Part 44 (1/2)

”Indeed,” Max said. ”Ergo, he blames everyone who might might feasibly be among his father's killers.” feasibly be among his father's killers.”

”But, as Lucky just said, that description includes people who are dead by now.”

”You're still a.s.suming the priest thinks about this rationally, which I sincerely doubt is the case,” Max said. ”He has long since grown to blame an entire cla.s.s of people for his father's death, and he has enacted a plan to wreak terrible vengeance on them.”

”But why wait so long to enact it?” I said. ”His father died more than twenty years ago.”

”First he had to grow up,” Lucky pointed out. ”And he probably spent a few years trying to figure out who whacked his old man. Hey, that might even be why he became a priest! Some guys tell their priests everything everything, y'know.”

Max said, ”His practice of his art and his adaptation to changing circ.u.mstances have been resourceful. So I suspect Lucky is right in a.s.suming the young man attempted various methods of solving his problem before choosing to access the dark arts. He would have been thorough in his quest for a guilty party, I believe. And then, of course, he would have needed some years of study and practice to prepare for what he's doing.”

I said grumpily, ”Well, I don't see why he had to do it now now, while I was waiting tables at Bella Stella. I never would have witnessed his first hit or-”

”Opportunity,” Max said, his eyes widening.

”Come again, Doc?”

”Mercury is in retrograde! That's That's why Father Gabriel chose now,” Max said. ”It's a time of maximum confusion!” why Father Gabriel chose now,” Max said. ”It's a time of maximum confusion!”

”Right,” Lucky said, catching on. ”What did you tell us about it, Doc? Messages get lost, things get garbled.” Lucky said, catching on. ”What did you tell us about it, Doc? Messages get lost, things get garbled.”

”Communications get misinterpreted,” I said, ”and people have trouble connecting.”

”Mercury Retrograde made Gabriel's plan more likely to succeed,” Max said. ”It made his victims more vulnerable and his various adversaries less effective.”

”It certainly seems to have worked in his favor so far,” I grumbled as I reviewed the events of recent days.

”We're up against one smart mook,” Lucky said. ”No doubt about it.”

”But what about Buonarotti?” I asked.

”No, he ain't that smart,” Lucky said dismissively. ”And he's a hothead.”

”No, I mean that one of the rumors you mentioned is that the Buonarottis killed Gabriel's father. So why would Gabriel work with Michael Buonarotti now?”

”What if he ain't ain't working with him?” Lucky suggested, putting his shoes and socks back on over his painted feet. ”What if he's just using him?” working with him?” Lucky suggested, putting his shoes and socks back on over his painted feet. ”What if he's just using him?”

”But Gabriel duplicated the widow,” I argued. ”Which we're a.s.suming was essentially a favor to Buonarotti.”

”Well, sure,” Lucky said. ”If you're using someone expendable to do your dirty work, you keep him happy for as long as you need him. You give him little things now, and you promise him big things later on.”

”I see!” Max said. ”Don Michael's motive for working with Father Gabriel is to position the Buonarottis to gain power. But it doesn't necessarily follow that he'll get what he wants when the Corvinos and Gambellos descend into chaos.”

”Oh,” I said, also seeing. ”Gabriel will betray him, or expose him, or turn on him.” I said, also seeing. ”Gabriel will betray him, or expose him, or turn on him.”

”Or get the Gambellos and the Corvinos to turn on the Buonarottis after we've already turned on each other,” Lucky said. ”A three three-way war would make a h.e.l.l of a mess.”

”Yes,” I said with a nod, realizing Lucky was right. ”If he does indeed want to destroy all three families, that may well be his plan.” I felt appalled as I realized the scope of the devious scheme. ”But innocent people could get hurt, too! Even killed. Doesn't he realize that?”

”He's evidently so obsessed with revenge that he considers it acceptable,” Max said grimly. ”After all, he's trying to kill you, though you had nothing whatsoever to do with his father's murder.”

”He's trying to whack Elena and your boyfriend, too, who aren't wiseguys, either,” Lucky added. ”But if Max is right, and Gabriel ain't willing to get physical-which sure sounds like how I remember him as a teenager-then he had to have a wiseguy help him get this thing started. He couldn't do it alone. And Michael Buonarotti was the easiest one for him to recruit, since Gabriel's father was on his crew back when Michael was a young capo.”

”Ah,” Max said, nodding. ”So that's how the accomplice was chosen. Opportunity Opportunity. How fitting.”

”Do you think it's possible Don Michael killed his father?” I asked.

”Of course, it's possible,” Lucky said. ”And you can bet it's occurred to Gabriel. But he's never found no evidence, no motive, nothing to convince him.”

”How do you know?” I asked.

”Because if Gabriel thought he knew who done it, would he bother doin' all this? this?”

”Good point,” I said.

”And even if Don Michael didn't do it,” Max said, ”then he and his organization must nonetheless suffer for failing to protect his employee and prevent the murder.”

”And also for failing to find out who did it and punish him,” I said.

”Hey, you know something?” Lucky said, looking pleased. ”You two are finally startin' to understand how Our Thing works.”

I would have preferred to search the big old echoing shadowy interior of St. Monica's during broad daylight and with lots of people around. Going there at midnight to confront Evil wasn't my favorite possible plan.

However, if Father Gabriel suspected we were getting close to the truth, he would be escalating his activities. So we couldn't wait until daylight. There might well be another victim by then-perhaps several. We had to find and destroy his workshop or altar now now.

Since the church was where he acquired most of his tokens, as well as where he spent most of his time, we decided to start our search there. With our painted faces and our ma.s.sive dog, we had trouble hailing a cab-go figure-so we wound up walking to St. Monica's. By the time we got to our destination, Lucky was complaining that his feet hurt.

The main entrance to the church was locked when we arrived. This didn't surprise us, and Lucky and Max were both adept at entering locked buildings-albeit via drastically different means-so we were able to open the door within moments.

Inside, the church was pitch black.

”Stay here, I'll hit a light,” Lucky said.

A few moments later, I heard the click of a nearby switch, but the church remained cloaked in darkness.

”It's not working,” Lucky said quietly. ”Do you think the priest cut the power?”

”Maybe. Or maybe that switch is one of the gazillion things here that needs fixing.” I now remembered that the women's auxiliary report had mentioned faulty electrical wiring in the sanctuary. I wished I had thought to bring a flashlight. ”We'll have trouble confronting Evil if we can't even see see it.” it.”

”There are candles here,” Max said. ”Let's make our way to some of those.”

”I ain't got matches,” Lucky said.

”Not to worry. I can generate an incendiary effect, but it's momentary and volatile. Ergo, the stabilizing medium of physical substance is exigent.”

”He needs something to burn,” I said to Lucky.

”Oh, okay. Here, take my hand, kid.” A moment later, he said, ”That ain't my hand.” ain't my hand.”