William Kienzle - Masquerade

Silence.

“So,” Tully said, “Winer came here to have it out once and for all with Krieg.”

“Do you think it possible the rabbi intended murder as a last resort?” Koznicki asked.

“Sure sounds like it,” Tully replied.

“Father Koesler has told us of his surprise at the hostility toward Krieg not only on the rabbi’s part, but from all the other writers,” Koznicki said. “Is it possible. .?”

Tully nodded. “Angie, go get Krieg. He’s in the dining room.”

Shortly, Moore returned with Krieg.

“Reverend,” Tully said, “Sergeant Moore here just got done talking with Rabbi Winer’s widow.”

“Praise God! Poor woman.”

“Yeah. Mrs. Winer said you know about a … uh. . a very compromising situation in the rabbi’s past and that you were blackmailing him, threatening to reveal his secret, unless he signed a contract with you.”

Krieg smiled in plastic benevolence.

“True?” Tully’s tone betrayed there was little fuse left.

“Whyever would a minister of the Gospel do a thing like that?”

“You deny it, then?”

“What’s to deny? Are there letters? Documents? Tape recordings of any such threat I might have made to the good rabbi, Lord rest his soul?”

Tully glanced at Moore, who shook her head.

“No hard evidence, Reverend, of any threat; just your word against the widow’s,” Tully said. “But what we’ve learned from Mrs. Winer explains a lot. So this is off the record. Rabbi Winer stood to lose everything. He came here allegedly to settle things with you. His plans might have included murder.”

“He was a man of God!” Krieg protested.

“So are you,” Tully shot back. “So are all the others in this crazy conference.” Tully slipped into a more conciliatory attitude. “Reverend, it’s been observed that you are not much liked by the writers here. Some of us have been wondering why that is. Mrs. Winer gave us an excellent reason-at least as far as her husband was concerned.”

“But I-”

“Hold on just a moment, Reverend,” Tully said. “We are not officially accusing you of anything like blackmail. And you don’t have to deny or answer to anything. Right now, anyway,” he added. “But let’s just suppose-for the sake of argument-that Mrs. Winer was on to something. Suppose her husband did have a skeleton in his closet. Suppose you knew about it. Suppose you told him you would pull that skeleton out of the closet if he didn’t sign a contract with your publishing company. Something he very much didn’t want to do. Suppose that was the reason he showed such hostility toward you.

“Now, as far as the casual observer was concerned, the high degree of hostility Winer had for you was excessive, inappropriate-improbable, to say the least. But not if you throw in blackmail.

“With blackmail thrown into the pot, it all makes sense. In fact, it would be a credible reason why Winer might want to kill you-absent some lesser way to get you off his back.

“But, instead of making an attempt on your life, Winer is murdered, with a poisoned drink meant for you. His mistake inadvertently saved your life.

“Now, who besides Winer would hate you enough to attempt to kill you? Well, for openers, how about the remaining three writers on this panel? There doesn’t seem to be much difference in the way any of them feel about you.

“Why would they show feelings toward you just like Winer’s? Could it be for the same reason Winer had?

“Whatever their reasons, I think you know why they don’t particularly care for you. And there’s one thing you’d better remember: Whoever tried to kill you missed. We haven’t caught that person yet, so he or she is still out there and still hates you enough to try to kill you.

“If I were you, I would be awfully, awfully careful. And, think about it, Reverend: You may just want to talk to us. It would give us a leg up if we knew what this person’s motive was.

“Now we can’t force you to talk to us, but if you think about it carefully enough, you might just want to.”

During Tully’s admonition to Krieg, Koesler studied the televangelist closely. It was interesting to watch the smile slide almost imperceptibly from plastic to rubber.

Strange man, Koesler concluded. He’d seemed more annoyed than shocked when he had learned of Rabbi Winer’s death. Not unlike an investor learning the market had suffered through a very bearish day. Which simile probably wasn’t far from the truth in this case.

For one reason or another, Krieg seemed to have had every expectation that he could persuade the rabbi to sign with P.G. Press. Blackmail? So, with Winer’s demise, Krieg had lost an investment. One surely would expect considerably more from the minister. But. .

And then, when it became clear that Winer had died from a poison meant for him, Krieg had looked as though he were close to death from mere shock.

Yet when Tully began talking to Krieg just now, the Reverend appeared to have put the incident out of his mind. As if it had never happened. But it was obvious all along that the murderer was still free. Free to try again. Did Krieg think that, having failed, the killer would give up?

Whatever Krieg may have thought, Tully’s lecture had brought the preacher back to earth with a thud.

Would Krieg now break down and confide in the police? Koesler guessed that the secret of what was going on between Krieg and the writers hid something that was translatable into a lot of money in the coffers of P.G. Press. A great deal of money on one side of the scale; human life-perhaps Krieg’s own-on the other side.

Koesler was reminded of the routine of the late comedian Jack Benny, in which a thief approaches Benny and says, “Your money or your life.” An extended silence follows. The thief exasperatedly repeats, “Your money or your life!” And Benny replies, “I’m thinking! I’m thinking!”

That must be what Krieg was doing now: thinking about either protecting his life or possibly adding significantly to his fortune.

Koesler had time to develop all these thoughts because Tully tolerated a lengthy silence during which one could almost perceive wheels turning in Krieg’s mind. In the end, it became apparent Krieg was not going to cooperate.

“All right,” Tully said, “we’re going back into the dining room. Angie, I want you to tell the others what you told us about your conversation with Mrs. Winer.”

The others, being interviewed in various parts of the dining room, one on one with police officers, seemed startled at the sight of Koznicki, Tully, Moore, Krieg, and Koesler entering. The interviews were put on hold while Tully introduced Moore.

In a more concise fashion than she had in the corridor, Moore recounted her conversation with Mrs. Winer. Tully noted the writers’ reactions carefully. So did Koesler. They all seemed genuinely moved with pity for the rabbi’s widow and absorbed by the rabbi’s concentration camp ordeal.

At a signal from Tully, Moore stopped short of explicit mention of blackmail. The conclusion was left to the listeners to draw. To a person, they seemed to make the connection and arrive at the inevitable conclusion.

As Moore ended her narrative, Tully asked for questions.

None.

Did anyone have any comment?

No one. Everyone seemed determined to tough it out.

Very well, then. Tully directed the detectives to resume their interviews.

In a low voice, Tully directed Moore to commence a supplementary investigation into the backgrounds of the three remaining writers. “Just in case there’s something to this blackmail thing,” he said, “dig around. See what turns up. Take two or three from our squad. If you need more help, see me.”

Things were frozen in a status quo that Koesler did not find at all auspicious. He prayed that something would break, something would happen, before another life would be forfeited.