William Kienzle - Masquerade

Another significant pause. Tully beckoned Mangiapane to him. He whispered to Mangiapane, who nodded and left the room. Koesler didn’t know what that was about, but, he reflected, it was not the first time someone had walked out on one of his sermons.

At length, Krieg looked at Koesler and spoke. “So Jews would consider me to be Jewish. So what?”

“No,” Koesler said, “I think you’ll find that if the Jews accept you as one of them-and they have very strict laws governing who is Jewish-the rest of the world will agree with them.

“But back to the building blocks. Once we establish the fact that you grew up being Jewish, lots of other details fall into place. The first, and most important, of these blocks is that your situation is precisely the same as the four writers you were blackmailing. You could not afford-any more than they-to have your secret revealed.

“How would it look for one of the world’s leading Christian evangelists to be Jewish? Your considerable following may or may not be sympathetic to the cause of Israel as a state. But how would they, as fundamentalist Christians, react to being led by a Jew? If your ancestry were revealed, you stand to lose everything. Not unlike the nun, the monk, the rabbi, and the priest, eh?

“So, then, I ask myself, what if one of the writers discovered your secret? What would happen if one of them found out you were Jewish? If I could discover this secret, surely someone else could. The problem would be in arriving at the initial suspicion that you might have Jewish ancestry. Who would be in a position to suspect such a thing?

“Maybe Marie, Augustine, or David Benbow would search for some flaw in your background to use as a bargaining chip. But where would they look? To your private life? To your corporate affairs? They would not find anything, would they?

“But of course there was another person of Jewish heritage in our group: Rabbi Winer.

“A few moments ago I told you I called Sacred Heart parish in Imlay City. I neglected to mention that when I asked for your record of baptism and your parents’ record of marriage, my classmate commented that mine was the second call this week for those very same records. I asked who had called for them and he said an official with the Windsor tribunal. Now, isn’t that an odd coincidence?”

Judging by the reaction of everyone in the room, including Krieg, the consensus was, yes, that was an extremely odd coincidence.

“Well,” Koesler continued, “that somewhat complicated my line of thought. And I do not relish complications. I had to find out who else was interested in these documents.

“I’ve been in situations similar to Father Dunn’s, when a call will come from a chancery or tribunal in some other diocese for one record or another. There’s nothing particularly secret about such information. The presumption is that another diocese has need of the record, so you give the information readily, without question. It was the coincidence-that our neighboring diocese in Canada and I should want the same information at roughly the same time.

“So I phoned the Windsor tribunal and found-not to my great surprise, really-that no one there had called for such information.

“Then I checked with the college’s switchboard for outgoing long distance calls from Rabbi Winer’s room. And what do you suppose? There was a call to Imlay City. Clever of the rabbi to masquerade as a tribunal official. But why did he do it?

“I don’t know what Rabbi Winer may have observed before we assembled here at Marygrove. P.G. may have published a specialized treatment of rabbis or Judaism, I don’t know. But I do know that Rabbi Winer saw the same things I saw on Sunday evening. It was his joke whose punch line you stole, Reverend. He might have wondered how you would be familiar with the Yiddish word for ultimate frustration or agony. But, I understand that many non-Jews, especially those who’ve been in the military service, or those who’ve heard Myron Cohen’s act, or those who have Jewish friends, may well be familiar with either that specific joke and/or that specific word.

“And, having toyed with-but not touched-his serving of beef Stroganoff, he saw you order a special dinner that began and ended with dairy products and not meat. That, in itself, of course, would not have been nearly enough for the rabbi to arrive at any hard conclusion. Except that he, like the others, was looking for something, anything. And he would have been much more sensitized to Jewish dietary laws than a Gentile. Apparently, it was enough to trigger his inquisitiveness. He had access to the same press release I saw. He knew you were born in Imlay City and that you had been a Catholic. Proof was only a phone call away-for him as well as for me.

“Once he learned that you were officially Jewish, he saw his magic bargaining chip. And it was evident in his behavior. Before his discovery he meekly agreed to appear at this convocation and was submissive to you at dinner.

“And then came the remarkable transition. Rabbi Winer challenged you among ourselves, and before the students. Indeed, the rabbi was the only one of this faculty who dared oppose you publicly.

“You know, I’ve always thought one of the strongest proofs for the resurrection of Jesus was the transformation of the Apostles. From the first time we meet them as Jesus calls them to follow Him, the Apostles never come off as particularly admirable or courageous men. And that includes their deserting Jesus when he was crucified. Then, something very definitely happened. Something had to have happened for these ordinary men, who very justly could have been termed cowards, to change so dramatically. One day they are cowering behind locked doors, hiding from their enemies. Then, suddenly, they become fearless. They are transformed, in an instant, into true, brave, and courageous followers of Jesus.

“Something had to have happened. I believe it had to be the resurrection of Jesus-his triumph over death-just as they claimed.

“Well, to a lesser degree, something had to have happened in the life of Irving Winer. One day he meekly comes to this assembly when summoned. The next day he becomes the one and only fearless opponent of Reverend Krieg. Something had to have happened. I believe, Reverend, it was the discovery of your Jewish heritage. He knew. He knew.

“He must have told you on Monday what he had discovered. You probably denied it, but he had the proof.

“You saw that your only hope was in getting rid of the only one who knew your secret. You didn’t have much time but you used it well. He knew your secret and you knew his. It was a Mexican stand-off. You had to find a way of upsetting that balance in your favor.

“And that, Reverend, is why you killed him.”

“Now, wait!”

But Krieg’s voice no longer snapped with a commanding tone.

“After dinner on Sunday,” Koesler continued, “you offered us drinks from your impressive supply. We each selected a liqueur. As the polite host, naturally you chose last. You chose the Frangelico-which happened to be the same bottle Rabbi Winer had selected. Later, you took advantage of that coincidence. Then, when the rabbi was found dead from drinking the poisoned Frangelico, we reached the conclusion you were leading us to.

“And, maybe-now that I think of it-we may just have uncovered another reason why you wanted the police in on this and why you made sure I’d be here and, you hoped, would summon the police.

“As far as Marie, Augustine, and Benbow were concerned, you held all the cards. The possibility that you might have had a secret past likely would never have occurred to any of them. But Rabbi Winer shared your Jewish heritage, at least in part. If any one of your victims might have stumbled upon your secret it surely would have been the Rabbi. You must have had good reason to fear that something-some unconscious habit, some quirk of behavior-might give the Rabbi cause to delve into your background and ferret out the truth you feared might be discovered. And, indeed, it seems he did.