Alex Kava - A Necessary Evil

He hadn't realized he was yelling until Jill had rolled over and thrown a pillow at him. At the time it didn't stop him. He had simply readjusted his cell phone between his chin and shoulder while he put on his other shoe.

Damn it!

He wished he had time to stop at Christine's and change into something other than blue jeans and Nikes. But it was more important that he get there early, beat the cops in case he still had to drill it into Tony's thick skull that he was skating on thin ice. Whatever it was Tony thought he knew and thought he had an obligation to hide, it wasn't worth being hassled by the cops. Not cops looking for a murder suspect.

'Tell them that you can't be leaving the school," Nick had continued, "especially now that the summer session has begun. You can't be running downtown whenever they have another question they forgot to ask. Tell them to come to you. Tell them if they want to ask you any more questions we'll meet at your office… in an hour."

Now as he walked up the sidewalk to Our Lady of Sorrow High School, he wondered what other questions they could possibly have for Tony. He found him alone in his second-floor office. Thank goodness. This morning Tony wore his black trousers, black shirt and white priest collar.

"Excellent," Nick told his friend, pointing to the collar. "Anything to remind them they're fucking around with a man of the cloth. Jesus! Sorry, I didn't mean to __ "

"Curse in front of a man of the cloth and then take the son of God's name in vain?" But Tony was smiling as he said it.

"What did they say about meeting here?"

"No problem. In fact, Detective Pakula said while they're here they'd like to take a look at Monsignor O'Sullivan's office. Did you see the morning news?"

"No. You woke me up. Last night Jill and I __ " He stopped himself. There were some things he wouldn't share with his friend, priest or no priest. "No, I haven't seen the news for a couple of days,"

"A priest was killed on Saturday night in Columbia, Missouri. The OPD's called in an FBI specialist. Sounds like they think both murders might be connected."

"You're kidding," Nick said, dropping into the old easy chair Tony kept in the corner. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not. If this was a serial killer, why did they still want to question Tony?

As if he could read Nick's mind, Tony shrugged. "So, see, they can't possibly suspect me. How could I have gotten to Columbia, Missouri on Saturday night? It's, like, a five-hour drive."

"Of course they don't think you're a suspect," Nick said while wondering how Tony just happened to know how long-the drive was. "So, Monsignor O'Sullivan wasn't some random murder in an airport bathroom."

"Guess not," Tony said, standing by the window, watching for the cops.

"I have to ask you something." Nick waited for him to look his way. "Remember I told you yesterday that Christine said there've been allegations about Monsignor O'Sullivan? I know I told you that I understood if something was going on that you probably couldn't talk about it, but under the circumstances it really would help if you tell me what the hell you know. Had anyone accused the monsignor of… you know, acting inappropriately with any of the students?"

Tony glanced out the window. "I honestly don't know, Nick. I've been hearing some of the same stuff Christine has been hearing. Something's going on, but I'm the last person they'd let in on any of it."

"Why is that?"

"Because I told them I wouldn't keep quiet this time."

"You told Archbishop Armstrong that?"

"I told Monsignor O'Sullivan," Tony said without emotion. "I'm sure O'Sullivan told the archbishop."

Nick could tell there was more to that story, but he was glad to be getting even an edited version. Still, he decided to push his luck. "Do you think the leather portfolio was stuffed with secret documents?"

This time Tony turned to meet his eyes. "Just between you and me, not Christine, not the cops," he said and waited for Nick to nod in agreement. "It wouldn't surprise me. It wouldn't be the first time. The Vatican has diplomatic immunity. Anything under its roof can't be used or subpoenaed. Just like anyone under its roof can't be extradited."

"Monsignor O'Sullivan wasn't coming back?"

"No. I confronted him that morning, before he left. He ended up admitting to me that he wouldn't be returning."

"Wow!" Nick couldn't believe it. Christine was right. "So is it possible one of the monsignor's victims offed him before he could leave?"

"Or someone wanted to put an end to the whole matter once and for all."

"Wait a minute. What do you mean by that?"

But it was too late. Tony was looking out the window again.

"They're here," he said, and Nick thought he actually sounded relieved.

Omaha, Nebraska

Maggie checked her cell phone for messages, contemplating whether or not to turn the phone off for their interview with Father Gallagher. Still no word from Gwen. She was starting to get worried. It wasn't like Gwen. Something was going on with her. It wasn't just exhaustion. It was something more and it bugged Maggie that she couldn't figure it out. No, what bugged her more was that Gwen wasn't telling her. She wondered if she should try calling her again, but Pakula was already pointing out Our Lady of Sorrow High School up ahead.

The school's campus lived up to Maggie's expectations of a small parochial high school. It was a series of old redbrick buildings in pristine condition despite being used since probably the early 1900s. The campus was located in central Omaha, but set off from busy intersections by huge maples that lined the property on one side and Memorial Park on the other.

It surprised Maggie that Detective Carmichael didn't accompany them. She had seemed to be chomping at the bit to question Father Tony Gallagher again. After all, it was her digging that created the new suspicions. When Maggie asked Pakula, he threw her a look as if it was a sore subject. Then he muttered something about needing to keep an open mind. She could tell that it didn't help matters that he had to come out here to question the priest on his turf instead of on Pakula's. Again the detective had muttered something about "that bastard attorney" Father Gallagher had watching out for him.

But as Detective Pakula pulled in to the school parking lot, Maggie's phone started ringing. From the caller ID she knew it was Racine. She had already missed two calls from the detective. This would be a third.

"Do you mind if I get this?" she asked Pakula. "I'll make it quick."

"No, go ahead."

"Maggie O'Dell."

"O'Dell, it's about time," Racine said but she sounded relieved instead of pissed, which was what Maggie had expected.

"I talked to Bonzado last night." She thought she'd beat Racine to the punch. "He filled me in on the tattoo."

"We have another victim," Racine said without preface.

Maggie leaned back against the car seat. That wasn't at all what she'd expected to hear. "It's awfully soon."

"It gets worse. The victim was your friend's assistant."

"Excuse me?"

"Dr. Patterson. The victim worked for her."

"When did this happen? Is Gwen okay? I haven't heard from her. Why didn't she call me?"

A look from Pakula told Maggie she needed to calm down. He had just shut off the ignition and now waved at the school's front door.

"I'll wait outside for you," he said.

"I* was hoping she had talked to you," Racine was saying as Pakula left the car. "Because she didn't have much to say to me."

"She was probably upset, Racine."

"I'm sure she was, but there was something strange going on. I don't think your friend's being totally up front with me. I'm not sure what it is she's not telling us, but she's definitely holding something back."