Father Tully had every reason to believe that the consciences of both partners to his brother’s marriage were at ease. Asked if they were married, neither one would have responded, “a little bit” or “partially.” Their consciences were at peace and Father Tully was not about to upset this package.
Zoo returned from the phone transformed. Where a few moments ago, he had been relaxed and mildly inquisitive, he was now all business. “There’s been a murder. That new branch of Adams Bank and Trust-somebody was killed.”
Excitement almost snatched Father Tully’s breath away. “Who was it? Do you know who was killed?”
“The manager.” Zoo was walking so rapidly that his brother found it hard to keep up.
Zoo was parked around the corner on Grand River so they didn’t have to wait for Carl’s parking attendant. As they entered the car, Zoo said, “I’ll drop you off at St. Joe’s.”
Was this a pattern? It was beginning to seem that when it was time for Zoo to drive his brother home, some emergency intervened. Father Tully was definitely ready for a change of routine. “If you don’t mind … I’d really like to go with you.”
Zoo, starting the car, glanced at his brother. “This is not a field trip.”
“I know. And I’m very well coached that you do not suffer non-professionals gladly. I know all that. And I won’t get in anybody’s way. But I’d like to go with you. I just may have something to contribute … and I’m not playing Father Koesler.”
Zoo said nothing as he drove toward St. Joe’s. Suddenly, he veered away from the parish and headed out Jefferson. “Okay. But stay right where I tell you. Why do you want to come on this run, anyhow?”
“That award party I was at the other night: I met the full cast of characters who run this bank. I met the new manager, Al Ulrich. Mr. Adams asked me to give him my impression of Ulrich and Nancy Groggins as to which would make the better manager for the new branch.
“As a matter of fact, before I had a chance to meet either contestant, Adams confided that he favored Nancy. And, after meeting both of them, I agreed with Adams and I told him as much before leaving.
“That’s why I was so surprised when Adams announced that he had selected Ulrich for the job.
“Now Ulrich is dead.
“I just have a very strong feeling that I should be there. I can’t tell you why. The whole idea is new to me. It’s almost like Providence wants it that way.”
“Okay,” Zoo said. “But just stay put and observe.”
Ten
As they approached the crime scene, Father Tully surveyed the territory. It was a mixed bag.
The housing ran from neatly kept bungalows to empty flats with out panes or doors. Once, years ago, this had undoubtedly been a working, middle-class neighborhood. One whose front porches had held gliders. In spring, summer, and fall, neighbors had gathered to talk, to listen, to learn, and to live. Neighbors who had never heard of the phrase “drive-by shooting.”
But that was a time whose return no one could hope to anticipate.
Tully’s car, flasher blinking, pulled up to the new bank building.
“What’s happened to this neighborhood?” Father Tully asked. Yesterday’s tour had featured nothing like this.
“Gangs. Drugs and might make right.”
An extensive area was cordoned off by bright yellow ribbon signifying a crime scene. All unauthorized people were to observe the restriction and stay out.
“Remember: you’re a spectator.”
Father Tully followed Zoo, stepping over the tape.
Several detectives from the lieutenant’s Homicide Squad were on the scene. Two of them, Sergeants Phil Mangiapane and Angie Moore, walked toward the newcomers. They hesitated when they saw a man in clerical clothing accompanying their leader. Angie Moore was the first to note a resemblance-albeit slight-between the two men.
Moore and Mangiapane had intended to bring the lieutenant up to date on what they had learned. The completely unexpected presence of a strange clergyman gave them pause.
The lieutenant perceived this. “Sergeants Mangiapane and Moore, meet Father Zachary Tully.”
The name stopped them in their tracks.
Mangiapane was the first to extend his hand. “Father Tully? You couldn’t be … no you couldn’t-”
“I’ll betcha I could,” said the priest.
Mangiapane’s hand stayed extended even after the priest had shaken it.
Angie Moore, perhaps because she’d had a bit more time to adjust to this incredible event, seemed entirely composed. “Glad to meet you,” she said as she shook Zack’s hand.
With a note of pride in his voice, Zoo said, “Father Tully is my half brother. We have the same father. Until a couple of days ago each of us didn’t know the other existed. My brother’s a priest … a Catholic priest. He belongs to the … uh …”
“Josephite order,” the priest supplied.
“And,” Zoo said, “he’s gonna be here for maybe a couple of weeks.”
By now, Mangiapane was able to close his mouth. “A Catholic priest! Who could …? Is this for real?”
“It’s for real, Manj. Now: what’ve we got?”
Angie Moore was by far the more self-possessed. “It looks like robbery armed and murder.”
“It was the bank manager?”
“Yeah,” Moore said. “This was supposed to be opening day. Sort of letting the neighborhood welcome the bank and the bank making itself at home here.”
“Opening day,” mused Zoo. “Okay, give me what you got.”
“This is a new branch of Adams Bank and Trust,” Mangiapane said.
“That I know.”
“Well,” Mangiapane, undaunted, proceeded, “the general staff have been working with each other for a while. They were specially trained for this neighborhood. The manager,” he consulted his notes, “Allan Ulrich, was named only a couple of days ago. Yesterday he met with his staff for the first time … to give them a rundown of procedures and stuff like that.”
“He-Ulrich, that is,” said Moore, “decided he would be the person to open up in the morning, Monday through Friday. He was supposed to arrive at 8 A.M.-and, according to the cameras, he did.”
“Cameras going all night?”
“Yes,” Moore said.
“Go on.” Zoo looked at Mangiapane.
“The staff put up the decorations” — he motioned toward the bunting on the walls and the helium balloons lightly grazing the ceiling-“late yesterday afternoon. Everything was ready for opening day. Like Angie said, Ulrich was here right on the button at eight.
“A little while after that, the film shows that he went to the door. That’s just out of camera range, so you can’t immediately see who came in. But then you see Ulrich backtracking into the lobby. He’s got both hands raised. Then the perp fires-one shot. Hits Ulrich in the forehead, between the eyes. His knees buckle and he hits the floor.
“Then the perp moves in. It’s either blind luck, or the guy knew where the cameras were aimed. ’Cause he pretty well stayed out of the picture. Just some shots of a shoulder, his back. But then he got into the control room and killed the power: the cameras go off then.”
Moore offered some backgrounding. “They had a signal set up. Ulrich planned on coming in an hour before the other employees. He would be here at eight. The rest were supposed to arrive at nine. And the bank would open for business at nine-thirty.
“When Ulrich had gotten everything set up, he was to raise the blind in his office. That was the signaclass="underline" The employees would know it was safe to enter. When the first of them got here this morning, Ulrich’s car was in the lot, but the blind was still down.
“They phoned the bank. There wasn’t any answer. So they called the police. But the police were already on the way: the monitoring system that protects bank security had caught noises that sounded like someone trying to break into the safe.
“A couple of patrolmen got here and checked things out. The perp was gone. Impossible to know exactly when he left, but it had to be before the employees got here. And the employees were here five or ten minutes before the cops got here.