by Frank Smith
"I'm trying JP. I'm trying, but I could use a little more help."
I went to lab. A half hour later I called Joe on my cell phone. "Joe, I can use your help. About a half hour or so at four?"
"You doing the rain dance again?"
"I'm afraid so."
"I'll bring a Geiger counter."
By four o'clock all of the students were gone from the lab. Joe came in with a small Geiger counter. He put it on a lab bench along the wall, plugged it in, and turned it on.
"I'm setting the timer for a five-minute background count," he said.
He threw the start toggle and walked over to where I was sitting.
"So, what are we up to here, Frank?"
"Go over and take a look at the cloud chambers."
Joe went over and said, "Looks pretty normal, Frank."
"Now watch."
I walked over and stood next to Joe. There was an immediate increase in the number of tracks.
"Yikes," he said. "It is you."
"Sit down, Joe. I want to show you something."
I took the small case from my pocket and laid it on the table.
"Do you know what this is?"
"Looks like a woman's compact; a small one. My wife has something similar only a bit larger. It has a small powder puff and a mirror inside."
"Does it have a cross engraved on the top like this one?"
"Compact for a stylish nun?" he quipped. "A very small nun."
I played along. "Yeah, the Little Sisters of the Poor."
I opened the case and pushed it closer to Joe so he could see the host inside. "It's used for carrying Holy Communion to patients in a hospital, or nursing home, or to shut-ins. I had one in my pocket last Monday and Monday a week ago."
"Days you saw increased cosmic ray activity," Joe said.
"Right, but not last Wednesday when the activity was normal."
"So, you suspect that the host or the case or both is responsible."
"It's got to be. Let's get to work," I said and opened a spreadsheet on my laptop to enter data.
A half hour later we had exhausted every possibility. Nothing we tested produced a count significantly different from a background count; not the host, not the case, not anything on me or anything in the vicinity of the aquariums.
"Can you think of anything else, Frank?"
I could not and must have looked upset.
"Are you OK, buddy?"
"I'm OK. I just don't like this. Your witch doctor joke doesn't seem so funny anymore."
"Look, Frank. There has to be a rational explanation for this. Maybe it's the Geiger counter."
"We can check that easy enough."
I went into the storeroom next to the lab and took a radioactive disk out of the small lead safe and brought it back to the lab.
"Flip the switch," I said while I held the disk under the Geiger tube. There was an immediate response from the counter.
'There's our answer," I said. "It's not the equipment."
"Why don't we take another shot at it with a scintillation counter?" Joe said.
"No, that's enough. We're beating a dead horse. I don't get it. We can see the tracks from the increased activity in the cloud chambers when I bring the host near. We can photograph them. We're not imagining the thing. So why aren't the particles causing the tracks also triggering the Geiger counter?"
"Like I said, Frank, there has to be a rational explanation. We just haven't hit on it yet. Let's sleep on it."
"Yeah, we'll come up with something. Thanks for your help, Joe. You go. I'll close up shop and pick up Olivia."
CHAPTER 33-IT'S MURDER NOW
Tom Lacey called me that night. "Frank, here's what I've found so far. Soroka and Cinelli were stationed at the same parish together in the late sixties- Good Shepherd in North Philly. Soroka came to the parish in '66; Cinelli in '67. In February '69 both were transferred; Soroka to a parish in Buck's County after spending three months at a retreat house. Cinelli was made chaplain of a retirement home for priests in Downingtown."
"They didn't last long at Good Shepherd," I said.
"No. The usual assignment to a parish is for five years and routine reassignments typically occur in the summer, not in the middle of winter. They were transferred for a reason. There was a credible accusation of sexual abuse brought against Cinelli by a John Toner who was an altar boy at the time. Toner was questioned by the Grand Jury. I got his phone number from the DA's office. He was reluctant to say much about it. He did say that there was a least one other boy involved. Toner was in the eighth grade at the time and graduated in June of '68. He thinks the other boy was in the sixth or seventh. No full name, just a nickname, 'Mickey' or something like that."
"What about the pastor at the time?"
"No help there. Long deceased and most of the parish records were destroyed when a water main burst in 2001 and flooded the church basement."
"Okay, Tom, thanks. I'll pass this on to Detective Rossi. She may want to talk to you. She tells me you're a legend in the police department for putting away some of the mob."
"I played a small part in that, yes. Some of the guys I put away are getting out soon."
"Worried?"
"Not really. They were gangsters but not crazies. In fact I became friends with one of them, a guy by the name of Fatty Mullica. I visit him occasionally at Graterford. Darn good chess player. He's had plenty of time to practice."
"They all had nicknames, didn't they?"
"Oh yeah. Benny the Rat, Joey Chicken Wings, Cheesecake Anthony. They were some bunch. I think the local media is mad at me for removing their source of colorful mob stories. I have a few myself. Remind me to tell you about the softball game between the mob and the cops sometime."
"Can't wait. Thanks again."
I did pass the information to Angela. She wasted no time in adding to it. I got a call from her the following afternoon.
"Frank, the blood on the candle matched Soroka's and they got a positive match on the hair also. The wax in the wound was 55% beeswax; same as the candle. No bees wax in the sample from the pipe. All paraffin. We now have a murder investigation. Nice going. Two homicide detectives were assigned to it. I met with them yesterday and gave them everything that I've found concerning the emails and the possible connection with Cinelli's death. I'm to work with them on the information technology aspects of the case. I interpret that broadly so I went up to Good Shepherd this morning to see if I could find some information. Most of the parish records from the sixties were destroyed by water in the church basement but not the records for the altar boys. They were supervised by the nuns and the records of their assignments were kept in the school. Father Gonzalez, the pastor, showed me where they were and I rooted around in the filing cabinets but not for long. I found the files in about five minutes. Those nuns were incredibly organized."
"Find anything interesting?" I asked.
"Yes. John Toner's name appears on the Mass assignment lists in '66, '67, and '68. I assume that he was in the sixth, seventh, and eighth grades those years. I searched the names in those years for ones that would fit the 'Mickey' nick name. There was a Michael Jerome Eddy in the records for '68, '69, and '70. Assuming that in those three years he was in the sixth, seventh, and eighth grades it puts Eddy two years behind Toner and makes him a possible fit for 'Mickey'. By the way, do you remember what your pen pal called himself the other day?"
"Dico mihi 'M'. Call me 'M'," I said.
"Right. So now I need to find a Michael Jerome Eddy. If he's still in the area it shouldn't be too hard. It's not a common name. You can help, Frank. Most of the boys graduating from Good Shepherd at that time would have gone to high school at Northwest Catholic in Roxborough. The school was closed ten years ago but there may still be an alumni association with records. Could you check it out?"
"Sure."
"There is something else. The forensic lab scrubbed Soroka's hard drive and came up with good stuff. They disc
overed some interesting accounting methods in St. Gabriel's financial records. Looks like Father Soroka was embezzling money from the Sunday collections. Also, the threatening email he received the day of his death at about two o'clock came from a computer in a senior center in Allentown. If the killer was in that gray SUV Monsignor Smith saw leaving St. Gabe's about 10:30 he would have had plenty of time to get to Allentown by two."
"But why send a threatening email? If the sender was the killer he would have known that Soroka was dead."
"I don't know. Possibly so that you, and others, would ask that very question, Frank. A red herring. Make it look like he had no idea Soroka was dead."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Now here's another gem," she said. "They found an email from last year announcing a reunion of all priests who were ordained from St. Charles' Seminary in the 1950s. It was sent to a group and one of the addresses on the list was '[email protected]'."
"Anthony Cinelli Ocean City," I said. "But he didn't have a computer."
"Anna Cinelli Ocean City," Angela said. "The sister. I called her. She used to have a computer but hardly ever used it. It broke down and she never replaced it. Her brother occasionally used the computers at the Ocean City senior center. Apparently he took over her email account as his own. When she told me he never owned a computer I never thought to ask if he had an email account."
"Can you find his emails?"
"Already have. I asked her if she'd check and she said I might as well check them myself and gave me the password. The New Mail file contained mostly spam and a couple of acknowledgements of book purchases from Amazon and Borders. The reunion announcement was in the Old Mail file along with a bunch of the 'priest-should-be-truly-priests' ones. They stopped after his death."
"Holy smokes! So, he may have been threatened like Soroka."
"But not quite the same as Soroka," she said. "Remember, Soroka's email arrived a few hours after he died."
"Whatever that means," I said.
"You, Cinelli, and Soroka were on your pen pal's list," she said.
"And two of us are dead," I said. "I'm not happy about that."
"I don't blame you. I wonder who else might be on the list. How difficult would it be to contact every priest in the diocese and ask if they have ever received a similar email?"
"I have no idea but I'll find out."
"Good. I'm still bothered by the behavior of that priest or pseudo priest who visited Cinelli before he died. The hospital gave me the names of two priests from Somers Point and Ocean City parishes who usually visit the sick at the hospital. I contacted both. One had visited him when he first went into the hospital but neither said they visited him the day he died."
"It could have been a friend of his."
"I asked his sister about that possibility. She said a number of his priest friends attended his funeral and concelebrated the Mass but she could think of none that fit the description the nurse had given me. I wish the hospital had done an autopsy on him."
"They had no reason to."
"No, and I'd need more than an email and my uneasiness about a mysterious man in black to have him dug up."
"Anything on his cell phone?"
"Nothing there."
"Well, keep me informed, Angela."
"Will do."
When I called Tom and asked if he could check alumni records for a Michael Eddy he said the name rang a bell and promised to look into it and also see about contacting the diocesan priests about the email question.
CHAPTER 34-BLESSING THE ANIMALS
Georgina Rutherford and I dated briefly in college and have remained friends ever since. Her first year at Kenyon she was a physics major and then switched to psychology. Our paths crossed again years later when she was ordained an Episcopal priest one year after me. Now she was at Holy Trinity in Bryn Mawr. I needed to talk to her. She was tied up most of the week. Saturday was "Bless the Animals" day. The blessings would be on the lawn in front of the church at ten. She suggested I come out and bring Olivia and her pets. Did she bless rodents? "Anything. Last year I blessed a tarantula."
Saturday morning, after a detour to pick up Vicki and Joey, I headed for Bryn Mawr with Vicki and me in front and Joey and Olivia strapped into their car seats in back. The Deluxe Hamster Habitat rested on the seat between them with the center seat belt looped around it. Daisy sat in the back of the Outback staring out the rear window.
"Do your mice like water?" Joey asked.
"They're not mice," Olivia said "they're hamsters. Why?"
"Cause they're gonna get soaked. 'Jever get a blessin'? The priest runs around church with a big rattle and shakes water on you."
"They'll be in the Habitat. They won't get wet."
"Then the blessin' won't count. You gotta take 'em outa the cage."
"Daddy, I don't want Jack and Maria to get blessed. They'll run away. 'Member when we gave them a shower in the bath tub and Maria tried to run down the drain?"
"You won't have to take them out sweetheart. They don't have to get wet," I said.
In the rear view mirror I caught Olivia sticking her tongue out at Joey. Vicki turned toward me with an incredulous look on her face.
"You didn't really try to give hamsters a shower did you?"
"Why not? They were smelly and needed it. It was safe. They couldn't get out of the tub. Hand-held shower. Baby shampoo. Very gentle. You just have to be sure the stopper is in the drain, otherwise they might wind up doing the backstroke in a sewer plant."
"The poor things must have been terrified. You're lucky they didn't bite you."
I didn't say anything.
Vicki laughed. "They did bite you. Serves you right." She leaned forward in her seat and pointed. "There's a parking space next to that minivan. Geez, look at them all. I thought there'd be mostly dogs and cats. Can a horse really be considered a pet?"
"Mom, look at the chickens," Joey said. "Can I get one?"
"They're not good in an apartment, Joey."
Vicki turned toward me and added sotto voce, "I like to see you give a shower to a chicken."
Olivia and Joey got at the end of the line with the hamsters and Daisy while Vicki and I found a bench near where Georgina was giving the blessings. She waved to us as we sat down. Children were introducing their pets and saying a few words about them before they were blessed. When it was Olivia's turn she said that Maria was always throwing up. Somebody asked how she knew which one was a boy and which a girl. Olivia said she just knew. After six months with no offspring I suspected that maybe Jack was really a Jacqueline or Maria a Mario. Joey told the crowd that Daisy was a police dog. I don't know where he got that idea.
After the last gerbil and goldfish was beatified Georgina came over to the bench and I introduced her to Vicki. I showed her the digital photos of the cloud chamber tracks and explained their origin.
"How sure are you of this?" Georgina asked.
"I've replicated the results a number of times."
"On the phone you said you wanted me to help. I would be interested in seeing the experiment. Is the equipment still set up?"
"For the next four weeks. The students do the lab on Mondays and Wednesdays from two to four."
Georgina checked a pocket diary. "I could make it this Monday."
"Great," I said. "I was wondering if you might also consider the ecumenical experiment I mentioned which could..."
"Whoa. For now I'd like to be an observer not an independent variable. Okay?"
Vicki interrupted with "What's the big mystery?"
"A simple extension of the cloud chamber experiment," I said to Vicki.
"Monday afternoon then. I'll give your name to the guard at the faculty lot."
We pulled Olivia and Joey away from a group of children petting two small goats and headed back to the city.
"My hamsters didn't get wet at all," Olivia said "and Maria hasn't thrown up once."
"I liked the baby dragon," said Joey.
"McDonald's?" I asked.
"No fries though-apples," Vicki said.
CHAPTER 35-GEORGINA IN THE LAB
Georgina arrived Monday afternoon about fifteen minutes before my lab ended. She wore a dark blue business suit, white blouse, and small gold cross on a thin chain around her neck. I introduced her as a visiting professor to the students. That wasn't a lie. She has a Ph.D in Philosophy and is an adjunct professor at Eastern College where she teaches occasional courses in ethics and the philosophy of science. During the lab she walked around the room with me. I had the case with the consecrated host for Clara in my jacket pocket. Every time we went near the cloud chambers there was a burst of activity. I gave the case to Georgina and she got the same result.
Back in my office I fixed us both a cup of decaf. "Were you surprised?" I asked.
"Yes, it's very strange. I felt like a magician who could perform a trick but didn't know how I did it. Are you sure the case isn't radioactive?"
"Positive."
"Are you considering divine intervention?"
"Reluctantly-as one of many hypotheses. Right now I'm trying to accumulate facts. So my question now is, do you want to participate?"
Georgina took a sip of her coffee and put the cup on the edge of my desk. "In support of your reluctant hypothesis? Let me tell you my thoughts. Suppose we repeat the experiments with a host that I have consecrated. I believe that a consecrated host is truly the body of Christ, the same as you, despite the fact that your church considers my ordination invalid. Let's further assume that the experiment 'works', that is we get the same result that you got with the hosts you consecrated. What do we then have?"