You don’t fall asleep, then be wakened by an explosion someplace in the house, then check the clock to see how long you’ve been sleeping.
It was almost ludicrous. Koesler tried to visualize himself in a similar situation. The last thing on his mind would be what time it was or how long he’d been asleep. He would do exactly what Martha had done: As quickly as possible he would go to investigate what had happened.
That must be it … that must be the loophole that Father Walsh had found. Koesler couldn’t think of a single thing to do about it. But there it was: The time between when Martha actually went to bed and when she was awakened was unknown. And now, years later, that gap would have to remain unknown. What little evidence there had been was gone now. If there was a guilty second person, fingerprints would be blurred by everyone who had touched things. How many people had handled that note, the gun, the body? It had seemed such a clear-cut case of suicide that no one had given an instant’s thought to any other possibility.
This single consideration opened the whole matter once again.
What might have happened while Martha slept for God knows how long?
Could someone have rung the doorbell? Would that have wakened Martha? Depends on how deeply she was sleeping. Perhaps someone had knocked at the door. That probably wouldn’t have been loud enough to wake her.
Just suppose someone came to the house-rang the doorbell or knocked-why might he or she call at that hour?
Suppose it was one of the kids. Lucy lived only a few blocks away. Tony could easily enough have come in from Kalamazoo. Vinnie would not be the first seminarian to escape from the minimum security of St. John’s. Realistically, though, Vinnie would be the least likely of the three to call on Frank. Vinnie would have had one tough time finding transportation. But … possible.
Could any of the three have known about the Vatican rejection?
Koesler himself had gotten the verdict in the mail that very day. He had told no one before-or directly after, for that matter-sharing the news with Frank and Martha. How could anyone else have known?
One of the high school girls, in addition to other parochial chores, was assigned to pick up the daily mail from the rectory’s main office and deliver it to the various priests’ offices. While Lucy did not fill that role, she could’ve had the mail girl tell her if an envelope from Rome came to Father Koesler.
If the letter came and the verdict was positive, Father Koesler would have delivered the good news immediately. The fact that he received such a letter and put off sharing its contents was a pretty good indication that the news was bad.
Then what?
Say, for sake of argument, that Lucy had somehow learned about the verdict. What if she enlisted the aid of Tony, he being the more mobile of her brothers?
What if they staked out the Morris home? Easy enough to do. Koesler had come early and left relatively early.
They note that Martha goes upstairs, undoubtedly headed to bed. They knock on the door. Frank lets them in without hesitation.
Then what?
They try to talk Frank into leaving Martha so their aunt can finally receive the sacraments again. And just in time for Vinnie’s first Mass.
Obviously, Frank will not leave Martha.
Failing that, they appeal to the love that Frank holds for Martha. They urge Frank to commit suicide. It’s the only way Martha can be truly happy. Sure she would miss him almost beyond words; but underneath it all, she would be at peace-and so would he.
Finally, he agrees. He writes the note. Confident that he will go through with it, they leave.
Frank gets his gun and kills himself.
This procedure would take a lot of time. How much time did they have? That’s just it: Nobody knew. Nobody knows how long Martha slept before the gunshot.
The conclusion: Either scenario could resolve some questions-while raising others.
The burning question: So what? The incident is long settled in just about everyone’s mind; nothing can be proved one way or the other.
And yet … there is the possibility of the question rising to the surface again. What happens to kids as young as Tony and Lucy if they enter into a conspiracy to, in effect, browbeat someone into taking his own life? Does it scar them forever? And what could a scar such as this cause them to do in the future?
All this because it seemed so foreign to Frank’s nature to freely decide on suicide. And because there was no way of telling how long Martha had been asleep that fateful night.
Walsh’s doubts found fertile ground in Koesler’s imagination.
It was something that would not only haunt Father Koesler but, willy-nilly, would color his relationship with Tony and Lucy for some time. Nothing would be said. But he would look at them in a different light and with some residual doubt.
He swung his car into the familiar circular drive. It was the recreational break between lunch and the afternoon’s first class. Cassocked students stood in groups or walked with companions. Some enjoyed the premature springlike weather. Many more smoked cigarettes, cigars, or pipes, any form of combustible tobacco.
Koesler was greeted with a mixture of familiarity and reverence. He was not old enough to be more than one of the boys, yet he had achieved what they all desired.
He headed directly to the rector’s suite. Father Finn was in his office with a student. Koesler took a seat in the vestibule.
He had time to reflect on the speculation he’d entertained en route to the seminary. It brought to mind a homily he had recently delivered. He had said that he could make as good a case for atheism as he could for a belief in God. But if he were an atheist, he would have to confront all those questions: Where did all this come from? Who made the laws that nature follows? What was the purpose of all these galaxies? Where is it all going? And on and on.
So, in a much smaller dimension, there were questions on either side of Frank Morris’s death. The simple declarative approach: Frank, having left a note for Martha and in order to clear a path for her return to the Catholic sacraments she so missed, had shot himself dead.
Questions: Was it out of character for Frank to take such a fatal action of his own accord? Having endured the sacrifice of a lengthy brother-and-sister relationship, would he not have felt that he had taken every step possible toward the desired goal, and that being the case weren’t he and Martha now entitled to resume what for them was a faithful, loving marriage?
Or had Frank thought it all out long before? Had he decided that in the event of a negative judgment from the Church he would take the only other possible step? Had he made the decision out of misguided love to commit suicide so that his beloved Martha could finally receive the sacraments she so desired?
Or: Frank’s choice was assisted by outside urging. Question: Isn’t this a bit Byzantine? Granted the apparently precipitate decision and immediate terminal act was out of character; still, couldn’t Frank have felt his back was to the wall with nowhere to go but from this life?
An argument could be made for either case. And the argument arose out of the unknown time Martha had been asleep before the deed was done.
If Father Walsh’s intuition was correct, one had to consider the possibility that two young people had conspired to cause an innocent person to take his own life. No mean charge. Their own lives undoubtedly would have been marked by their action. At the very least, they would bear watching.
At this point, a student exited Father Finn’s office. The young man appeared chastened. Father Finn could effect this with little effort. Koesler knew from first-person experience.
The student, obviously embarrassed beyond words, beyond even a glance, walked past Koesler without eye contact.
Koesler wondered idly about the offense. It could have been almost anything. What the young man probably did not comprehend was that if Finn had given him hell, at least the rector was trying to save the lad’s vocation. If he were considered dispensable, Finn wouldn’t have expended so much emotional firepower on him. Still, as Koesler knew full well, the drill was painful.