Americans. They cannot follow simple commands.
It was exactly seven o’clock when the junior orchestra filed onto the stage to stand next to their seats. The audience applauded, and the teens took a bow. Wearing a shimmering black gown, and her hair swept up in a loose, braided bun, Mila Guseva looked stunning. She acknowledged the orchestra with a nod as she passed, bowed for the audience, and then took the podium. Lifting her baton, she gestured for the orchestra to sit down. The audience settled, and the sanctuary was quiet. After a pause, Fiona saw the woman take in a deep breath, encouraging her ensemble to do the same. The teens followed suit. Then, with a lift of Mila’s baton, they readied their instruments, and on her cue, the sanctuary filled with boisterous music. The concert had gone on for about an hour when Madison stepped away from her chair to play a mazurka in A minor by Chopin, while Tanner Plumb quietly accompanied her on a grand piano, stage left. Like Fiona, the audience was mesmerized, while Mila stood at the podium with her hands clasped at her chest in obvious pride.
Fiona was happy that her personal schedule allowed her to attend her cousin's concert to be held at St. Georges Cathedral in Pittsburgh, PA, where Madison would have a solo! And it was just as wonderful as everybody had hoped for! But...before the audience had even begun to leave, the conductor was found...dead...
And Madison, had found her!
Madison had become very impressed with her conductor and was happy that she would be at tonight's concert, even thought she had not been practicing with them for two weeks. Madison had brought her a bouquet of flowers to present in thanks and congratulations for the concert; however, there seemed to be so many interruptions behind the scenes, that she found herself roaming to the far location where the conductor had wanted to have her dressing room, quite often... And, the last time, she, unfortunately, was the one who found her lying on the floor--dead! And, at least once, she was threatened!
Of course Fiona had to become involved to protect her cousin... And that was quite easy since Nathan, the homicide cop assigned to the case was also Fiona's husband! Who, obviously, soon began to take on and lead the interviews of all those who had been attending the concert--allowing most of the audience to immediately leave after getting their names...
There was at least one major participant within the orchestra's group who had been seen arguing with Mila as soon as she showed up, dressed to kill, some might say, to lead that night after she had been gone for weeks during which the major practices had occurred... But there was not much that could tie anybody to the crime... Still... the concert had been held in a local church and Nathan soon headed to talk to Father Dan...
“Looks like it’s back to St. George’s,” Nathan muttered to himself, as he started the SUV and shoved it into reverse. It was late in the day when Nathan pulled into the parking lot alongside St. George’s Cathedral. Several cars were in the lot, so he made his way to a side entrance and pulled on the door. It opened, and once inside, he could hear a piano playing and women’s voices singing out joyfully. Choir practice. Good. If nothing else, the ladies could tell him where to find Father Dan. He followed the melodious voices to the sanctuary where Maddy’s concert had taken place on Thursday evening. He thought it strange for choir practice to be held on a Saturday, yet with the concert on Thursday and the church being off limits to everyone except police, because of the murder, what other options did the choir have? Nathan made his way down the aisle and stood quietly, waiting for a break in the music. When the hymn ended, one woman nodded in his direction, and the choir director turned. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Yes, I’m looking for Father Dan. Is he around this evening?” The woman’s eyes roamed the sanctuary. “He was here a little while ago. He was listening to our rehearsal. I’m sure he’s in the church somewhere. Maybe his office.” The woman pointed to the doors at the top of the sanctuary. “It’s through the narthex and to the left you’ll find a hallway. It’s down there. Or he could be holding confessions—” “Yes, I know where the confessionals are located. Thanks very much. You sound great,” he said. The ladies smiled, and he turned to find Father Dan’s office. He wasn’t there. Nathan made his way to the alcove that housed the confessionals. Not there either. It was a huge church. Nathan was at a loss as to where to search. He explored hallway after hallway, looking into rooms, and a small chapel with tall stained-glass windows. The building was like an old castle with hallways, rooms, and secret passageways. Nathan explored the church for well over twenty minutes. Still, he could not find the cleric. He found himself in the hallway near the confessionals, and the staircase that led downstairs to the Sunday school rooms. He couldn’t imagine why Father Dan would be down there, but it was worth a try. Otherwise, he had two choices remaining: wait until tomorrow, or visit with the father at the rectory. Nathan descended the stairs. The long, winding hallway was very dim. He turned right toward the rooms where all the action had taken place on Thursday evening—this area was still cordoned off. Maybe Father Dan had decided to survey the room to make sure the police hadn’t done any damage during their investigation. Of course, there could be another reason he was down here. His footsteps echoing through the corridor, Nathan paused to peek into the room where the members of the orchestra had been. The room was dark and quiet. No Father Dan.
He continued along the passageway. His long shadow stretched out along the wall before him, sweeping over the framed photographs of former priests. Nathan had to agree with Madison. Creepy. Up ahead, Nathan could see a light. He hesitated. Sure enough, the beam was shining into the hallway from the room where Mila Guseva had died. Nathan proceeded forward, stepped onto the threshold, and found Father Dan plainly in the throes of a search. Bent over, the priest moved slowly along the walls, scrutinizing the carpet. He stopped, picked something up, and then flicked it away, seemingly disappointed not to find what he was looking for. “I hope our cleaning service did a good job after the crime scene was cleared for cleanup,” Nathan said. Father Dan jerked upward, and with wide-eyes he swung around to face Nathan. Visibly trying to reunite with his composure, he ran his fingers through his thick, white mane. His smile was forced, artificial. He smoothed his hands over his black suit jacket, and he sounded a little out of breath when he spoke. “Yes, they did a wonderful job. Not that there was a lot of blood. I mean, I was told there wasn’t any blood. Ms. Guseva was poisoned, wasn’t she? That’s what I heard; she was poisoned.” A gentle lift tugged at the corners of Nathan’s lips. “Yes. Ms. Guseva was poisoned, but we still send someone in to clean. With the fingerprint powder and the way the CSIs move things about, we don’t like to leave a mess.” Glancing around the room while casually stepping inside, Nathan dug into his jacket to pull out several wrapped candies. He held them out toward the priest in the palm of his hand. “Bite-size Snickers? I use them for a pick-me-up. Long hours. The chocolate helps.” Father Dan waved a dismissive hand. Nathan dropped the extras back into his pocket and then picked at the candy wrapper. “Did you find what you were looking for, Father?” “What makes you think I was looking for something?” “I thought it was obvious you were looking for something. Care to tell me what it was?” Nathan pressed. Father Dan appeared lost for words. “Maybe a bead or a pendant from your rosary? The one that your great grandmother gave you? The one that broke Thursday afternoon? The one with apricot agate beads?” He popped the chocolate into his mouth. “My CSI unit found a pendant from a rosary in here. It has your fingerprint on it, Father. But you said you never met Mila Guseva. Would you like to retract that statement?” Father Dan blew out a regretful breath. “I apologize for lying to you, Detective Landry. I hope you and God can forgive me for that.” He swallowed hard. “The truth is, I did talk to Mila Guseva Thursday evening before the concert.” “Why?” Nathan asked. He watched Father Dan’s face twist in indecisiveness. “Please don’t worry about the confidence of the confessional, Father. I’ve talked with Mike. I know all about the affair, and I know he’s been in confession with you, many times about it. That said, I think you can speak freely about your visit with Ms. Guseva.” “I didn’t kill Ms. Guseva, Detective,” Father Dan stated. “Seems no one did. And yet, she was murdered,” Nathan pointed out. Father Dan scrubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers. “Yes. The Lanes are in crisis and have been for quite some time. I’ve been counseling Diana. Grief counseling. I’ve encouraged Mike to do the same, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea for Madison as well. When he told me about the affair, I reminded him that adultery is a sin against God. Still, Mike continued the affair. When I heard the concert was coming to St. George’s, and when I found out Ms. Guseva was here, I decided to appeal to her, in hopes she would back away from the relationship.” “When did you speak with Ms. Guseva?” “You have to understand, Detective—” “Please tell me when you spoke to Mila Guseva,” Nathan gently insisted. Father Dan drew a deep breath...
“Detective Landry…” Pressing the send button, Nathan swung around. “Yes, Father Dan?” Father Dan quickened his stride toward him. He was visibly out of breath, as if he rushed to catch up with Nathan. He took a moment to catch his breath. “At the risk of sounding crazy, I wanted to tell you that when I ducked into that Sunday school room, I had the strangest feeling that I was not alone. I didn’t see anyone, but I could feel their presence. It may have been my imagination, but I thought it was worth mentioning.” “No, Father, that doesn’t sound crazy at all. I’ve heard that before,” Nathan replied. “Thank you, Detective Landry,” Father Dan said. With that, he slowly headed back to the church. Nathan dialed his cell phone. “Sam Gil…” “Hey, Sam, I need your team to go back to St. George’s first thing in the morning. I’ve got a Sunday school room that I want you to rip apart.” “Why?” “Because I don’t believe in ghosts…not in this case anyway,” Nathan said.
~~~
Nathan was not surprised when Father Dan shared that he felt like there was somebody else there at times but he'd looked around and nobody was there. Madison had already told him that she'd felt the same way... In an old building could there be hidden panels or other means of moving around? Nathan knew just one thing, he didn't believe in ghosts and his investigation moved forward without trying to find any long-dead ghosts...
This was one of my favorites from McDonald. It's fun, somewhat complicated, and, yet, if you allow your mind to think of "who" could be guilty, you just might figure it out before Homicide Detective Nathan Landry... Even if you don't get it totally right, LOL! Enjoy!
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