There was plenty of space in the meeting room in the rectory basement for the small, faithful congregation that regularly attended daily Mass. This morning, however, was not a propitious time for reflective prayer. On everyone’s mind-those swarming the church floor, the Mass attendants, as well as the priest-was “the miracle.”
At the conclusion of Mass, most of the congregation returned to the church, where they found an augmented crowd. Curiosity over what had happened last night was escalating.
For Father Koesler, who best functioned in a cocoon of routine, it was lunchtime.
Mrs. Bennie alternated between reassuring her husband and preparing a light lunch. With a long, deep sigh, Koesler seated himself at the dining table. He eyed the stack of phone messages. After lunch, he told himself.
Both of Detroit’s major dailies, the News and the Free Press, were on the table. As one result of an almost universally despised joint operating agreement, the Freep remained the morning paper, while the News could be a morning pickup at newsstands. The front page and local news section of both papers heavily covered the miracle.
Those parts of the paper Koesler had already scanned. He wondered desperately what was happening in For Better or for Worse, Overboard, and Mister Boffo. Just as he was about to find out, Mary O’Connor entered the room. She handed Koesler a single phone message. “This one I thought you’d want to take care of right away.”
The call was from Inspector Walter Koznicki, head of the Homicide Division of the Detroit Police Department.
Koesler and Koznicki had met many years before during an investigation of the serial killings of some Detroit priests and nuns. Building on that chance association, the two men had become fast friends.
This message was succinct if deferential. Inspector Koznicki requested Father Koesler’s presence at headquarters, immediately, if possible. A uniformed officer would be waiting to drive Father.
Even though only a few long blocks separated St. Joseph’s and Police Headquarters, in view of the crowd, as well as the urgency of the meeting, driving was the way to go.
Koesler apologized to Bennie, and particularly to Mrs. Bennie, for not being able to take lunch. He did not give any detail; this morning’s events spoke for themselves.
He shed his cassock and donned a black jacket and a topcoat. He and his driver were on their way to one of the most well-known addresses in the city: 1300 Beaubien.
Koesler was ushered into a Homicide squad room that had been vacated for this meeting. In addition to Koznicki and Koesler, present were Lieutenant Alonzo Tully and a woman Koesler had never met.
Tully-nicknamed Zoo, a play on Alonzo-was a veteran Homicide officer, dedicated and thoroughly professional. Two women-first his wife, along with his children, then a significant other-had lost the battle with his work. As a homicide lieutenant, Tully headed a squad of detectives.
His and Koesler’s paths had crossed several years before, again in a homicide investigation. Although Tully had understood from the start that Koesler’s only function in these occasional forays into crime-solving was to be as a resource for things Catholic, Tully had initially not been happy about that. He wanted no fingers in the pie save those of professionals. That the priest was a dear friend not only of Koznicki’s but also of the inspector’s family did not mitigate Tully’s opinion.
But, over the years, Tully had not only mellowed, he had become quite receptive to Koesler’s contributions. Contributions made only when the puzzle had a distinctly Catholic tenor. In this present case the puzzle involved an allegedly dead body returned to life while being waked in Father Koesler’s church.
This case almost defined the relationship.
After the two officers greeted the priest, Inspector Koznicki addressed Koesler in his usual courtly manner. “Father, I believe you have not met Dr. Marian Price. Dr. Price is a teaching physician at Receiving Hospital. We have told her about you and why we have invited you to this meeting.”
The doctor and Koesler shook hands.
“Do you have any idea why we invited you here?” Koznicki asked.
“If I had to guess,” Koesler said, “it would be the Dr. Green thing. But I suppose that’s because I’m up to my ears in this affair. I really can’t say why I’m here in the Homicide Division.”
“It’s not that tough, Father,” Tully said. “It comes down to we don’t believe in miracles. So, we’d like to find out what happened.”
“That’s not too far from the policy of my Church,” said Koesler.
“It isn’t?” Tully was surprised.
“Well,” Koesler said, “we do believe in miracles. We also believe that God doesn’t multiply them. So the Church’s reaction to something that is claimed to be a miracle is that it’s not a miracle until every other possible explanation is thoroughly examined and disproved. And right now, both the Catholic Church and the police department are on the same road-trying to find an explanation, other than a genuine miracle, for what happened last night.”
Tully found Koesler’s reaction and the attitude of his Church unexpected. The lieutenant had supposed that the Church would readily greet the news that, as a result of a Catholic ceremony, a dead man had been brought back to life. Such an occurrence would do no harm to Church coffers, either.
If truth be known, Tully had agreed only reluctantly to bring Koesler in on this investigation. Admittedly, the matter was made to order for the priest’s field of expertise. And, of course, the event had taken place in Koesler’s church, in Koesler’s presence. But Tully had feared the priest would have a closed mind-in favor of the miraculous.
Tully smiled. Now they could get down to cases.
“Understand, Lieutenant,” Koesler cautioned, “I don’t dismiss the possibility that it might, indeed, be a miracle. I’ve been to a lot of funerals. This is the only one where the corpse walked away, as it were. That’s where we differ-that possibility. But right now, we’re in exactly the same boat-looking for some other logical explanation.”
“Fair enough,” Tully said.
“In fact,” Koznicki said, “we have already begun the investigation. In attempting to discover what happened here, we have interviewed some of the major participants. We are trying to find out what happened that should not have happened, and what did not happen that should have happened.”
After Koznicki shuffled through various reports on his desk, he selected one and replaced the others in order. “We begin with Dr. Green’s personal physician, a Dr. Garnet Fox. Dr. Fox said that Dr. Green’s health had been deteriorating. In the past six to eight months he had not been taking on any new patients. Also, increasingly, he had been referring many of his longtime patients to other physicians.
“He suffered from arteriosclerotic heart disease and a very painful back. The back pain was acute and chronic. His appetite had been off. Dr. Fox suggests the almost constant pain would cause a loss of appetite. But no cause was found for the back pain. Every known test was applied, but no physical cause showed up.”
“Which would mean,” Dr. Price broke in, “that either our technology at this point is inadequate-which is entirely possible-or the back pain was psychosomatic.”
“Thank you,” Koznicki said. “Dr. Fox further stated that there is a stockpile of medications for chronic pain, even specifically for back pain. However, with continued use, over time, the human body is able to tolerate larger and larger doses-and thus requires increased amounts in order to control the pain.
“Recently, Dr. Fox has heard Dr. Green state-and this is a sentiment that Dr. Green has expressed more and more often-‘I’d rather die than go on like this.’