William Kienzle - Requiem for Moses

“Convenient,” Tully said as if to himself. “Did she notify anyone she would be out?”

“Not exactly,” Judith said. “I talked to her-I called her-just before she left. She told me she was going shopping. I was a little surprised that she would leave him alone for so long. I called Dave and asked him if we should come over.”

“And,” David took up the explanation, “I think I very sensibly suggested that we could spend the rest of our lives taking turns sitting with Dad anytime Mother had to go out. So we decided not to come over.”

“You have keys to this apartment?”

David shook his head. “No, but the manager knows us. He lets us in when it’s necessary.”

“Besides,” Koesler said, “the apartment has no dead bolt or any additional locks. When I visited here, Mrs. Green told me they refused to live in fear or make a prison out of their home.”

They all looked at Koesler with some surprise; they had forgotten he was there.

Tully’s brow furrowed. “I see,” he said. “The entire population of the city of Detroit handled the morphine bottle and the same number had access to this apartment.”

“The door never was a serious concern,” David said. “These apartment condos are pretty well filled and active. Not many strangers could get by the average busy corridor. And the doormen filter out the uninvited. Anyway, smart or not, that’s the way Mom and Dad wanted it. And, as far as passing that bottle around … it was just instinctive. We weren’t concerned about ‘evidence.’ Dad had taken his own life. That’s all we were thinking.”

“Is there anything else you want us for just now?” Bill Gray asked. “Judy could really use some rest. And so could I, as well as Dave, I’m sure.”

Tully paused. “Okay, you can leave. But there’s sure to be more questions. Stick around town and stay available.”

They got their coats and prepared to leave. Judy paused and stepped back into the room. “Do you think it would be all right if I looked in on Mother now?”

“Don’t,” Fox said. “She needs this rest. If she can sleep through the noise the police are making, she doesn’t need to be awakened. I’ve asked the police to search her bedroom last.”

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. And Billy Bob didn’t know the going rate since it was the Good Old Boys’ first contract killing.”

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.”

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.