Harlot's Moon Read Free Page B

he said to Steve Gray, "This is great. We're supposed to start our fund-raising drive next week, Monsignor."
    "We'll be all right, Bob, just stay calm," Steve said. I remembered him saying that Wilson and the priest would know how to handle the press. Given his air of frenzy, I wouldn't let Wilson anywhere near the press.
    I went over to the door, pushed it open and marched inside. They followed me. We were like teenagers at a carnival, about to gaze upon one of the world's most frightening sights: a murdered man.
    "Boy, what did he do?" Bob Wilson said as soon as he was inside. "Crap his pants or what?"
    Father Ryan was more solemn. He went over and stood next to the bed and stared down at Father Daly's body.
    He reached out a long arm and touched the dead priest's shoulder. Then he closed his eyes and began praying silently.
    We all stood in silence until he was finished. I checked out the room with a couple of glances. Everything was as it had been — bathroom light on, door ajar, ashtrays clean, rusty metal wastebasket empty and tipped over on its side, golden earring on end-table, black oxfords and socks near the head of the bed, man's white shirt tossed over the back of a chair.
    When he opened his eyes, Father Ryan said, "I got to know his sister pretty well, Monsignor. She's over in Omaha. I can call her if you'd like."
    "I'd appreciate that, Father."
    Wilson, all angry energy, was stalking around the room. "What was he doing here, anyway? Cheap motel like this. God Almighty."
    Yeah, he'd make a beautiful press spokesman all right. He started to pick up the ashtray.
    "Don't touch anything," I said.
    Wilson looked first at Steve and then at me. "Exactly who are you, anyway, Mr. Payne?"
    "Robert was an FBI agent for a little over ten years," Steve said. "Now he's a consultant on murder cases to police departments."
    Wilson said, "Oh. Sorry I snapped at you then. I guess you know what you're talking about after all."
    He walked back to the bathroom. "All right if I pee? I've had three cups of coffee and no breakfast."
    "I wish you'd go down to the office, if you wouldn't mind," I said. "The police may find something useful in the toilet bowl."
    "What a job," he said, "pawing through toilet bowls."
    He left and Steve said, "He's actually a very decent family man."
    Before I could say anything, Father Ryan said, "He works very hard for our parish, Mr. Payne. We wouldn't have been able to make any of the church improvements if it hadn't been for Bob Wilson."
    Steve was nodding agreement, when the two uniforms came through the door.
    They introduced themselves and started the process of securing the crime scene.
    "I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to wait outside," the young uniform said. "I understand that they have coffee and rolls down in the office."
    I was just turning to go when I glanced over at the end-table where the golden earring had been.
    I walked across to the table and looked around at the floor, in case the earring had been knocked off.
    But the earring was gone, even though I'd seen it just a few minutes ago.
    I looked at Steve, Father Ryan, and Bob Wilson.
    Only Bob Wilson had been anywhere near it. Only Bob Wilson could have taken it.
    But why was an earring found at the crime scene so important to a good family man like him?

Chapter Three
    Â 
    "H e's a friend of yours — Monsignor Gray?" Detective Judy Holloway asked me. Then: "Excuse me."
    She sneezed then jammed the nipple of a small white plastic inhaler into her left nostril. "You think I'm bad off," she said, talking as if she had a cold. "You should hear my three kids."
    Her sinuses quelled at least for the moment, she repeated, "So is Monsignor Gray a friend of yours?"
    "Uh-huh. Old friend."
    "You should sit him down and explain the law to him, then," she said. She was a slender woman about five-eight. She wore a red blazer, starched white button-down shirt, black skirt, black hose and black one-inch pumps. She wasn't exactly pretty but