bequest. According to Father Koesler again,” Koznicki adjusted his bifocals, “Father Keating’s seminary experience was indistinguishable from the others. He was comfortable with the benefits that money can bring. But he was ‘one of the boys.’ And in his earlier days in the priesthood he continued to be ‘one of the boys,’ joining his fellow priests in modest vacations and trips. It was not until he was assigned to St. Waldo’s that he began to lose touch with his confreres. As you have pointed out, in recent years he seems to have changed, living on a considerably higher scale than most other priests.
“Put it all together, Alonzo, and I believe we come up with a considerably different picture than that of a priest enjoying the life of Riley. On the surface he could easily be described as having the best of all possible worlds. But I believe it very possible that inwardly he may have felt very deeply that he might be betraying his vocational commitment. While seemingly not disturbed, he may have been very touched inwardly. He might even have been extremely distressed-depressed even. Did your investigation turn up any suggestion that he might be suffering from clinical depression-even a hint of something of that order? Was he seeing a psychotherapist of any sort?”
Tully had in no way anticipated Koznicki’s line of thought and inquiry. Nor did he agree with the inspector’s hypothesis. But he gave Koznicki’s questions some thought.
“I don’t know that anyone can answer that question, Walt,” he said, finally. “Seems Keating was away and unaccounted for a good bit of the time. Where he was, what he did when he was away from the parish, has to be anybody’s guess. He could just as easily have been seeing a shrink anywhere from once in a while to regularly. But if he was, he kept it real quiet. There were no notations on his calendar of any such appointments, although there were recorded appointments with his regular GP and his dentist.”
“And what did his doctor have to say?”
“Reluctant at first, naturally. But when we convinced him, he opened up. Even so, he still didn’t say much. Keating was in good shape for his age; a bit overweight, but he handled it well. There was no mention at all of any emotional problem, or any referral to a shrink. But, like I say, anything was possible in all the time he was away. And there was nothing, now that I think of it, on any of his check stubs that showed a payment to any shrink. Though God knows he had enough accounts. I can’t say we even found all of them. The guy is simply hard to pin down. He may have been torn up inside, but he sure as hell didn’t show it on the outside. Everybody we talked to painted a picture of somebody who really enjoyed life-had everything to live for.”
“So …?”
“The bottom line is, we haven’t found him-dead or alive. And we really tried. I can’t think of another missing person who’s had as many cops looking for him. The ’burb cops did a very professional job. Together we talked to just about everybody who might have an informed opinion. Nada! It was like everybody could think of hundreds of people who might just walk away from things, but not Keating. Not Keating.”
“And the Costello family?”
Tully scratched his five o’clock shadow. “That is where I changed my mind on the necessity of our getting involved in looking for him. I didn’t buy the possibility that he might be dead until I heard that his car had been found in that neighborhood.”
“And what of the fact that the car was found just outside the Costello home? Why would they leave such a
