Against a Brightening Sky (30 page)

“I arrived in America less than a year ago.” Father Sakovich looked uncomfortable being the center of attention. “Like so many in our community, I left Russia to escape the Bolsheviks and their firing squads. Lenin hates the church as much as he does the monarchy.”

Jack traded looks with Gabe and took the lead. “Let's start at the beginning, Father. Where were you when you heard Mrs. Wetzel call for help?”

“She never called for help.” He glanced at Gabe and back to Jack, puzzled. “Not that I heard. Father Pashkovsky sent me to the storeroom to see if Mrs. Wetzel needed someone to carry boxes back to the church hall. She'd fallen just inside the back door.”

“Fallen?” Gabe stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, hiding how he'd balled them into fists. This was a different story than he'd expected. “Had she fainted?”

“I imagine that's what happened. She didn't come around for a very long time.” Father Sakovich caught sight of the photos of Jaret Rigaux on the desk. He crossed himself, his fair skin mottled with burning red patches. “I—I started to leave, to find Father Pashkovsky and get help, but that's when I saw that poor woman's body and all the blood. I knew I couldn't leave Mrs. Wetzel alone, so I tried to carry her back to the rectory. Father Pashkovsky and Supervisor Devin came out of the rectory and saw us. They helped me get her inside and went back to the church. That's when I called the police.”

He wasn't at all surprised that Sakovich had called the station. Gabe stared at the ceiling, thinking hard about how the storeroom was laid out. “Father, this is important. Think hard before you answer. Did Mrs. Wetzel faint coming into the room or going out? Which way was she facing?”

Father Sakovich looked Gabe in the eye. “She'd just come in, Captain, there's no question of that. I don't think she got more than a foot or two inside the door before she collapsed.”

She couldn't have seen the body
.

Gabe clenched his fists tighter, picturing the way the piano and stacks of boxes hid Eve Rigaux's body until you were well inside the room. He couldn't shake the certainty that the killer had arranged that as part of the tableau he'd so carefully planned.

Mrs. Wetzel had fainted for reasons other than shock at finding someone murdered inside the church. He had to accept the possibility that she might never remember what happened or why she fainted, but he had to ask.

He came back to himself with a start, realizing Father Sakovich was still speaking to him. “Pardon me, Father. I didn't hear what you said.”

“I was wondering if you would tell me the name of the woman who was killed.” The young priest pulled himself up taller and clutched the cross hanging around his neck. The air of being timid and unsure fell away. Sakovich was secure in the practice of his faith. “I want to pray for her soul and ask God to forgive her sins.”

“Her name was Eve Rigaux.” Gabe cleared his throat and pointed to the photographs strewn across his desk. “The man in the pictures was her husband, Jaret. You should pray for him too.”

“I will.” Father Sakovich nodded to Jack. “Good-bye, Captain, Lieutenant.”

“One last question, Father.” The young priest paused in the doorway, waiting, and Gabe hesitated a second. A lot rested on Sakovich's answer. “Did Father Pashkovsky or Supervisor Devin know you were calling the police?”

Sakovich gripped his cross tight. “No, Captain. I didn't tell them until after the police were on the way. They were very angry, but my conscience is clear. I did what was right.”

“Thank you, Father.” He went to the door and shook Father Sakovich's hand again. “Please call the station if you think of anything else.”

Gabe stood in his office doorway, watching Sakovich walk down the corridor. Once the priest disappeared into the lobby, he came back inside and dropped into his chair.

Jack was scribbling in his notebook, recording the conversation before he forgot the details. He glanced up at Gabe and went back to writing. “Explain something to me, Captain Ryan. Why would a city supervisor and a priest be angry about the police being called to the scene of a crime?”

“I can think of only two reasons, Jack.” He laid a picture of Eve's body on the desk, right next to a photo of her husband. “Either the two of them killed her, or they're covering up for the person who did.”

“Why would Devin get himself involved with the Bolsheviks? He made campaign speeches condemning anarchists and makes anti-union statements to the papers all the time.” Jack chewed the end of his pencil, a habit Sadie couldn't break him of. “Devin has money and a good family name. I think he's got the morals of an alley cat, but people in his district are convinced he does a good job. He could be governor in ten years. Why throw that away?”

He thought for a minute, trying to find a logical way around the answer that tied his guts into a knot. “What if that wasn't Devin? If Delia's right, and I'm afraid she is, we have to take that into consideration.”

Jack stared for an instant, wrestling with the implications of what Gabe had said. Finally he set his jaw and nodded. “All right, we'll consider the idea that man was an impostor. And Father Pashkovsky? Do you really think a priest would commit murder?”

Gabe stretched out his long legs, studying the scuffed toes of his shoes. “Jordan doesn't think so, and normally I wouldn't either. But you didn't meet him, Jack. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something very strange about him.” He looked up to find Jack watching him. “The union man Sam talked to said Pashkovsky was a boyhood pal of Aleksei Nureyev in Russia. They were supposed to have grown up in the same village. The man Jordan and I met is old enough to be Aleksei's father.”

“The girl in Maggie's house, Trula May.” Jack dug through the pile on Gabe's desk until he found the paper he wanted. “She said there were two men in the room with her and Mr. Rigaux.”

“Trula never saw their faces. Those two men could have been anyone.” He needed to check with Maggie and make sure Trula was still safe. Gabe yawned and rubbed his face. “Assign a man to follow Devin for a few days. Tell him not to worry too much about staying out of sight. If the supervisor questions why he's being tailed, we'll make something up about threats connected to the murder. We should know one way or the other in a few days.”

“Noah Baxter would be a good choice.” Jack scribbled more notes in his notebook. “What about Pashkovsky?”

“Station two men across the street from the church round the clock. Send Perry and Finlay for the first shift. Have them go inside and tell Father Pashkovsky the same story we're telling Devin.” Gabe stood and got his coat from the rack behind the door. “If they're on the street, he can't do anything about it, but if he pushes for them to leave, tell Perry to push back. Maybe we can make him angry enough to make a mistake.”

Jack's expression was closed off, but Gabe knew him well. His partner was weighing all the facts and forming an opinion. If Jack disagreed with Gabe's decisions, he'd hear about it.

Instead, Jack nodded and closed his pencil into his notebook. “Having cops around might make Pashkovsky think twice about giving Father Sakovich trouble.”

He didn't need Jack's approval, but having it always made him feel he was on the right track. “I'm hoping knowing he's being watched makes Pashkovsky think twice about a lot of things. At the very least, it will buy us some time. I want to talk to Mullaney again and see if he can arrange for me to speak with some of his men. Dora told me there are any number of Russian counts and dukes waiting tables at the Fairmont. It won't hurt to talk to them.”

“Is that where you're headed now, to see Mullaney?”

Gabe didn't miss the wistful look in Jack's eye or the hint of longing in his voice. They'd worked cases together for more than fifteen years, picking up on each other's cues and taking turns asking questions. Building a case was easier with both of them assembling clues and information.

Being stuck in the office was hard on Jack. It was hard on Gabe too.

“Not until Sam brings Jordan back. I thought I'd go down the street to Allen's Cafe and bring back some sandwiches and coffee.” Gabe buttoned his overcoat and took down his hat. “My treat. You can give me ideas of how to approach Mullaney over lunch.”

Jack nodded solemnly and pulled another pile of report folders to his side of the desk. “Bring some strawberry pie back too. Anita Allen makes the best strawberry pie in the state. They are in season now, aren't they?”

“If not, I'll get apple pie.” Gabe grinned, forgetting the case hanging over their heads for a few precious seconds. As he turned to leave, Gabe caught sight of the photographs of Eve and Jaret Rigaux lying side by side on his desk. His lighthearted mood disappeared.

The only way to really forget this case was for him and Jack to solve it. That day couldn't come soon enough.

 

CHAPTER 15

Delia

The distance between our house and Dora's wasn't really that far, but she'd become increasingly anxious about leaving Alina for any length of time. As a result, we made a mad dash, taking a route that encompassed shortcuts through back alleys and streets that seldom saw much traffic. I held on tight, trying not to think of the speedometer edging upward or how she navigated corners at top speed. Serious conversations were the easiest way to ignore the scenery whipping past.

“Gabe and I have been talking.” The wind caught my words and snatched them away. I raised my voice. “We're considering buying a second car so I don't have to depend on others for transportation. You wouldn't have to pick me up all the time or go out of your way to bring me home. And on occasion, I could drive instead of it always falling on you.”

Dora stuck her lip out, pouting prettily. Young Stella had already learned how to melt away Jack's objections to almost any request by doing the very same thing. I'd be hard-pressed to say if Stella had learned the expression from Dora or her mother. “But I have so much fun driving the two of us around, Dee. And I really don't mind picking you up, really I don't.”

The three princess ghosts watched the exchange from the corner of the windshield, all of them keenly aware of what was said. I'd grown used to one ghost watching me from every shiny surface. Seeing three was still sobering and a bit startling.

“That isn't it, Dora, I assure you.” Officer Bryant saw us coming and opened the big iron gate at the foot of the drive. Dora waved and gave him a bright smile as we flew past. We barreled up the drive toward the house without Isadora slowing at all. I braced myself for the jolt when she stopped. “It's really rather maudlin, if you must know. Gabe doesn't want me to have to depend on others if something were to happen to him. As a matter of fact, he held you up to me as an example.”

We came to a halt in the turning circle in front of the house. Dora set the parking brake and gave me a look that fell somewhere between skeptical and aghast. “Did he, now? Your husband is full of surprises. But yes, that is rather maudlin even if it is practical. Is Gabe still having nightmares about the riot?”

“Oh yes. The two of us make a perfect pair.” I gestured at the trio of ghosts on the windshield. “I dream about the terrible things that happened to them, while Gabe dreams about not being able to save the children and the two rookies who died at the fountain. Breakfast conversation is a bit on the bleak side these days. What happened this morning didn't help matters. He brought up buying me a car again after he'd dressed for work.”

I'd already told her about Gabe's keeping watch in the darkened house and Mai's standing guard at his side. She'd frowned but kept silent until I'd finished.

“Gabe's had a difficult couple of weeks, but learning you're not invincible is never easy. Since he's not sure he can protect himself anymore, he's trying to protect you instead.” Dora patted my hand before opening the car door. “Things will settle again soon. But Gabe does have a point about being able to cope on your own, and he was absolutely right about not hesitating to use his gun if threatened. Don't dismiss his suggestions out of hand.”

“I'm not. It's just all rather sudden.” I came around to her side of the car, admiring the deep green morning glory vines around the front windows and the purple wisteria framing the door. Dora's wards glimmered underneath leaves and blossoms, shining bright even in sunlight. “Were you prepared when Mikal died?”

“Not at all.” She slipped an arm around my shoulders as we went up the steps. “I was very young and sure he would always be there. Mikal spoiled me outrageously, which made it all the harder once he was gone. Don't live your life dwelling on the possibility of disaster, Dee, but be ready to stand on your own, just in case.”

We'd reached the top step when another car pulled up and parked behind Dora's. Sam and Jordan Lynch got out. They waited next to the car just long enough for Sam to pull a package out of the backseat before coming up the steps to meet us.

“Good morning, Delia, Dora. You're both looking lovely as always.” Sam grinned and kissed Dora on the cheek. “I hope you don't mind that I brought Jordan along.”

She gave him a half smile, but the skin around her eyes tightened. “Flattery so early in the morning, Sam? You must have more up your sleeve than bringing Jordan for a surprise visit.”

Jordan Lynch rested both hands on the head of his cane, a position that let him take some of the weight off his injured leg. “Don't lay all the blame on Sam. I talked him into bringing me along. I saw how Gabe works yesterday, and I'd like a peek at how you and Mrs. Ryan do things. If you don't want me hanging over your shoulder, just say so. I can wait in the car until Sam's ready to leave.”

I caught the look Dora gave Sam. Jordan's curiosity amused her, but she was annoyed that she hadn't had time to prepare for his visit. Dora let very few strangers into her house, and one afternoon's acquaintance didn't make Jordan any less of a stranger.