When they were finally settled at the kitchen table with their coffee mugs, she began filling Koesler in on what was happening backstage in the archdiocese. Little of what she told him was news to Koesler. His contacts were not identical to but were easily as good as hers. As Irene talked, he wondered again at all the confidential information this lady had. She knew where nearly all the Church skeletons were buried. But she would undoubtedly take all that juicy gossip to her grave rather than publish any of it. No wonder she had endeared herself to Cardinal Boyle.
Then she gave Koesler a blow-by-blow account of yesterday morning’s staff meeting. As she launched into the account, he offered a quiet prayer of thanksgiving that he no longer had to attend those meetings.
He was not surprised at the opinions expressed at the meeting. He could have predicted the position taken by each of the speakers.
Sister Joan was committed to the core city-enough to live there, which was a major step beyond those who expressed concern while staying so far removed they could scarcely find the city. She was sure to fear the elitism that would mark the closing of inner-city schools while the financially more secure suburban institutions stayed open.
And Clete Bash was the type who would see nothing wrong with that.
Everybody knew that Monsignor Del Young was holding on for dear life to Old Faithful. He had to be superintendent of something. Odds had it that if Del survived until retirement, he wouldn’t give a damn what happened to the system after that. Or anything else for that matter.
Koesler also could have foretold the fine public relations touch contributed by Quent Jeffrey. He probably could make his approach work. Whereas Clete would fumble it without doubt.
And what else could a money man conscientiously recommend other than cutting the losses and closing the marginal schools that had no choice but to drain the coffers of everything in sight?
The single item that did surprise Koesler was Larry Hoffer’s suggestion to close down the entire parochial school system. In all his private ruminations as well as the bull sessions with his confreres, Koesler had never given serious consideration to closing everything. He would have to think that one over.
Irene described in detail the ruckus that followed Hoffer’s proposal.
The shadow of a smile crossed Koesler’s lips when she described Cardinal Boyle’s futile attempts to mediate for moderation. Koesler could remember watching that process innumerable times. Boyle twisting his bishop’s ring, toying with his pectoral cross, inching forward in his chair, clearing his throat, gaining the floor, achieving peace for the moment, only to see all his efforts gurgle down the drain.
“I’ve seen some unruly meetings,” Irene concluded, “but nothing like this. Some of them-some of the priests even-went … berserk! That’s the only word for it!”
“Yes, but Irene, couldn’t you almost expect something like that?” Koesler countered. “I mean, that is a volatile topic. Larry Hoffer scarcely could have said anything that would ruffle feathers more than suggesting that we abandon our school system.”
“You weren’t there!”
“No, but your description was graphic. I might just as well have been there.
“Irene, I don’t know; there may come a day when the parochial school system will be a there historical oddity. And maybe that time is now-or soon-I just don’t know. I must confess I’ve never given any serious thought to what it would be like having no parish schools. But I think when it happens, or if it happens, that they’re all closed, the finale will be not a whimper but an explosion. So I guess I can’t get overly excited that Hoffer’s proposal was greeted as you describe it.”
“Okay. But the point is, I remember thinking at the time that the emotion that came out in that room was close to violence!”
Koesler smiled briefly in disbelief. “You mean you thought they were actually going to fight? I mean, physically?”
“A couple of times, I thought some of them were close to doing just that!”
“Irene, I don’t think-”
“And then,” she interrupted, “I had this premonition that something violent, something terrible was going to happen. I really did!”
Koesler could tell that she was on the verge of tears. “I see,” he said, “and then …?”
“And then this had to happen. Larry was … was …”
“… murdered.” Koesler could tell she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. “But what about-”
“What,” she interrupted again, “what if the murder was caused, or occasioned, or triggered by something said at the meeting?”
“Irene …” Koesler touched her hand gently. “Irene, come on! You and I know these people. They’re priests and nuns and dedicated laypeople. They’re Church people. They may have their disagreements, and sometimes those disagreements may be deeply felt. But they’re not … I mean, I’ve been at these meetings too, before you, and I’ve seen how deeply they feel, how much they have invested of themselves in their work, how affected they are when their territory or interests are threatened. But they wouldn’t … not one of them would …”
“Then how do you explain it? I thought we were done with this horror when the police caught that David Reading person. After Sister Joan’s sister was murdered and Sister was almost murdered herself … that was so horrible. But it was over. It was done. They caught the killer. Now …”
“Irene, they did catch the man. It is over. Believe it. This is tragic; there’s no doubt about that. But it’s not connected. As much as we’d like it to be otherwise, living in this city has its dangerous aspect. There’s no getting around it. Larry was probably the victim of a random mugging. A mugging that went too far. It’s tragic. But it could have happened to anyone. It just happened to be Larry Hoffer.”
Irene seemed to be drawing some consolation and reassurance from Koesler’s explanation. “Then you don’t think …”
“Not for a moment. And you shouldn’t either. Of course we’re saddened by this thing. That’s natural. But we’ve got to go on.”
“I … I guess you’re right. It’s just that I witnessed … I saw how angry some of the people at that meeting were, And most of the anger was directed at Larry. And then when I heard this morning that he’d been killed …”
“I guess it was only natural. You were sort of primed to link the two, the argument and the hostility, with what happened to Larry. But, think a bit. Who? Which one of those people at the staff meeting could have done it? Can you think of a single person there who might actually be capable of murder?”
Irene gave it brief consideration. “I … suppose not. But then I never focused on any specific individual. It was just so coincidental.”
“That’s it, Irene: coincidence. An eerie coincidence. Natural.”
Mary O’Connor stepped apologetically into the kitchen. “Excuse me, there’s someone on the phone for you, Father.”
“Did you get a name?”
“Yes, a Lieutenant Tully with the police department.”
Koesler did a quick appraisal of Irene Casey. She seemed more at peace man she had been earlier. He wasn’t sure his words had completely calmed her but they had been a help. No doubt about that. He felt he could accept me call. So, thanking Mary and excusing himself to Irene, he picked up the phone near the refrigerator. Irene could not help overhearing Koesler’s side of the conversation.
“Yes, I remember Lieutenant … yes, at me funeral home.
“You want to come here? Well …
“Well, I was going to ring some doorbells. The Lafayette Towers complex … 1300 … just check in with some of the people who live in my parish. There hasn’t been much evangelization carried on in this parish in recent years and … yes, evangelization …