Sam Reese — “Reese has got the title Minister of Evangelism, which, he explained to me, means he’s in charge of spreading the word and getting more people into the church, preferably as members. He’s not much to look at — mid-fifties, a bigger gut than mine, and less hair than me, believe it or not. But he’s a dynamo. He’s played a big part in the church’s growth, and he isn’t exactly shy about saying so. Claims it was his idea to put billboards advertising the Silver Spire on the freeways years back, and he told me he provided the push to get Bay’s ministry on TV. He also grabs the credit for setting up the shelters for women and the homeless, and for the newspaper and magazine publicity the church has gotten. As to the notes, he took Meade’s position that they were the work of some crackpot. ‘In a congregation as big as ours, you’re bound to attract a few oddballs. It’s the law of averages,’ he said.”
Carola Reese — “Sam’s wife. She’s at least ten years younger than her husband, maybe fifteen, which would make her fortyish or so. Mrs. Reese is the church’s star soloist, met Reese some years back when she joined the choir. She’s apparently been married before, but I don’t know whether he has. She’s borderline flashy, both in her clothes and the way she acts. I kind of like her, though — of all Bay’s inner circle, she’s the friendliest, or at least was toward me. As far as the notes, she felt they were worth worrying about. ‘It sounds like someone with a sick mind’ is what she said to me.”
Marley Wilkenson — “Wilkenson’s called Minister of Music, and he oversees the whole program — choirs, orchestra, guest artists, everything. The church’s big deal is the ‘Spire Choir,’ which has made several best-selling religious records and tapes, like the Mormons out in Salt Lake with that famous choir of theirs. Marley’s a wiry little guy, and has a head of white hair that would make Tip O’Neill jealous. He’s a widower, and he’s got a reputation for being tough, but nobody’s about to knock his musical abilities or his success. He strikes me as a cold fish, though. He pooh-poohed the notes and said that worrying about them was just a waste of time.”
Elise Bay — “Bay’s wife, and what a beauty. I think she was maybe Miss North Carolina some years back. Once you get past the looks, which takes a while, you find out she’s also got brains. When I met her, I figured she was around the church a lot just because of who she’s married to. Well, maybe that’s how it started out, but I’m telling you, don’t sell her short; Elise Bay is damn smart, she’s got clout in the running of the place, and she knows how to use it. She acted decent enough to me, but I don’t think she liked the idea of having a P.I. around. I asked her what she thought about the notes, and she was evasive, said they were an ‘anomaly,’ whatever that means. I got the feeling she wasn’t losing sleep about them, though.”
I leaned back and digested Fred’s comments, then asked if he wanted something to drink. “I just want this nightmare to be over,” he groaned, sagging in his chair and pressing his palms to his eyes.
“Understandable. But with Nathaniel Parker on the legal end and Mr. Wolfe on the puzzle-solving end, you haven’t got any worries,” I told him. That’s me, ever the optimist. “Now, let’s talk about last night’s meeting, where everybody got so worked up.”
Fred shifted in his chair, looking sheepish. “Well, I guess maybe I didn’t handle it all that well, Archie. But, dammit, Bay wanted a report, and he got one. Apparently, he has these Circle of Faith get-togethers almost every Monday night; they’re kind of informal, not like the church’s regular meetings of officers. But because these are his closest advisers, he puts a lot of stock in what they have to say.”
“And that includes his wife and Mrs. Reese?”
“From what I gather, they both are always invited. Yesterday afternoon, I was at the church poking around and talking to people on the staff, and Morgan told me that Bay wanted me to come to the Circle of Faith meeting at seven-thirty and fill them all in on my investigation. I told Morgan I needed more time, but he said to come anyway, and give a progress report.”
“Then what?”
“What could I do? I went to the meeting.”
“Details, please.”
“Well, we were in the plush conference room on the ground floor — the same level as the parking lot. It’s in the office-and-classroom wing, which itself is the size of a small office building. Anyway, Reverend Bay seemed uncomfortable having me there, but right after he gave the prayer to open the meeting, he turned to me and said something about how everybody around the table knew who I was and why I was present, which seemed unnecessary; after all, I’d had at least a few minutes with each of them over the last several days, and they all knew why I’d been hired. Then he asked me to summarize what I’d learned. I started slow, telling how I’d watched the services for two Sundays, how I’d used the vandalism cover when I talked to the office staff and others. Then I said I was sure the notes to Bay were an inside job.”
“And all hell broke loose?”
Fred shrugged. “Yeah, you could say that. Meade jumped up and yelled he’d heard all the nonsense he was going to. He called me a ‘sleazy snoop’ and a few other things. That’s when I made a big mistake.”
“How so?”
“You know my temper, Archie. I have to work to sit on it, and the last few years, I think I did pretty good — mainly thanks to Fanny, who tells me to do things like count to ten and think good thoughts. This time, though, it got the best of me. Meade had been making smart-alecky cracks ever since I first walked into that place, and I finally popped. I told him off, using some words that should never get said in a church. ‘Jackass’ was probably the mildest one.”
“Sounds like it fit him. What next?”
“Everybody looked shocked. Then Bay jumped in. First off, he led us all in a prayer, to cool things off, you know? I was dying to punch out Meade’s lights, what with that damn smirk on his face, but I had to sit there looking down while Bay prayed, quoting something from the Psalms about how we should refrain from anger and wrath. Then he told all of us to find a room to meditate alone in for fifteen minutes, and we would reconvene.”
“And you meditated?”
“Yeah. The building was pretty much empty that time of night, and I got pointed toward a small office nobody was using down the hall from the conference room. Most of the others went to their own offices, or found unoccupied ones.”
“And that’s when Meade was zapped?”
Fred nodded.
“Did you hear a shot?” I asked him.
“No, but I had closed the door of the office I was in. And Meade’s was closed, too. Archie, that whole place is built like a battleship — they didn’t stint on construction. Those doors are heavy and thick; they don’t have windows in them, and they look like they’re made of oak. You might not hear a shot through one door, and you sure as hell wouldn’t through two.”
“But it was your gun that did it?”
He leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “That’s what the cops say. Go ahead and call me stupid, Archie; God knows, I’ve called myself that enough since last night. Ever since the first day I went to the church, I took to removing my suitcoat and hanging it in an alcove with a couple dozen coat hooks that’s along that ground-floor hall. All the other men there — including Bay himself — work in their shirtsleeves, and I like to blend in as much as I can. But you know I always wear a shoulder holster when I’m working — like you do. I would have felt stupid walking around the halls of a church with a weapon sticking out of a damned harness. So I always hung up the holster and gun, and then draped my suitcoat over it so that all you saw walking by was the coat. I mean, it is a church, after all! Who’d ever think anybody would want to filch a gun there, let alone use it?”