Angel Food and Devil Dogs (38 page)

"Maggie, are you here?"

"Yes, I'm in the choir loft. I have a pretty good view."

"Excellent. I received the report on the attack on Rowlina from the police. We should go over it after the service. You can come to the mansion, can't you?"

I said, "I have people to speak to after the service, but I'll come over right after I do." Bouchet agreed and resumed his meet and greet.

Daniel Cohen came in with an attractive woman I recognized as his wife, from the picture on his desk. They sat near the back row. Soon after, several younger people came in and sat in Cohen's row, greeting Daniel deferentially. Must have been his current students. Immediately after that three more young people came in and greeted Cohen affectionately. They must be graduates who were now making a ton of money based on the skills Cohen had taught them.

A large crowd pushed through the door with Jimmy Harmon in the lead. A woman and three redheaded kids, obviously his family, were with him. A group of music students and musicians followed, including Jack Leavitt and Mike Jacobsen. I stared at Jimmy with the binoculars. Did he look like a guy who'd use a piano as a deadly weapon? He looked agitated, but then that was his general song and dance.

The numbers of people entering began to swell. It was five minutes to eleven. I saw Farrel and Jessie come in a side entrance, with their friend Judith Levi. Kathryn was with them. Her presence made my heart leap and other parts of my body tingle.

Farrel and Jessie found a seat halfway along the aisle. Kathryn took off her coat and placed it next to them, but walked to the entrance to say a few words to Max. She clasped his hand and nodded while speaking. Judith Levi had seen Cora Martin, they were long time chums and about the same age. Judith sat down with Cora and Doug Scribner, another friend who'd be at the brunch later. Sara and Emma were sliding into a pew two rows behind Farrel and Jessie. They sat with some other people; I recognized them as other members of the Arts Commission. Leo Getty came in by himself. He shook hands with Max, and then walked slowly down the aisle. His face was still as red as it had been when I'd seen him last. Spying an empty seat, he stooped to cross himself before he slumped into it.

Kathryn walked slowly back down the aisle. She had on a dark suit, with a skirt that reached just below her knees. I realized that seeing her formally dressed was stimulating, but then, everything about Kathryn was stimulating. She'd stopped to talk to someone. It was Connie Robinson wearing a short winter jacket over a dark blue dress that was a little too tight for her. She was talking earnestly to Kathryn, then she hugged her. Kathryn hugged Connie back in a consoling way, patting her back. Connie was crying.

Back at the entrance, Bart Edgar came in with Nancy. She led him to a pew on the left aisle and they slid into place. I would talk to them after the service.

I saw Adam Smith, Georgia's husband, sitting with her two sons. He looked tired, but not as tired as he had when I'd seen him in the hospital.

No sign of Carl's sister, Eileen Crenshaw. I doubted whether she or Carl's brother Kevin Rasmus would bother to attend. So far they were the most unpleasant characters in this scenario and they had the best motive because of the money they thought they'd inherit. Unfortunately, there was no way I could pin the crimes on them. Everything that had happened really required someone who was on the spot and they were just too far out of the picture.

Sweeping the crowd with my binoculars I picked out Janie Rasmus, way in the back in a dark corner, sitting with an older woman and a blond young man. I was glad she was there, for Carl's sake. I wondered if Janie had actually walked out on Kevin yet and I speculated on who the people she was sitting with were. I noticed Vice Principal Goldenberger of Hadesville High sitting right behind them. Good for him for showing up.

Everyone was settling down now. Kathryn sat next to Jessie, who had Farrel on her other side. I yearned to know what Farrel and Kathryn had talked about on their trip to the antique markets.

Max Bouchet came back up the aisle and sat with Shanna, signaling that things would begin soon. Amanda Knightbridge came through the entrance as the ushers were closing the doors. She sailed down the aisle not seeming to notice anyone until she stopped next to Kathryn. Kathryn invited her to sit down next to her, bidding Farrel and Jessie to move over. I watched with the binoculars in fascination as Amanda Knightbridge, who seemed to be quite pleased, spoke to Kathryn. I would swear Kathryn blushed as she shook her head. Amanda asked her something else and Kathryn shook her head
no
again.

Amanda looked around the room for just a second, then peered toward the choir loft directly at me, even though it was so dark where I was standing it must have been impossible for her to actually see me. Amanda bent her head to Kathryn's ear. Kathryn leaned forward and looked up to where I was standing in the balcony. I leaned into the light for just a second so she could see me. She didn't wave or give me away; she just smiled, then turned to face the front of the church. I noticed Amanda Knightbridge's face had taken on an attitude of sublime satisfaction. That woman was downright scary.

The College Chaplain spoke from the heart about Carl. Unlike many funerals the person delivering the eulogy had really known the one who died.

I flashed on the main doors again, one was opening slightly to let in Rowlina Roth-Holtzmann. I was wondering if the hospital would hold her; there hadn't seemed much reason to. Thank goodness she wasn't wearing that dead animal on her head. Her new overcoat billowed as she twitched into a pew at the back. The police must have kept her bullet-pierced one as evidence.

Doors behind the Chaplain sprang open and an orchestra entered. Not a quartet, or a small band, but a full fledged strings and brass orchestra. There was even a grand piano being pushed in. I gulped. Rolling pianos had suddenly become my new phobia, I wondered how long that would last. A hundred people, all toting their instruments, chairs, and music stands clattered themselves around the apse and waited.

Jimmy Harmon got up from his seat and walked slowly down the aisle to lead the group. He turned to the
audience
and said simply, "Carl wrote many fine pieces of music. We will play one of his sonatas; the "Sonata in E Flat," his "Concerto for Piano," and a contemporary piece called, "I Can See"."

Jimmy was total concentration. He became one with the group and they played the sweetest music I've ever heard. Each of the pieces was honest and pure. The song at the end was sung by Caitlyn Zale, who'd been at the recording studio the day Carl died. She sang like an angel, holding the listeners in the palm of her hand.

Carl's song, "I Can See," had both the lines
I'm a blind man
and
I'm a gay man
in it. I was glad Carl's true self was being celebrated on this day that had been set aside just for him. During each piece, I watched the room with the binoculars. By the end of the concerto, most people were teary. I saw Kathryn wipe her eyes several times. As Caitlyn progressed through Carl's song, everyone was blinking back tears. Janie Rasmus and the woman and young man with her, were crying like babies. Farrel was too. She's such a sap. Yet, I have to admit, I wiped my eyes a few times too. It was all very moving; beautiful, sad, and hopeful all at the same time.

At the end of the music, Max Bouchet was at the podium saying that we should all celebrate Carl's life and strive to emulate his courage. I made another silent vow to Carl,
I'll find out who killed you, and bring him or her to justice.

Since this was the regular campus Sunday service, the Chaplain was up again telling folks they could all come up and receive communion. People began to queue.

Kathryn had told Farrel I was up here in the loft. Farrel caught my eye and gestured subtly with a slight head toss for me to come down and join them. I ran down the steps, then skirted the room coming around to the far side of the pew. A student had stopped to speak to Kathryn. She didn't notice as I slipped in alongside of Farrel.

"Well?" I said impatiently.

Farrel grinned, then glanced at Kathryn who was still turned away. Jessie had noticed me and reached across Farrel to squeeze my hand, then she leaned a little forward making it impossible for Kathryn to see me. Allowing me and Farrel to talk for a moment without interruption.

"Well?" I demanded more urgently.

"OK, OK... she's falling for you, honey, that's pretty damn clear. So don't screw this up, because she may be the
one
."

"But what did she say?" I couldn't help grinning either.

"I grilled her and frankly she grilled me right back. About you. Look we can talk about this some other time -- but here's the 60 second version: I think you two are very well suited..."

"But?" I asked.

"Well, she likes to be in control and I'll bet she can be very stubborn. If you and she argue, it's going to be pretty intense, and you aren't going to win. Um... I think she's going to need her own space... at least some space that's all her own... and she may want a little more attention than you have time to give her. And... this might just be my erotic imagination but, she seems to be extraordinarily hot for you."

"Farrel, I can't imagine not paying attention to her."

"I can see that."

"What did she say that made you think... I mean, that she's... you know... hot?" I reddened a little.

Farrel snickered, "You don't need me to explain that."

Just then, Jessie leaned back and I found myself looking directly into Kathryn's eyes. They were electric. Her half smile twitched for just a second. Causing me to feel instantaneous lust. I winked slowly at her, then turned back to Farrel exhaling.

I said, "Bouchet wants me to look at some papers, so could you please take Kathryn to your house after the service? I'll see you all as soon as I can." People were still going up the aisle for communion so I slid back out of the pew and worked my way around the inside of the building again, managing to find Bart Edgar and Nancy.

I sat down next to Nancy with Bart on her other side. I didn't even bother to speak to him, I just asked her point blank... "What bottle did Bart pick up in the conference room?"

Nancy exhaled through her nose in an exasperated way. "He says he went to get coffee," she spit out with supreme irritation. I figured he'd better hurry up and marry her or he'd lose her to annoyance.

"But the coffee pot is in the waiting room," I pointed out.

"I know," said Nancy flatly.

"But..." I began. Nancy just shook her head stiffly. This was Bart's story and for now, he wasn't going to budge. Maybe he really did forget where the coffeemaker was. I looked beyond Nancy into Bart's foggy eyes. He nodded for no reason. Punching him in the nose fluttered through my mental suggestion box. I decided it wouldn't help.

The line of people getting communion had almost ended. I left Bart and Nancy and made my way to Max and his wife Shanna.

"Things seem OK here," I said to Max after I'd slid into the pew behind him. I didn't want to get into the piano incident right then.

He turned around and nodded, "The closing prayer is about to start, I have to be with the Chaplain to shake hands with people as they leave. Maggie, you can't see the security today, can you? We worked on their undercover disguises yesterday."

I turned and glanced around the room, easily picking out four of the security guards. I'd noticed all of them when I'd been in the choir loft. I said to Bouchet, "No, can't see them... good job."

He beamed, then got up to make his way to the entrance.

I moved to the back of the Chapel near the door so I could scout all these folks one more time. Jimmy Harmon was gone. When he'd finished directing the musical piece he'd walked right down the aisle. I'd thought he was going back to his seat, but he wasn't there. He was acting like such a squirrel today. Maybe that was an understatement since there was more than a 50/50 chance that he'd just tried to kill me with a loaded piano.

I made my way to his family, stooping down to speak to his wife. Her name was, I searched my brain... Linda. "Excuse me, Linda?" I said as though I knew her.

"I'm sorry...?" she said courteously. She didn't know who the hell I was, but this kind of thing probably happened to her all the time, since Jimmy was a celebrity.

"Yeah, hi, I was supposed to help Jimmy with the instruments," I said vaguely. "Where'd he go?"

She had a slightly worried look, but mixed with it was the knowledge that Jimmy was always disappearing and then turning up later, doing something creative. "I don't know," she said. "After the pieces he walked back here, but he just kept going up the aisle."

"What kind of car did you come in? Maybe he's out in the parking lot?" I suggested in a helpful tone... but I really wanted to know if Jimmy had an extra car that happened to look like a Neon.

"We all came in the minivan... Oh golly, I hope he didn't take it." She glanced at the three cute little redheaded kids sitting with her. They were being really good considering they'd just sat through a long church service.

The Chaplain said loudly, "Let us sing." Everybody flipped pages. It was that rainbow song that they do at the Metropolitan Community Church. Rainbows, underscoring that Carl was a gay guy. I liked that. There were a heck of a lot of gay people there, transgender people too. And they were singing their hearts out. I wondered if this 100-year-old Chapel had ever had dozens of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people singing a gay hymn in honor of a gay man, with such fervor. Maybe. There have always been gay people in the world, it's just that now, we no longer buy into pretending we're the same as the majority, just so the majority won't be uncomfortable.

I eased out the side door and found a spot near some bushes where I'd be able to see people coming out of both the main entrance and the side. The people exiting from the front were going to have to bottleneck at the handshaking
reception line.
The side door would be used by the folks who were either incognito or wanted to speed off to a local diner for an artery-hardening brunch. At this very moment however, people were still singing inside. No one had bolted for the doors yet. The old stone sidewalks, which had been shoveled clear of snow and ice, waited silently for Carl's mourners.