He was careful to relate the new motives for Whitman supplied by Galloway, and for Cobb as supplied by Brown.
“Very good, Father. . excellent.” Koznicki congratulated the priest on his reportage and added, “Our detectives have been busy today and are formulating some very definite opinions. I shall make sure they learn of your contribution first thing in the morning. We are hopeful of wrapping up this case tomorrow.”
“That soon!”
“It has been two full days since the murder, Father. And, as you well know, the longer a case continues, the less likely we are to reach a solution.”
“You’re right, Inspector, of course. I was speaking as the amateur I am. Just because I haven’t the slightest idea who did it is no reason to assume that the experts are not close to solving the case.”
He could hear Koznicki’s soft chuckle.
“Will you be attending the funeral tomorrow, Inspector?”
“Yes, indeed. It is at-” Koznicki tried to locate the obituary in the afternoon paper.
“At 9:00 a.m.,” Koesler supplied, “at Holy Redeemer.”
“Of course. Will I be seeing you there, Father?”
“Yes. I plan on concelebrating. I got to know Hank fairly well during the discussion meetings. And I must confess I’ve gotten to know him even better during the investigation of his murder.”
“Yes. I think you might say, Father, that he can use all the prayers he can get.”
“I quite agree. Well, I’ll. . see you in church,” Koesler concluded lightly.
Before retiring, the priest poured himself a glass of sherry. He sipped it slowly as he let the events of the past couple of days drift through his mind.
It was fortunate for the wheels of justice, he concluded, that society did not have to wait for him to solve a crime. But he was glad that the police seemed close to a solution. For his part, Koesler was forced to agree with Marj Galloway. There was no smoking gun. . as least none that he could detect. Just lots of opportunities and lots of motives.
The smoking gun everyone seemed to be looking for apparently was the knowledge of Hunsinger’s colorblindness. So far, the only ones who had admitted such knowledge were Niall Murray and Hunsinger’s mother. Neither seemed to have a motive for the crime and both had daylong alibis.
Somebody else had to be holding the smoking gun, but Koesler could think of no way to figure out who.
Well, then, he concluded as he downed the last of the sherry, here’s to the police.
4
Hackett’s funeral home was, especially for this early in the day, unusually packed.
Seated next to each other in front of the wall near the still open casket were Niall Murray and Kit Hoffer. Each wore a black suit, with white shirt and black tie. They were two of the six pallbearers.
They were waiting while Father Peter Forbes completed the wake prayers. When he had finished, the ceremony would move to the church. Murray and Hoffer conversed sporadically in whispers.
“I don’t fancy tryin’ to lug that casket up all them steps of the church,” said Murray.
“Me neither,” Hoffer replied. “That coffin plus the Hun must weigh a ton.”
“You’re a poet as well.”
Both successfully smothered snickers.
“Beats practice,” Murray commented after a period of silence.
“Beats practice?”
“Just sitting here.”
“We’ll pay for it later this morning. You can bet on that altogether.”
“You know, I was kind of surprised the coach let us off to come to the funeral. After all, this is Wednesday. Should be a full day of work. Especially with New York coming up. I mean, like, we are really going to be behind.”
“Put your trust in Coach Bradford, will ya now, man? Even as we speak, he is probably sittin’ in this very funeral parlor plannin’ on how he is goin’ to sweat our asses off this afternoon. Besides, we are here for one reason and one reason alone. It would look very bad indeed in the papers and on TV if we hadn’t shown up for the Hun’s funeral.”
“Like, so much for respect for the dead.”
Once again, they successfully stifled a laugh.
Father Forbes finished the prayers and left immediately for the church to prepare for the funeral Mass, known since Vatican II as the Mass of Resurrection.
Mrs. Hunsinger’s brothers and sisters and Mrs. Quinn gathered about her and assisted her into the waiting limousine for the extremely short trip to the church.
Father Forbes found himself pressed for time. He had to hurry back to the church, vest for Mass, and be ready to greet the cortege as it reached the church doors. Ordinarily, it was not his custom to visit the funeral home just before the funeral. He’d done so this morning as a special courtesy to Mrs. Hunsinger.
He was surprised when he entered the huge sacristy to find Father Koesler waiting and completely vested for Mass. It was just a couple of minutes before nine and the funeral bell was tolling. “Bob! What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to concelebrate the Mass with you.” It was Koesler’s turn to be surprised. He had taken it for granted that Forbes would assume he would come to concelebrate. Before the Second Vatican Council, for priests to concelebrate a Mass was most rare. It would be difficult to think of any occasion besides a priest’s ordination Mass when there was a concelebration. But after Vatican II, concelebration became extremely widespread. Nearly every time more than one priest was present for a Mass, it became a concelebrated Mass.
“But you can’t,” said Forbes.
“I can’t?” Koesler’s mind went through a quick computer check looking for a reason why he could not concelebrate. He found none.
“While granting permission for Church burial for Hunsinger, the Chancery specifically forbade that there be a concelebration.”
“What! They can’t do that!”
Forbes smiled. “They can do just about anything they want.”
“But they gave permission for Church burial. And that’s that. They can’t tack on any other conditions.”
“It was a quid pro quo. I had to plead with them for permission to bury. They were most reluctant. I hunted all over the place to find someone, anyone, who would testify that Hunsinger had gone to Mass in recent memory. Or that he had even tipped his hat while passing a church. Nobody. I’m afraid that Hunsinger just gave up on the Church. So now, of course, the Church, in the form of the Chancery, has the opportunity to give up on Hunsinger. So, initially, they denied him Church burial.
“I guess when they finally gave in, they felt they had to get something in return. So they imposed the condition that it not be concelebrated. I don’t even know whether they thought there was a chance that another priest would show up. I know it didn’t cross my mind until I saw you vested and ready to go.”
“Okay, okay. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Koesler began to divest.
“But there’s nothing in the Chancery’s regulation says you can’t assist at the Mass.” Forbes quickly began to put on the vestments that had been set out for him on the vestment case. “Would you take care of the first two readings?”
“Sure.” Koesler left his cassock on and slipped a white linen surplice over his shoulders.
Forbes indicated the selected readings in the lectionary.
The procession started down the aisle toward the front doors of the church where the cortege was awaiting the clergy’s greeting. Forbes and Koesler were preceded by four small altar boys, two carrying lighted candles, one carrying a processional crucifix, and the fourth carrying an aspersorium-popularly referred to by the priests as a bucket-in which rested the aspersorium and the holy water.
Forbes sprinkled the casket with the holy water, then, assisted by the attending morticians, spread an ornate white cloth over the casket, meanwhile praying, from the Ritual, that as Henry Hunsinger had been buried with Christ in baptism, he might now be clothed in the white robe of the Resurrection.
Th
e procession returned to the altar area. The mourners, participants, or just curious were handed liturgical leaflets enabling them if they were so inclined to follow the service and join in the prayers and hymns. Very few would do so. Thus, having invited the community to sing the entrance song, the organist sang in solo voice, “God loved the world so much, he gave his only Son, that all who believe in him might not perish, but might have eternal life.”
The Mass began with Father Forbes leading the brief introductory rites.
Koesler sat on a straight-back chair in front of which was a kneeler. Briefly, he consulted the lectionary to refamiliarize himself with the Biblical texts he would read.
After Father Forbes read the collect prayer, it was time for the first two Scripture readings. Koesler mounted the pulpit.
“The first reading is taken from the Old Testament, Second Book of Maccabees, from the seventh chapter:
“It also happened that seven brothers with their mother were arrested and tortured with whips and scourges by the king, to force them to eat pork in violation of God’s law. Most admirable and worthy of everlasting remembrance was the mother, who saw her seven sons perish in a single day, yet bore it courageously because of her hope in the Lord. Filled with a noble spirit that stirred her womanly heart with manly courage, she exhorted each of them in the language of their forefathers with these words: ‘I do not know how you came into existence in my womb; it was not I who gave you the breath of life, nor was it I who set in order the elements of which each of you is composed. Therefore, since it is the creator of the universe who shapes each man’s beginning, as he brings about the origin of everything, he, in his mercy, will give you back both breath and life, because you now disregard yourselves for the sake of his law.’
“This is the word of the Lord.”
A few scattered voices responded, “Thanks be to God.”
The organist essayed “The Lord Is My Light and My Salvation” as a psalm response, but, again, it became virtually a solo.
Koesler began the second reading. “This is a reading from St. Paul’s letter to the Romans, the sixth chapter:
“Are you not aware that we who were baptised into Christ Jesus were baptised into his death? Through baptism into his death we were buried with him, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we, too, might live a new life. If we have been united with him through likeness to his death, so shall we be through a like resurrection. This we know; our old self was crucified with him so that the sinful body might be destroyed and we might be slaves to sin no longer. A man who is dead has been freed from sin. If we have died with Christ we believe that we are also to live with him. We know that Christ, once raised from the dead, will never die again; death has no more power over him.
“This is the word of the Lord. “
Again, a few voices: “Thanks be to God.”
Koesler left the pulpit.
Forbes entered it to read the Gospel. “A reading from the Holy Gospel According to Mark:
“His mother and his brothers arrived, and as they stood outside they sent word to him to come out. The crowd seated around him told him, ‘Your mother and your brothers and sisters are outside asking for you.’ He said in reply, ‘Who are my mother and brothers?’ and gazing around at those seated in the circle he continued, ‘These are my mother and brothers. Whoever does the will of God is brother and sister and mother to me.’
“This is the Gospel of the Lord.”
A few scattered voices: “Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.”
It was time for the homily.
Father Forbes began in time-honored fashion. He offered the condolences of everyone he could think of to everyone he could think of.
Koesler, one of those in whose name sympathy had been offered, scanned the group being singled out for condolences.
“Mrs. Grace Hunsinger,” began Forbes. She sat ramrod straight, looking neither right nor left; her face was covered by a black veil. You can’t hardly find that kind of mourning any more, thought Koesler.
“Mrs. Hunsinger’s many brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts of the deceased,” Father Forbes intoned. They looked like hardy stock, judged Koesler. They’re probably still wondering why such a sturdy, healthy young relative lies dead.
Forbes continued his enumeration. “Mrs. Quinn, long-time companion and friend of Mrs. Hunsinger. .”At mention of her name, Mrs. Quinn’s head bobbed upright. She had nearly fallen asleep. Koesler hoped, rather absently, that she would not have one of her habitual dreams and wake up shouting “bingo” in the middle of the Mass.
Koesler would not fall asleep. He scarcely ever did during the homilies of others. But neither did he pay attention. He scarcely ever did that either. He would mentally compose his own homily. He almost always did, amid many digressions and distractions.
Yes, homilies had changed since Vatican II, even for a funeral or, more currently, the Mass of Resurrection. Before the Council, eulogies containing personal praise of the deceased were discouraged. One was expected to preach on such eschatological themes as death, judgment, heaven, hell, purgatory; the possibility of the Church Militant (those yet alive) helping the Church Suffering (those in purgatory) by prayer. Now, whenever the priest knew the deceased, a eulogy, mixed with a bit of eschatology, was the order of the day.
There was a distinction too, at least in Koesler’s mind, between pre- and post-Vatican II preaching. The preaching common during his early priestly years he would have called sermons. These had had little if anything to do with the Scripture readings of the Mass. If it was decided that now was the time to inveigh against the evils of steady dating or French kissing, then that was what the sermon was about.
After the Council, more and more priests were led to link their preaching to the subject of the Scripture readings of the Mass. It was a style Koesler liked. When there were two readings (or, more commonly, on Sundays or special occasions such as funerals or weddings, three), the initial trick was to find some connection between the readings and develop that as the homiletic theme.
Thus, as Father Forbes began his homily, Father Koesler mentally began his.
The three readings of this Mass put Koesler in mind of a valiant mother, faced with the sudden death of her sons, who comforts herself, first with St. Paul’s sublime insistence on the fact of Christ’s Resurrection and ours through Him. And her second consolation comes from the evenhandedness of God’s mercy. Anyone who wishes to do the will of the Father is mother, brother, or sister to Christ.
Of course, putting Henry Hunsinger in the company of those who wanted to do God’s will was stretching things a bit. But that was the very point of the Christian understanding of death and judgment: that God does not judge by human standards. Koesler would never forget the simple words he had seen stenciled on the wall of Detroit’s Carmelite convent: “When you die you will be judged by Love.”
This was the theme he would have developed had he been delivering the homily this morning. It was the theme of the homily he now preached to himself. He did not even wonder what Father Forbes had preached.
After the homily, the Mass of Resurrection proceeded without incident. Occasionally, Koesler looked about the crowded church. He had seldom seen so many extremely large men in church at the same time. The Cougars were in attendance to a man. He was reminded of the comment made by President John Kennedy when awarding a medal to one of the astronauts at a White House ceremony. He said, in effect, that one could tell the difference between the astronauts and the politicians assembled for the ceremony; the astronauts were the tan and healthy ones.
Similarly, one could distinguish the football players from the ordinary humans; the players were the ones with no necks, just huge shoulders sloping upward into large heads.
Father Forbes reached that part of the Mass called the consecration. According to Catholic faith, when the priest repeated the words of Jesus at the Last Supper, the bread and wine again were changed into the realit
y of Christ come again as food for the soul. As Forbes pronounced the words of consecration, so did Koesler in a whisper. Thus, Koesler managed to foil the capricious decision of the Chancery forbidding concelebration at this Mass. It was such an absurd, childish dictum that he felt rather good about violating it.
From his vantage in the sanctuary, somewhat elevated above the floor of the body of the church, Father Koesler could easily see the people in the pews. As Mass proceeded toward communion, he tried to pick out the suspects.
You couldn’t miss Kit Hoffer and Bobby Cobb. Not only were they large; they were both pallbearers and thus in the front row. Hoffer was kneeling; Cobb was seated. Another distinguishing point: non-Catholics seldom knelt in church. Kneeling, for most of them, was foreign to their worship experience. So, while Catholics knelt, non-Catholics sat.
Jack Brown was in the second row, just behind the pallbearers. He seemed ill at ease. Koesler wondered why. Did he find the Catholic ceremony awkward, or was something else troubling him?
The Galloways were seated in about the fourth or fifth row, Koesler could not quite tell which. Jay Galloway seemed. . what? Self-satisfied?
Marj Galloway was not satisfied. That was obvious and so was her reason for being upset. Koesler was certain that if she could have carried it off without attracting too much notice, she would not be here. And if she could have helped it, she would not be sitting next to a man she no longer loved. Had Koesler been present at the epilogue to last night’s meeting, he would have understood just how much in fact she despised her husband.
Koesler could not locate Dave Whitman, though undoubtedly he was somewhere in the congregation. Koesler wondered if it would be possible for Whitman and Galloway to continue to work together after the words they had exchanged last night.
The congregation stood for the Lord’s Prayer. Non-Catholics generally have no objections to standing. Then most everyone knelt again as communion time arrived.
Koesler assisted Forbes in distributing communion. Thus he was nearby when Grace Hunsinger received communion from Father Forbes. And thus Koesler was startled when, having received communion, she began to sob and almost collapsed. Instinctively, he moved as if to assist her. But her relatives were quick to come to her aid and support her.
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