William Kienzle - Requiem for Moses

“There were so many other examples. When I talked with you in your apartment, you revealed in a few words your true attitude toward your husband. It was utterly without either respect or love.

“Once I was able to appreciate your character and your obvious strengths, what had been going on lately became quite clear. Sophie’s revelation was no more than frosting on the cake. Shall I tell you what I believe went on behind the scene?”

She leaned forward, elbow on knee, chin in the palm of her hand. “It’s your little hypothesis. Go ahead and play with it.”

Koesler noted she had not consulted her watch since her earlier glance.

“Moses Green has been wheeling and dealing from God knows how early in his life. He did pretty well before you came on the scene. Since then, he has done spectacularly. You have steered him down facile paths and away from gross excess as far as you were able. Actually, he has become pretty much a figurehead. As Jake Cameron noted, you are the brains of the enterprise.

“But it hasn’t been easy. He escaped your control from time to time. More frequently lately.

“The elderly priest who was in charge of my seminary training had a clever and effective device when he wanted to show us how angry he was with us. He would remove his glasses and fling them on the desk in front of him. There, the glasses would spin toward the edge of the desk. But they never went over the edge. It was an impressive spectacle. And it taught me something about human nature.

“There are people who enjoy pushing others to the full limit. To do that effectively, they have to know exactly when and where to stop. Sadists, for example, seem to sense just how much abuse their masochist partners can tolerate. If such a sadist makes an error in judgment and goes too far, he or she may very well kill that partner, unintentionally.

“That, I think, is what happened to your husband. As I listened at the wake to one after another of these horror stories of what Dr. Green was doing to these people, it became clear that he was out of control: He no longer knew where or when to stop. At the end of each account I remember thinking it was a good thing that Moses died of natural causes. Because Jake Cameron and the others had been pushed into such a tight corner that each of them would have very strong motivation to kill him.

“I believe that was when you stepped in-when everything was coming apart. It so fits your personality to intervene at that point.

“It must have occurred to your husband as well. It had come to a point where either Moses would have to kill his victims because he had pushed them too far, or one of them would have to kill him.

“The next move had to be yours. It was too brilliant and daring to be anyone else’s. It was the concept that kept eluding me, bumping against the back of my consciousness.

“The most prevalent hypotheses had it that either one of the victims attempted the murder, but failed-or, that if Dr. Green had attempted suicide, he had failed.

“There was another possibility: He could have attempted to put himself into a coma-and succeeded.

“But I don’t think he could-or especially would -try it by himself. It would be far too risky. He had to have help. And that’s where you came in.”

Koesler paused, waiting expectantly for Margie to join in this narrative. She gave no indication of doing so.

“Well,” he went on, “it’s my guess there was a good deal of experimentation. In effect, the goal was somewhat the same as in that movie, Flatliners; Moses would place himself at the edge of death and, as planned, return. He had gone too far now; in his flawed frame of mind he saw this-bizarre as it was-as his only chance. And you, of course, encouraged him-after all, what did you have to lose?

“The way I see it, you didn’t come in and find your husband ‘dead.’ You very carefully monitored his condition until he stabilized in the coma. At all times, you had a supply of Narcan available. If something went radically wrong, you had only to inject that drug to reverse the effect of the morphine.”

Margie opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it, closed her mouth, and shook her head.

Koesler, after a moment, continued. “Of course, in all this, timing was extremely important. For one, you had to be sure that no matter what happened that you, not your son, would be your husband’s heir. You couldn’t allow him to die during a period when he had named David as his sole heir. Moses knew this, so he made sure that when his bogus ‘death’ occurred, his will did name David. He felt that would insure your complete efforts toward reviving him. Later, after ‘coming back to life,’ the will was rewritten to name you as sole heir.

“As for your husband’s coma, a doctor I met at Police Headquarters, Dr. Price, I believe, addressed that question without having access to Moses-thus, necessarily hypothetically. Based on what little we knew, her opinion was that he had progressed to the most shallow stage of his coma when Sophie entered the picture. Sophie couldn’t have been part of the original scenario. But she jostled the casket around, stimulating in Moses, according to Dr. Price, a series of anxiety reactions that brought him to a recovering edge of the coma.

“I am certain that without Sophie’s intervention, and if your husband had not yet recovered, you would have injected the Narcan probably after the wake service when everyone was getting ready to leave.

“And that takes care of the so-called ‘miracle.’”

“And”-Margie had not changed posture-“the purpose of the miracle?”

Koesler shrugged. “Seems to me the purpose was to buy time and suggest a reason for a dramatic change. Moses would be, and indeed to a great number of people he became, a living legend. His victims, if they did have murder in mind, would want to at least wait and see what this ‘new’ Moses Green would become and do. Having visited the ‘next world,’ maybe he could have changed. He could withdraw his demand that Cameron be ousted from the Virago organization he’d created. Moses could have at least called off his threat to ruin Bill Gray’s incipient law career. He could have released his son from involuntary servitude.

“It might have taken a long time to convince them he had really changed-partly, because in reality he hadn’t changed at all. It was just that in trapping them he had trapped himself. And he was frightened.

“And that,” Koesler concluded this part of his admitted hypothesis, “takes care of everybody except Claire McNern and Stan Lacki.”

“I don’t know them,” Margie stated. “Oh, I knew the McNern woman. I made it a point to keep pretty close tabs on Moe’s lady loves. After all, the diseases they were putting themselves at risk for were communicable.”

“I would be willing to believe you didn’t know Stan Lacki up to maybe a week ago,” Koesler said. “But then two things happened. One was the media coverage given this story. If you had done nothing more than read Pat Lennon’s reports, you would have been very much aware of Claire and Stan and what your husband had done that affected both of them so cruelly. Of course the accounts only hinted at the extent of the doctor’s actions; it was ‘alleged,’ ‘claimed,’ ‘inferred,’ and the like. But knowing your husband as you did, you could read past the disclaimers and come to your own stronger conclusions.

“Then you found the check made out to GOB Company and signed by your husband. You realized then that your husband was responsible for murder-not only the murder of his own child, but the murder of his ex-mistress and her fiance.”

Her expression changed for only a moment. One would have to have been looking for the flicker to catch it. Koesler was looking. “You were Jake Cameron’s cashier. You were the brains of his and your husband’s business. You guided your husband’s finances and business. Surely you would have access to his financial records, including his checkbook. Especially since he must have been recovering slowly from his coma.