by Frank Smith
As Vicki neared the end of the aisle the Archbishop stepped forward and Vicki's father handed his daughter off to me. Vicki took my arm and we turned and faced the Archbishop. He began to speak.
"Victoria and Francis, family and guests of the bride and groom, Monsignor Carey, parishioners of Saint Elizabeth's, the teachers and good sisters of St. Elizabeth's, students of the bride, and my fellow priests. Today we..."
"Stop! Get down! Get down!"
Angela Rossi was running up the center aisle. The two uniformed policemen were running up the side aisles. Half way up the aisle Angela reached into her leather shoulder bag and dropped to one knee, holding the Glock automatic with two hands.
"Vicki! Get Down!" she shouted again.
I felt like I was hit by a truck as Joe Amanti slammed into me and Vicki and the three of us hit the marble floor. Two shots rang out in quick succession. I covered Vicki with my body and turned my head in the direction of the sound from the collapsing folding chairs set up for the visiting priests. Monsignor Smith was sprawled on the floor in the midst of them covered in broken glass from the sanctuary light hanging from the ceiling; the light shattered by the bullet intended for me or Vicki. The gun he had been holding slowly spun amidst the shards of glass on the sanctuary floor. Now I knew who Angela had been aiming at. The two uniforms were on him immediately. Smith was conscious and there was a growing bloodstain on the front of his white alb like a liquid rose in a lapel.
Angela Rossi ran onto the altar and stood in front of Smith. She put the Glock 40 back in her bag.
"D. Gregory Smith, also known as Dominic G. Smith" she said nodding her head at me, "you are under arrest for the murder of Father Albert Soroka and the attempted murders of Victoria Meyers and Michael Eddy. You have the right to remain silent?."
The people trying to get out of the church, realizing that the danger was over, stopped to watch the drama unfolding on the altar
.
The ambulance arrived ten minutes later. The archbishop was great. "Just another routine day in the life of your local clergy and the Philadelphia Police Department, folks," he said from the pulpit. "Now, before we were so rudely interrupted, I think we had a wedding going on. There will be a slight change in venue. We are now sitting in what I believe is called a 'crime scene'. The police want us to leave so we are moving over to the parish hall to finish what we started. There are tables and chairs set up for the reception so you can all sit down for the ceremony. We will exit down the center aisle and out the main entrance and cross over?"
"Pop pop?"
Olivia was standing in front of the pulpit.
Reilly looked down.
"Yes Olivia."
"Can I throw my flowers? I have a lot left."
Olivia and Joey led the procession. Olivia tossed flowers and skipped. This time Joey skipped too. Everyone thought it was the best and certainly most exciting wedding the parish ever had.
CHAPTER 60-THE RECEPTION
At the reception following the ceremony I spotted Angela surrounded by a group of boys and girls from the parish school. I went over to rescue her.
"Can we see your gun?"
"How many people have you shot?"
"J'ever kill anybody?
"Ever stick anybody's head in a toilet to make them talk?"
"Do you do Karate?"
"Sorry guys," I said. "I have to borrow Officer Rossi now. Police business."
I took Angela's arm and steered her toward the table with the wedding cake constructed by Vicki's students out of dozens of cup cakes. The top layer was crowned with a plastic bride and groom.
"Thanks Frank. I was breaking under the third degree. I think those kids are watching too much TV."
"You're the local hero. I have a lot of questions of my own."
"Fire away," she said, handing me a cup of pink lemonade and ladling one for herself out of the big punch bowl.
"How in the world did you discover that Smith was the killer?"
"A lie and your list of altar boys at Good Shepherd," she said taking a sip.
"What lie?"
"Last night I finally managed to get Michael Eddy's E-ZPass record for October. On the day of Soroka's death he entered the Pennsylvania Turnpike at King of Prussia at 10:42 AM and exited an hour later at Allentown. I checked my notes and Monsignor Smith told us that the gray SUV he spotted left the parking lot at 10:30. He was sure of the time because he said the clock had just chimed the half hour. Now if that SUV was Michael Eddy's there is no way he made the forty miles to King of Prussia in 12 minutes. So Smith lied or the gray SUV was not Eddy's."
"Or Smith was mistaken about the time," I said. "Smith said the clock chimed the half hour. Maybe it was 9:30."
"That wouldn't jive with his luncheon date," she said. "Monsignor Smith said he left the rectory soon after he saw the SUV to pick up a friend in Newtown Square at 11:30. This morning, when I was standing outside the church, Father Mahon, Smith's friend at St. Benedict's in Newton Square, returned my call and confirmed that Smith had indeed picked him up about 11:30 on the day of the murder. It would take him about 45 minutes to get from St. Gabe's to St. Benedict's. That squares with the 10:30 time on the clock; 9:30 would be too early. That's when I suspected Smith was lying about the SUV. Also, I remembered that Smith didn't give us the story about the SUV until after you discovered the broken candle. But I still wasn't sure. The gray SUV could have been owned by a parishioner dropping off something for the clothing drive."
"How does the altar boy list fit in?"
"Just as your bride pulled up to the church a black Lexus pulled into the driveway, stopped, and the driver asked Officer Ortiz a question. We saw a black Lexus in the driveway of Smith's rectory. I took the plate number and used the computer on the dashboard of the squad car to check the tag. It was registered to Dominic G. Smith."
"D. Gregory Smith - Dominic G. Smith," I said "and there was a Dominic G. Smith on my altar boy list"
"Right. So now I added the possibility that Smith was called 'Nicky' in grade school to the possibility he was lying about the SUV."
"And if he was 'Nicky'," I said, "then he could have been the one abused by Cinelli as a boy."
"Abused by Cinelli or Soroka. I think it was Soroka. Toner just said he thought a younger boy was abused. He didn't know who was the abuser. And if it was Soroka then Smith had a motive to kill him. It was too much to ignore so I briefed the other officers and we went into the church. It turns out, just in time. I could see Smith on the altar struggling with something under his robe. You two were lucky. I could see the gun caught in that rope around his waist. That gave me just enough time to warn you before I dropped him. Incidentally, he'll survive to stand trial. It's a shoulder wound. They'll be an Internal Affairs investigation of the shooting. There always is but the two veteran officers that were with me can testify to the fact that Smith's gun was pointing at Vicki and you when I fired."
"So can a church full of people," I said. "I'll tell you something, you'll never have to worry about not being considered a 'real' cop again."
She laughed. "Yeah, no more 'virtual cop' jokes. I think you're supposed to dance with your bride now. I'll talk to you later."
I saw Vicki standing near the student disc jockey and waving to me. I put my empty cup on the table as Louis Armstrong began to sing "What a Wonderful World".
CHAPTER 61-THE NEW NORMAL
It was well into January before all the pieces fell into place. Michael Eddy was in rehab and doing well. It looked like the loss of his left eye would be the only permanent effect of the shooting. The only charge he faced was the one for theft of my emails. Michael felt betrayed by Smith, whom he thought was his friend. He would be the chief witness for the prosecution if Smith is ever brought to trial. Smith faced charges of murder, attempted murder, attempted kidnapping, and of making terroristic threats. He's in bad shape- mentally, not physically- and has made a full confession, many of them- some to the Pope no less. A
ll day he paces his padded cell. "Bless me Holy Father for I have sinned."
While I read in bed Vicki was doubled up on the bedroom chair, her chin resting on one knee, as she fanned her just-painted toenails.
"Guess what?" she said squeezing the words between her teeth. "I saw Angela at registration last night. She's taking a computer sci course on the same night as my writing course. We had a little chat."
I put down my book. "Oh?"
"About your friend, Sal. There's a lot we didn't know about them, Frank, and it's partly our fault. We shouldn't have invited them both to see the game that Sunday."
"Why not? They're both our friends."
"You should have made it clear that Sal was a priest when you introduced them."
"I didn't introduce them. Sal introduced himself. Besides, if I remember correctly, you were trying your best to be a matchmaker."
"I thought she knew he was a priest. He should have said something."
"When you meet some one do you say 'How do you do? My name is Vicki Meyers. I'm a teacher?"
"No, but if I was talking to someone for three hours I could certainly work it into the conversation. What luck. Angela meets a great looking Italian guy who is not married, not divorced, not gay-who she says is definitely not gay-and after she falls for him he tells her he's a priest. And, it's worse for them than it was for us. You had a chance for a dispensation and he doesn't. These are almost dry," she said looking at the toes. "You know, I don't understand him and I still don't fully understand exactly what happened over the past few months."
Happy to change the subject I said, "Well jump over here and I'll tell you a bed time story."
"Don't skip any pages, Frank"
"Not a one. It started when Eddy and Smith were altar boys at Good Shepherd."
"Way before I was born," she said snuggling closer.
"Way before. Smith was sexually abused by Father Soroka and probably abused by Cinelli too."
"I thought it was Michael Eddy who was abused by Cinelli."
"That's what we originally thought based upon our assumption that Eddy was the "Mickey" mentioned by Toner and the fact that Toner was abused by Cinelli. Eddy was never abused himself but he knew about the abuse of other boys."
"Were Eddy and Smith friends at Good Shepherd?" she asked.
"No. They probably knew each other but Smith was in the seventh grade when Eddy was in the sixth. After high school Smith went directly to St. Charles's seminary and Eddy went into the Navy for four years. After the navy Eddy entered St. Charles. He would have been five years behind Smith so..."
"So, they still didn't have much contact," she said.
"Right. After their ordinations their careers took different paths. Eddy left the priesthood- was forced out actually- to marry a former student. Smith was sent to Rome for an advanced degree in theology and then was made a monsignor at an early age. He was on a path that could easily have led to being made a bishop."
"What happened?"
"He was derailed by love- the parish secretary where he was pastor- but opted to remain in the priesthood rather than marry. The secretary was devastated. There was a scandal. Goodbye fast track to a bishopric, hello St. Gabriel's."
"Eddy gave up the priesthood for the woman he loved. Smith gave up the woman he loved for the priesthood," Vicki said. "Love stories with two different endings."
"And both of them were mad that the third option was denied them; the one I had when I was ordained while married to Connie."
"Why you and not them, right? No wonder you were on their sh-radar screen."
"Right. Eddy and Smith reconnected when Eddy started his job as the church supply rep. Eddy bragged about his work with the Union of True Believers and his email harassment of errant priests. Smith encouraged him to make actual threats and to add me to the list, the only married priest in the Archdiocese. He also encouraged Eddy to visit Cinelli at Shore Memorial and, in Eddy's words, 'pull the plug on the pervert'. Eddy planned to just give him a good scare but the plan backfired. He said that he told Cinelli he was going to inject him with a lethal solution of potassium chloride. He actually had a harmless solution of sodium chloride in his syringe. Eddy certainly succeeded in scaring Cinelli. He probably scared him to death."
"Geez, Frank, Priscilla would love this story. How did Father Soroka fit in?"
"When the 2005 Grand Jury report fingered Soroka as a sexual abuser of minors he was forced into retirement. Smith volunteered to let him live at St. Gabriel's. Soroka never knew that Smith was one of the altar boys he had abused. Smith took his revenge by treating Soroka like dirt. He had him clean the church each week, wash his car, even scrub the toilets in the bathrooms. Smith's mistake was to let Soroka handle the storeroom and the church supplies."
"Why?"
"Apparently while computerizing the storeroom inventory Soroka decided to transfer the parish records to a computer data base; modernize the record keeping. In the process he discovered Smith's private IRA. Soroka had confronted Smith with his discovery that fateful morning and paid for it with his life. A forensic audit of the financial records in Soroka's laptop revealed that someone was skimming money from the Sunday collections. The police originally thought it was Soroka. The financial records, which Smith had removed from the storeroom after the murder and had hidden in the rectory attic, revealed that it was actually Smith. When I showed up with Angela Rossi he pretended not to know who I was and when we discovered that Soroka was murdered with the candle he tried to throw suspicion onto Michael Eddy with the SUV story."
"So Eddy was not at St. Gabe's the morning of the death."
"He was there. He had met with Soroka early in the morning and delivered the new candle and some collection baskets. Eddy claimed he left before nine o'clock and went to visit a customer in Allentown. When he was there he sent the two o'clock email to Soroka. He had no idea Soroka was dead. It was after Eddy left St. Gabe's that Smith killed Soroka. The coroner estimated death to be around ten o'clock. Smith picked the ten-thirty time for the SUV story to be compatible with that time."
"Why did he try to kill Eddy?"
"As soon as Eddy found out that the police were investigating the Soroka death as a murder and that they wanted to question him, he figured out what had happened. He went to St. Gabe's to confront Smith. Eddy said he wanted to convince Smith to give himself up to the police and clear him and if that failed to "arrest" Smith himself. He had his old service revolver with him. Somehow Smith got the gun, forced Eddy to drive to the airport, shot him, and staged it to look like a suicide. Smith then took the shuttle van from the parking lot to the airport terminal, got the train into center city, and the trolley out to St. Gabe's. That's the point at which Smith should have called it quits. He thought Eddy was dead, the only one who knew he was the killer, and that we believed Eddy was guilty. Instead he sends me a threatening email which I can't possibly believe came from Eddy after he was shot."
"Crazy. But what did Smith have against me?" Vicki asked.
"Smith was over the edge and not acting rationally. In his mind he had solved two of his problems with murder and I was responsible for his present troubles."
"Which he could solve by getting rid of you."
"Or, punish me by hurting you, or Olivia. It was Smith who was at Munchkin House."
"What about the bishop who gave you all that trouble?"
"Bishop Schmidt? Neither Eddy nor Smith said they had any connection to him although I still think Schmidt might have been the one feeding information to the CDF about me."
"Well, it's all over now, Frank. We can relax. By the way, did Georgina Rutherford ever do that experiment you wanted her to do?"
"Not exactly, but she did help resolve the cosmic ray mystery. It suddenly disappeared."
"Before we went to Rome?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell Cardinal Tossi?"
"He never asked."
"I thought you said you made a deal with him."
"He thought so."
"You devil," she said punching my shoulder. "You let him believe you were going to do that experiment with Georgina. I'm glad it disappeared. I think it upset you."
"I was bothered that I had no scientific explanation for it."
"You had a divine explanation."
"I did. Georgina had a different explanation."
I saw no need to scare Vicki with any talk about the devil.
"Let's say we both had a 'supernatural' explanation of a phenomenon that pushed the CDF into letting us get married."
"A marriage made in heaven" she said smiling. "I like that idea. A divine push. Read your book for a minute, Frank. I'll be right back."
The first indicators that I was going to lose some sleep that night were the wet pink toenails peeking out of the bathroom door. She sashayed into the room twirling the cord from her half opened kimono, threatening to shed it with a tug and a shrug. A cigarette (no a toothbrush) dangled from her parted crimson lips. She stopped at the bottom of the bed. Her voice? If a clarinet could whisper it might be close.
"Listen, handsome. It's raining cats and dogs. My car broke down in front of your house. My triple A membership has expired. I was wondering if you could give a lady-a push."
Later I showed Vicki what I had written.
"A clarinet, huh? I like that. You're improving, Frank"
CHAPTER 62-EPILOGUE
Sal and I were sitting in the back booth of a pub in Chestnut Hill with the remains of a pepperoni pizza and two bottles of Sam Adams. He had called me with an idea about the cosmic ray problem. I owed him an explanation.
"An exorcism? You can't be serious."
I wiped tomato sauce from my mouth and shrugged.
"No more unexplained tracks in the cloud chambers, consecrated host or not. It was Georgina's idea. Remember that day when we did the Cavendish experiment and she proposed her 'demonic' hypothesis? An outrageous suggestion like that deserves to be tested out experimentally, and that is exactly what we did. We certainly weren't getting anywhere with a scientific explanation."
"And Archbishop Reilly went for this?" Sal asked. "You'd need a bishop's approval to perform an exorcism."