Part 23 (2/2)
”You just worry about yourself, cookie, and keep outta my way.” Annie brushed past and Frank let her stomp ahead.
Back in the car, Annie gunned into traffic.
Frank explained, ”It's just you being Catholic and him being a priest, it made me wonder.”
”Yeah, well, don't wonder no more. You maybe let your personal life interfere with your work. Me? I got twenty-six years on the Job. You don't think I've ever worked a priest before? I could work the Pope if I hadda, cookie, so don't you worry about a chump like Cammayo.”
”All right. Sorry.”
Annie shook her head and grumbled. She fished through her purse and chomped on espres...o...b..ans. ”It's Sunday, you know. I could be home, but what am I doin'? Runnin' around chasin' down a cold one for you, that's what I'm doin'. And what do I get for it? aAnnie, can you interview a priest?' No, this I do not need.”
Staring out her window, Frank let Annie rant.
Annie parked at the precinct and Frank followed her upstairs. Annie flipped on her computer. Frank sat and watched.
”Think you could make coffee while I work?”
”You runnin' Pablo Cammayo?”
”Yeah. Wanna tell me how to do it?”
Frank bit off a smile and made the coffee.
After she brought Annie a ”regular,” meaning with a regular amount of cream and two sugars, Annie told the monitor, ” aFraid we ain't gonna get much, this being asixty-nine and prior. Got somethin', though.”
She hit the print b.u.t.ton and Frank retrieved the paper. Lifting a brow she read, ”Nineteen seventy. Busted in Kansas. Armed robbery. Did half a nickel in Leavenworth. Paroled early.”
Annie scrolled and typed. Her coffee got cold. At last she sat back, whipping off her reading gla.s.ses. ”After that, nothin'. Probably shot a hot load and is pus.h.i.+n' up daisies in a Podunk Potter's Field. You know that's the odds, right?”
”Yeah,” Frank agreed. ”I still want to talk to Cammayo.”
”He's got a five o'clock ma.s.s. It's one thirty. Ya already ruined my Sunday. Wanna ride to Brooklyn?”
”Thought you'd never ask.”
CHAPTER 40.
Father Cammayo was at Our Lady Queen of the Angels. Obviously dismayed to see the women, he checked his watch. ”Sunday's a busy day for me.”
”It's my day off,” Annie countered. ”Surely you can spare ten minutes.”
Cammayo looked at his watch again. ”No more.”
”Good. You tell us the truth, Father, and it shouldn't even take that.”
”What truth might that be?”
”We talked to your sister Flora this mornin'. And your mother. Very nice women, both of aem. Very helpful. Very fond of you. Very respectful of how you've always wanted to be a priest. How you had the callin' since you were this high,” Annie said with her hand over the floor. ”So enough already with Franco's murder and your sudden epiphany. And tell ya the trut',” Annie confided, ”your story wasn't that good the first time ya told it.”
”What else did they tell you?”
”You're pressed for time, Father. We don't need to go into that. So tell us again why you're still takin' flowers to this man's grave.”
”They wouldn't understand,” he told his folded hands. ”It was an epiphany. A vision, if you will. I'd always known I would be a priest, yes, in my head. But standing on the sidewalk that morning I knew it in my heart. That was when I truly felt touched by G.o.d, when Christ became real for me, a man of flesh and blood as I was, who suffered. But as I admitted, I was weak. I didn't want to suffer like Christ-choosing to follow a life of the spirit seemed less a trial than following a life of the flesh. And that morning I felt as if G.o.d had touched me personally, had approved my choice and offered His grace even though I felt it was a coward's way out. So it was an epiphany. And I still am grateful after all this time.”
Frank clapped. ”Nice, Father. Maybe it'll play in the pulpit but I'm not buying it.”
”That's your choice,” he conceded. Looking at his wrist again, he added, ”Now I really must go.”
Frank looked at her watch too. ”Aw, you said ten minutes, Father. Don't tell me you're not a man of your word.”
”If you don't believe me what else can I say?”
”Well,” Annie responded. ”You could tell us about Pablo.”
Cammayo blinked. ”Pablo.”
”Yeah. Pablo.”
”What about him?”
”When was the last time you saw him?”
”Nineteen sixty-nine.”
”Yeah, winter, right?” Aiming in the dark, Annie added, ”The night of February twelfth, to be precise. What happened that night?”
Cammayo's Adam's apple rose and fell. ”I don't know where my brother is.”
Annie shot an eyebrow up. ”I didn't ask ya that. I asked what happened that night.”
”It was a long time ago. I was young. I don't remember.”
Annie was crestfallen. ”No disrespect, Father, but you're killin' me here. All my life a Cat'lic, and here's a Father lyin' to me. You're breakin' my heart here.”
Frank interrupted. ”Thing I wanna know is, how'd you know Franco died for three dollars?”
”What are you talking about?”
<script>