Chameleon

22

Sergeant Angie Moore was describing the case she had handled earlier in the day. “According to just about everybody I talked to, this guy was the life of the party. I mean, all the time. He was never ‘off.’ Helped around the neighborhood too. A regular Good Neighbor Sam. But before he’d go home, almost every time …”

“He’d booze it up?” Lieutenant Tully interrupted.

“How’d you guess?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been over this territory too many times. When he’s out, he’s Dr. Jekyll. But when he goes home, he’s Mr. Hyde. There has to be some potion he takes to speed up the change. My guess is it’s not drugs or the neighbors would know about it and he’d lose his image real quick. So: booze.”

Moore and Tully were seated in the otherwise empty squad room. Tully was struggling to pay attention.. But what Moore was describing was a platter case, and besides, he was preoccupied with the Catholic affair-which was proving the opposite of a platter.

“Well,” Moore admitted, “you’re right. It was booze.”

“And he had to get more and more ’cause he was building up an immunity,”

Moore laughed. “Say, whose case is this anyway?”

“Sorry Go ahead. I’ll shut up.”

“You seem to have guessed what happened when he got home.”

Tully simply looked interested. He’d promised he wouldn’t interrupt any more.

“Okay,” Moore continued. “He would beat his wife to a pulp.”

“Witnesses?”

“Two teenagers. Their son and daughter. Sometimes they’d try to intervene, but then they’d get it too. He was a big son-of-a-bitch. After a while, they just quit trying. Sometimes she’d try to fight back but she’d only get hit harder.”

“I take it things got reversed this morning. I mean, after all, the guy’s dead.”

“Yeah. But not the way you’d expect.”

Tully showed some interest.

“Last night,” Moore said, “he came home stone sober. Then, after a while, he got tanked and started throwing her around. The boy stepped between them, pleading for his mother. The guy almost killed his son. That did it: She told us she could have taken the abuse, even if it killed her. But not her baby. She decided to get out.”

“Mother love.”

“So this morning the guy gets up, goes out to start the car-to warm it up before he went to work. He turned the ignition on and blew himself into jelly”

Tully was surprised. “The wife wired the car?”

“That’s the funny part. Right now, it looks like he did it to get rid of her.”

“How-?”

“They got two cars. Last night when he got home sober he worked on the car his wife drove. Neighbors saw him. His foreman checked and found that he’d taken some explosives from work. That’s it, Zoo: This morning he was so hung over, he started the wrong can.”

He had to agree there was a different twist here. But it was still a “platter” case.

Sergeant Mangiapane cleared his throat. At some point he had entered the room and had been standing just inside the door. Neither Tully nor Moore had been aware of his presence.

“Yes, indeedy,” Moore took the hint, “I got some work to do.” She gathered up her tote bag and left the squad room.

Once again Tully was alone with one of his detectives. This time there was a genuine interest. Mangiapane was among the officers still investigating Larry Hoffer’s murder as well as that of Helen Donovan.

“Got something?” From the manner of Mangiapane’s entrance, Tully was fairly sure the sergeant did have some fresh development.

“Maybe.” Mangiapane sat down directly opposite Tully.

Tully merely looked at him, waiting.

“You know that nursing home up in Pontiac? On Watkins Lake Road?”

“No, can’t say that I do.” Tully had no reason, by his lights, to be aware of the facility. It had never been involved in any case he had investigated. Until now, at least.

“Well, okay,” Mangiapane said. He wondered from time to time about the comparative narrowness of Tully’s interest. “There is one. It’s been there almost thirty years. The reason I’m bringing this up is that my aunt works there. She’s an RN.”

Tully would not have been surprised should Mangiapane volunteer his aunt’s medical education and achievements. Excessive detail was one of the boy’s failings. Fortunately, ne had more than enough virtues to offset the drawbacks. He had all the makings of a fine detective. One day he would be one of the best. As long as he paid attention.

Tully was about to redirect Mangiapane’s attention to the case at hand when the sergeant returned to it of his own volition.

“I don’t see Aunt Marie very often-Christmas, Easter, family get-togethers, that sort of thing. That’s why I was surprised when she called me.”

“When was that?”

“Yesterday. Well, last night, actually. She said she’d been keeping up on this murder case in the papers and she knew I was working on it. She sort of brags to the patients and the staff when I’m on a big case.” He smiled modestly “She always wonders how come my picture ain’t in the paper when I’m on a major case.”

There he goes again.“Manj,” Tully said, “tell me why I should be interested in what your aunt thinks of our investigation of this, particular case.”

“Sure, Zoo. Sorry.” Mangiapane had been made aware of his tendency to digress. He tried to reform, but it wasn’t easy. “What it was, Zoo, is that Aunt Marie has this patient at the nursing home. The old lady’s not quite with it most of the time. But once in a while, she’s … whaddyacallit?”

“Lucid?”

“Yeah, I think. Anyway, Aunt Marie heard her talkin’ about her nephew and niece, who were religious. I mean the nephew is a priest and the niece is a nun. Catholics usually are proud of a thing like that, Zoo. So it wasn’t unusual that she would brag about it. At least she did it a few times when she was … lucid.”

“I think we’ve gotten through the introduction, Manj. Has this story got a middle or an end?”

“Sure, Zoo. The thing is, her niece’s name is Sister Joan Donovan.”

Tully leaned forward.

“And …” Mangiapane paused for a perfect theatrical delivery. “… her nephew is Father Fred Stapleton. Or was.”

“Stapleton? Donovan. They’re …”

“Cousins, Zoo. Forty-second, maybe, but cousins.”

“Now that is interesting.” Mangiapane had Tully’s complete attention.

“Aunt Marie remembered tfiis when she read about Sister Joan being an intended victim and how I saved her. My aunt had never heard of Stapleton-except from hearing this old lady talk about him. What she called me for was to tell me about the nun and how it was a coincidence that I had saved her life by collaring that jerk who tried to kill her. She just mentioned Stapleton because the old lady always mentioned them together. She had no idea both cousins figured in this investigation.”

“Interesting. Very interesting. Did you follow it up?”

“I went out to the nursing home this morning, Zoo. Aunt Marie was really surprised and happy to see me. She took me to this lady, but the old girl wasn’t having one of her … lucid times. Batty as a bedbug, Zoo. She just sort of mumbles and drools. But-and this is the big thing-they’ve got her last will and testament on file out there. I guess it was made at one of the times she’d run out of drool.

“It turns out, Zoo, that these two people are her only living relatives. She was an old maid. She’s left everything to them. And it’s quite a pile. Her daddy was in on the beginning of General Motors-loads of stock. He built it into a pretty big fortune, and he left the whole shebang to his daughter. And she was no slouch: She invested her inheritance until it got to be several million dollars. She’s using some of it-although she probably doesn’t know what’s going on-for her care now. Still, there’s a bundle left for Donovan and Stapleton.”

Tully’s eyes were animated. “Now that’s very intriguing.”

Buoyed by Tully’s growing interest, Mangiapane continued. “I asked Aunt Marie if the old lady knew that her nephew had quit the priesthood. She said she didn’t think so ‘cause even when she was rational she never mentioned that. She always calls him ‘Father Fred.’ Besides, even Aunt Marie didn’t know Stapleton was out.”

“She didn’t know?” Tully was surprised again, “Your aunt didn’t know that Stapleton is a psychologist? Hell, he’s practically a celebrity. And she didn’t know?”

“No, Zoo. She don’t pay much attention to current affairs.” Mangiapane was surprised that Tully was surprised that Aunt Marie didn’t read the papers or watch TV news much. Of all people, Tully, with his lack of interest in events that had nothing to do with his work, should appreciate Aunt Marie’s information gaps.

“Okay,” Tully said. “Go on.”

“Well, I asked Aunt Marie what the old lady would do if she knew her nephew wasn’t a priest anymore. She didn’t have to think about it a minute. Right off she said the old lady would be mad as hell and would cut Stapleton out of her will.”

“Just because he stopped being a priest?” Tully obviously found that hard to believe.

“That’s the way it is with Catholics, Zoo … at least the oldtime ones. They’re proud as peacocks when a relative gets to be a priest or a nun. But let them quit and their names might as well be mud. Anyway, Aunt Marie says that’s not likely to happen: The old gal hardly ever comes to anymore. And on the off chance she would be wide awake anytime that Aunt Marie was with her, she said she’d never tell her. The old gal’d go bananas. It could kill her.”

“Either the nun or Stapleton ever come to see her?”

“Sister Joan used to come and visit. But she stopped a long time ago. I guess it just wasn’t worth the effort. As far as Aunt Marie knows, Stapleton never came.”

“Do the nun and Stapleton know about the inheritance?”

“Aunt Marie isn’t sure. But back when the old lady was a bit more with it and used to talk about her nephew and niece, she’d say how proud she was of them and that she told them she’d leave everything to them. So if she wasn’t dreaming, I guess they do know.”

Tully thought about that. “Wait a minute: Stapleton’s got a teenage daughter. He’s got to have quit the priesthood long ago. How come his aunt didn’t know about that?”

“If he never visited her when she was cookin on all eight, it’s possible. There’s not much general publicity on a thing like that. Usually there’s nothin’ in the regular papers or on TV. And the Catholic paper usually just says the priest has taken a ‘leave of absence.’ So it could work out, They were never all that close anyway. The old lady wouldn’t fuss about her nephew not comin’ to visit. She’d just be quiedy proud that he Was what she thought he was. In time she’d die, he’d have half her money, and he’d be sayin’ Masses for her way beyond her time in purgatory.”

Tully knew better than to ask what in hell purgatory was about. “Wait a minute. He was a priest. Could he have kept all that money?”

“Oh, sure, Zoo. He was a secular priest. He didn’t have no vow of poverty. He coulda kept the bundle.”

For a moment, Tully thought of the only priest he knew to any degree. There was a fleeting image in his mind of Fatfier Koesler living in a luxury high rise, fantastically wealthy. It was a ridiculous notion. But briefly amusing.

Tully realized to what supposition all this was leading. He wondered if Mangiapane did. “So, whaddya think, Manj?”

“What I was thinkin’, Zoo, was that maybe this case ain’t anything like what it looks like. Suppose Stapleton knows about the inheritance. He probably does if the old lady really did tell both of them about it. Then he knows that when she dies-which can’t be far off-he and his cousin split a fortune … if mey’re both alive.

“But what if the nun dies in the meantime? Then Stapleton gets the whole enchilada. Of course, he could make sure she was dead by killing her.”

“And the Hoffer murder?” Tully was gratified that his detective was reaching the same conclusion he had.

“Well, I was thinking, Zoo: Suppose Stapleton wants his cousin dead. With the contacts he’s kept up with priests and nuns, it ain’t hard for him to find out her routine, if he didn’t already know it. So he either already knows or he finds out that she usually get home real late at night. He waits for her outside St. Leo’s. Somebody in a nun’s habit who looks like her gets out of a cab and heads for the convent. It has to be her, doesn’t it?

“And so he kills the wrong cousin. The cousin who would never have made it into the old lady’s will because, far from being a nun, Helen’s a prostitute.

“Now he finds out he’s killed the wrong woman. Then I stop sombody from pulling a copycat murder. He develops plan B-or maybe it was part of his plan all along. He kills another head of another diocesan department. Right away we figure it’s some sort of plot to knock off department heads for God knows what reason.

“Meanwhile he can go back anytime he wants and get the right cousin. Maybe after that he kills the old lady. Or if he can wait just a little while, she’ll do him a favor. And dien he’s got it-the whole bundle.”

Tully was tempted to call out a “bravo,” but he didn’t. “Good, Manj. Very, very good. I love it. It gets us out of all this mumbo jumbo about Vatican Councils and priests who can’t marry and priests who are married so they can’t be priests and people who are mad at the Church for a zillion reasons.

“Now we got simple greed. That we can deal with. Get on it, Manj. Start digging into Stapleton. Get into his financial records-debts and liabilities. His daughter’s going to some ritzy music school. Look into that. I’ll get the rest of the squad into other facets of the man’s finances. This is it, Manj: Let’s wrap it up before he gets back to the nun.

“And, by the way, it probably would help if he knows we’re onto him. It may keep him away from the nun. So squeeze him, Manj; squeeze him.”

“You got it, Zoo.”

Both were elated. The conclusion of a very complicated investigation was nearing.

It was time for a celebration. But that would come later. Right after they caught the bad guy and delivered him for trial, conviction, and punishment.