Mary O’Connor brought the coffee, fresh and steaming. She also brought some sweet rolls. She was appreciated.
“So” —Koznicki anticipated the next point—“you reached into the pocket of what you thought was your coat to get a handkerchief, and instead pulled out the parking receipt.”
“Exactly. At first I thought it was my receipt. After all, it was my coat—or at least I thought it was. Then, as I glanced at the receipt, it was all wrong. It gave the wrong date and the wrong time. Instead of recording the entry as February 9,10:40 P.M., and the exit as February 9, 11:30 P.M., it read, ‘Entry February 8,11:32 P.M.’ and ‘Exit, February 9, 12:12 A.M.’
“This clearly indicated the wearer of this coat was at Receiving Hospital when Herbert Demers was murdered. It was the first solid evidence that Brad Kleimer was the one who’d killed Mr. Demers. Until then, it was just a theory I had that Father Carleson was not the killer, and that Kleimer was.
“Brad Kleimer’s plan was the soul of simplicity,” Koesler continued, warming to his story. “There are lots of people wandering around almost any hospital with no permission or identification. Chief among them are people wearing hospital greens or white hospital coats or black clerical clothes. Doctors, nurses, hospital personnel, and clergy generally don’t need permission—or any further identification.
“Kleimer is a bit shorter than Father Carleson. But he wears lifts. And that makes them about the same height. The two men are similarly built. Father’s hair is totally white, and although Kleimer’s hair is still turning, his sideburns are white. So, wearing a hat, the hair color appears the same.
“Then it occurred to me, when I visited the hospital Thursday night, that if it was Father Carleson, he’d certainly acted strangely. He stood outside in the cold with his coat collar turned down. He seemed to be making sure he would be seen and recognized as a priest. And, with everything else going on, Kleimer would be identified as Father Carleson, because that’s who he resembled.
“Before going into Demers’s room, he made sure the nurse got a look—just a brief glimpse—at him. He left it to her imagination to figure out who he was supposed to be. And it didn’t take much imagination.
“And, Brad Kleimer has handled enough murder trials and been associated with enough autopsies to know that pressing down forcefully with a pillow to smother someone will leave evidence—evidence a brilliant medical examiner like Dr. Moellmann would never overlook.
“Finally, if Lieutenant Quirt were to miss the coincidence of one of Father Carleson’s parishioners dying—when Father so obviously wanted him to die—Kleimer was perfectly capable of demanding an autopsy.”
Koesler seemed finished with his summary.
“I wonder,” Koznicki said, “if we might have a bit more coffee?”
Koesler called the request to Mary O’Connor. She entered the room with a pot that she placed on an electric warmer.
“The trouble with Kleimer,” Tully said as he poured his coffee, “is that he’s an arrogant bastard.”
“Giving him his due,” Koznicki said, “he was pressed for time. There seemed to be a ground swell in support of Father Carleson. Kleimer was beginning to doubt he could get a conviction with no more than the circumstantial evidence he had. There were unexplained doubts. And a jury cannot convict when there is a shadow of doubt.”
“Williams’s hunch that Maryknoll headquarters was covering up something didn’t pan out,” Tully said.
“Williams is a good detective,” Koznicki said. “But, with one thing and another, his Maryknoll theory might very well have been proven groundless. For Kleimer, time was running out. The perfect ploy was to frame Father Carleson for a murder. No victim would be more tailormade than Herbert Demers. Demers was dying anyway. But his lifetime was growing very short. If Kleimer had not acted when he did, there might well have been no other opportunity to implicate Father in a murder.”
“I agree,” Tully said. “But once we got onto his trail, it was pretty easy to tie up the loose ends. Mary, the clerk at Fuchs religious goods store, picked Kleimer out of a bunch of photos as the guy who bought a clerical shirt the day of Demers’s murder.
“Then there was Michigan Bell. They found that a call had been placed from a neighborhood pay phone to Carleson’s number at 11:15 on the eighth of February. Which proved that Carleson really got the call he said he did. The healthy presumption is that Kleimer made that call. He called from a nearby pay phone so he could check and make certain that Carleson took the bait. If Kleimer had called from a private phone, Ma Bell would not have had the record. Chalk up a couple for the good guys.”
They chuckled.
“But Father” —Koznicki grew serious—” this all began with your suspicion that Brad Kleimer had killed Herbert Demers. I can understand why you were reluctant to believe Father Carleson was guilty of either murder. But what made you suspect Kleimer?”
Father Koesler, in turn, was serious. “I didn’t, at first. Of course I couldn’t bring myself to believe that Don had murdered the bishop. And nothing in the evidence that was found shook my belief. But I must admit that when Don was charged with the Demers killing I had my first serious doubts. It seemed so logical that if he had killed Demers—and that likelihood I had to admit was strong—why could he not have killed the bishop?
“Then, something that Lieutenant Tully said pricked my curiosity. You said, Lieutenant, something to the effect of, ‘If only he hadn’t done it.’ If only he hadn’t murdered Demers, there wouldn’t have been such renewed belief that he had committed the prior murder.
“So the only remaining supposition had to be: What if he, indeed, hadn’t? What if he hadn’t killed Demers? How could someone else do it while implicating Don?
“And, who would, or could, do such a thing?”
“Well, impersonating a priest was not all that difficult. No one in the hospital got a really good look at the ‘priest’ who was seen—from afar—entering the hospital, and then seen almost out of the corner of her eye by the floor nurse.
“Everybody—with good reason, I’m sure—assumed it was Father Carleson.
“Who might have done it? Several people came to mind. Father Bell—to remove himself from any suspicion in the bishop’s murder. He would have the added advantage of being a priest and not having to impersonate one. Honestly—and I’m a bit ashamed to admit it—he was my prime candidate.
“Then there was Michael Shell, another suspect and possible killer.”
“He had an alibi,” Koznicki interjected.
“See? I didn’t even know that,” Koesler said. “Then there was—almost for lack of any other suspects—Lieutenant Quirt. Or, perhaps, one of those crazy movie people trying to steer the story their way.
“Or, it could’ve been almost anybody. One of the hospital personnel intent on a mercy killing. A relative of Mr. Demers trying to hurry nature along. But none of those candidates seemed a logical choice.
“Then came Brad Kleimer. As I said a while ago, he fit the bill physically. Of course, a lot of people could qualify in that category—especially with the brief glimpse he gave the hospital personnel.
“The ultimate reason why I zeroed in on Brad Kleimer was his motive—or what I suspected his motive to be.
“You see, granting that Father Carleson did not do it, whoever killed Demers did it to reinforce the charge that Father Carleson killed Bishop Diego. So I thought, in this scenario, whoever killed Demers didn’t really care one way or the other about Demers’s death. Demers’s death only served to help convict Don of the bishop’s death.
“Something I heard in Ste. Anne’s rectory last Wednesday evening sort of came to mind. One of the priests was complaining about an opponent’s high-handed way of playing chess: He used his more precious pieces—knights, castles, and bishops—as pawns.
“That seemed to be it in a nutshell. Bishop Diego, Lord rest him, used others as pawns in a game for his own advancement. And now somebody was using the death of Bis
hop Diego as a pawn in a game for that somebody’s advancement.
“And that someone was Brad Kleimer.
“Kleimer saw the trial over the bishop’s murder as a grandstand opportunity. It was drawing national and international coverage. For the trial to work to Kleimer’s benefit, the killer should be a priest and Kleimer should convict the priest.
“For the bishop to be murdered by some drugged kid would be news. But not the sensation that would come from a priest who murders his bishop with premeditation and in cold blood. If he could make this charge against Father Carleson stick, Kleimer would become a household word.
“Still and all, I didn’t think that even this fantastic reward would be enough motivation to cause an otherwise sane prosecuting attorney to actually murder an old man whose life hung by a thread. I could understand how fame—celebrity stardom, if you will—could make Kleimer at least consider murder as a means to this goal. But I couldn’t envision his actually doing it.
“But you see, what impressed me most about Brad Kleimer in the brief time I’ve known him, is the degree of vengeance he has toward his former wife.
“I wish we had the time … and—” Koesler chuckled. “—I wish you were interested enough for me to explain how very complex and intricate are the marriage laws of the Catholic Church. Not to mention their number.
“Before being engaged to a Catholic girl, Brad Kleimer had been vaguely aware that the Roman Catholic Church had an enormous number of laws governing entering matrimony and another pile of laws regulating getting out of a marriage once entered.
“He actually made a painstaking study of these laws. I’ve never before experienced a similar case. Why, there are priests who aren’t as conversant with these laws as Kleimer was!
“And he did all that with one thought in mind: to hold his wife in—as far as the Church was concerned—an inescapable bond. He contrived to make sure that should their marriage fail, his wife could never get an annulment.
“I’ve known people, especially those in failed marriages, to be unhappy in direct proportion to their ex-partner’s current happiness. But Brad Kleimer took the cake. The whole purpose of all that study and those precautions was to lock his wife in marriage in the eyes of the Catholic Church— her Church.
“This would be of no concern to him personally. He didn’t care about Church laws as they affected him, because as far as he was concerned they didn’t affect him.
“But they did affect his Catholic wife. And, sure enough, after their civil divorce, his wife discovered that as far as the Church was concerned, she would be considered married to him until one of them died.
“Now his wife did eventually marry. But she had to marry without a Catholic ceremony. And, just as Kleimer had planned, at her core she was miserable.
“Then Father Carleson came on the scene. To make a long story shorter, he passed over every single one of those many, many Church laws and witnessed the marriage vows of Kleimer’s former wife and her present husband.
“Kleimer didn’t discover this until after Father Carleson was indicted for murder. Kleimer was already determined to convict Father. Imagine how he felt when he learned that his former wife was happy and there wasn’t much of anything he could do about it? Even if he tried to get some ecclesiastical action against Father, he’d likely not be successful in this diocese. And even if he were successful, it wouldn’t take away his wife’s bliss. She had her marriage in the Church; she had returned to her sacramental life.
“And that was it!” Koesler concluded on a triumphant note. “That’s what tipped the scales in my mind toward Brad Kleimer as the murderer of Herbert Demers. It wasn’t only the fame he saw slipping from his grasp; it was that Father Carleson had utterly destroyed Kleimer’s carefully planned revenge against his ex-wife.
“I think it was almost a miracle that he killed Demers and not Father Carleson. But he had better plans for Father—plans that included shame, disgrace, conviction, incarceration.” Koesler shook his head in sorrow. “Not, all in all, a very nice person.”
Koznicki and Tully had listened with rapt attention. Each realized how truly helpful this priest had been in this case, as well as in past cases when a crime carried an essentially Catholic character.
“Now that Father Carleson is no longer behind bars and Kleimer has been charged with the murder of Herbert Demers, how goes the case against Julio Ramirez?” Koesler asked.
“Better than I had any reason to expect,” Tully replied. “Ramirez and the two Sanchez girls are out of the hospital but in custody. Julio’s memory is improving. And the details he can’t recall, Estella Sanchez is supplying.
“According to their three individual statements, they knew—as did lots of others—about the bishop’s stash. It was Julio’s idea to take it. His plan was to just go right up to the rectory when they knew the bishop was in his office. They staked out the rectory Sunday afternoon. They spotted the bishop and Carleson when they got back around 5:00. They waited till the lights went on in the bishop’s office. Then they just walked up to the door, rang the bell, and waited while the bishop deactivated the alarm system. He let them in. They gave him a sad song-and-dance about Julio’s mother being in great need. None of them had eaten in days, so they told him.
“It hadn’t occurred to Julio they’d have to kill the bishop to keep him from identifying them. Vicki Sanchez had brought along a piece of lead pipe. When the bishop was sitting in his chair, she passed the pipe to Julio and whispered what he must do.
“So he clobbered Diego in the back of the head. One blow did it. They got the money. They ditched the pipe a few blocks away. Then they bought enough crack to keep a pretty big gang senseless for a long while.
“They even brought us to the pipe. So now we have the murder weapon, complete with prints. We even got it down to this: Doc Moellmann estimated—based on the height of the bishop, the fact that he was sitting down, the angle of the blow—that the perp was about five-six or -seven. Julio is five-seven.”
“One thing, Lieutenant,” Koesler said, “I don’t understand why the kids are being so cooperative.…”
Tully smiled. “Mr. Anthony Wayne. Whatever we could do to them is absolutely nothing compared with what Mr. Wayne’s organization would do to them if they didn’t cooperate with us and tell us the truth.”
“So,” Koznicki said, “it is as Lieutenant Tully thought in the beginning: robbery and murder for drugs. It happens so often. If we had not been sidetracked from the beginning with that preoccupation with Father Carleson, much of this might not have happened.”
Koznicki did not mention Quirt, who was responsible, as far as the police were concerned, for the Carleson preoccupation. It was not in the inspector’s nature to needlessly place blame.
“Kleimer,” Koznicki continued, “might have ended up prosecuting the guilty parties. He might not even have learned what happened to his former wife and her reconciliation with the Church. He definitely would not now be accused of murder. Fate is strange.
“By the way …” Koznicki turned to Tully. “… have you heard who will be defending Kleimer?”
Tully chuckled. “Yeah. Avery Cone. He’s got some free time now that he’s no longer retained by the Church to work on Carleson’s case.”
“And Father Carleson,” Koznicki asked Koesler, “what will he be doing?”
“He hasn’t decided. So much publicity! But I think he’s going to continue his incardination procedure with the Detroit archdiocese. He is, naturally, quite impressed with Cardinal Boyle. And I’m particularly pleased: He has become a dear friend.”
Tully picked up the coffeepot from the hot plate and tipped it over his cup. Nothing emerged.
Koesler reached for the pot. “It’s empty. Here, let me just go fix another pot—”
“No!” Tully responded, somewhat more forcefully than necessary. He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to work. But thanks anyway.”
Koesler looked invitingly at Inspect
or Koznicki.
“No, no … none for me either. We must be back at headquarters. There is always so much to do.”
Once again, Koesler had to wonder. Oh, well; at least his newfound friend Father Carleson liked his coffee.
The two officers were getting into their overcoats. Tully, head tilted toward Koesler, said, “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you …” His tone indicated a facetious question. “… is there any possibility that something Catholic—something spectacularly Catholic—is scheduled for next year?”
“Well,” Koesler said in utter sincerity, “there has been talk of a Papal visit to Detroit—”
Koznicki’s mouth dropped. “A Papal visit! Good Lord, save us!”
To which Koesler replied, “Amen.”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Gratitude for technical advice to:
Father Harry Cook, pastor, St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church, Clawson
Sergeant James Grace, detective, Kalamazoo Police Department
Thomas Hinsberg, ethicist emeritus, St. Joseph’s Hospital, Pontiac
Father Anthony Kosnik, S.T.D., J.C.B., professor of ethics, Marygrove College
Irma Macy, religious education coordinator, Prince of Peace Parish, West Bloomfield
Gwenn Samuel, director of external publications, Detroit College of Law
Colleen Flaherty Stuck, director, Ameritech
Rita Sudol, commissioner, Commission on Spanish Speaking Affairs, Pontiac
Rabbi Richard Weiss, marriage and family therapist
Archdiocese of Detroit:
Father Robert Duggan, C.S.B., pastor, Ste. Anne, Detroit
Sister Bernadelle Grimm, R.S.M., pastoral care (retired), Mercy Hospital
Father Patrick Halfpenny, pastor, St Vincent de Paul, Pontiac
Father Donald Hanchon, pastor, St. Gabriel, Detroit
Jo Garcia, Theological Library Service, Sacred Heart Major Seminary
Karen R. Mehaffey, Theological Library Service, Sacred Heart Major Seminary
Bishop as Pawn Page 29