Doppelgangster - Laura Resnick [123]
“But I was careless with my wrap,” I said grimly. “So I became a target of opportunity.”
“Opportunity,” Max said again, dwelling on the word. “Our adversary is an improviser. He thinks on his feet and continually adapts his plan to new events and information.”
“And he’s filching stuff from a church.” I was annoyed. “I loved that outfit.”
“You’ve spent more time at St. Monica’s than I have,” Max said. “Whom have you noticed lurking there?”
“The Widow Giacalona, certainly.” I shrugged. “Other women, I guess. They’ve got the hots for the priest.”
“Ah, yes. Well, he is an appealing young man, and it’s amazing how often celibacy creates an aura of . . .” Max sat up straighter, looking stunned. “Good gracious! The priest lurks around the church.”
“Yeah, but that’s his job,” I said dismissively.
“Which means his lurking would pass unnoticed!”
“Oh, but, Max, he’s such a nice . . .” I went blank for a moment, and then a shower of recollections fell on me. “That’s what the victims have in common!”
“The church! The priest.”
I nodded. “Danny was a parishioner there. Lucky said that Charlie went to Mass and Confession every week. And Charlie certainly knew Father Gabriel. He mentioned him the night he died.”
Max said, “We have seen Don Michael Buonarotti there ourselves, whom we believe is the accomplice. And he seems to be on congenial terms with the priest.”
“Buonarotti even courted the widow at the church.”
“Johnny Be Good occasionally went to the church to pray for positive results in his gambling exploits,” Max said. “And by all accounts, he was a careless man from whom it would have been quite easy to collect a token.”
“So easy, it’s probably not even worth trying to figure what the token was.” I recalled, “Johnny must have known Father Gabriel for years. The priest told me a little about Johnny’s youth and said that he—Gabriel—grew up around the Gambellos.” I brought my hands up to my cheeks as I realized what else the priest had told me “Oh, my God!”
“What?” Max rose halfway out of his chair. “What is it?”
“Father Gabriel was the one who planted the suspicions about Elena in my head. Mind you, her own comments made that easy. But he told me at length about her reasons for hating both the Gambellos and the Corvinos.” Looking back at the conversation with a new perspective, I could see that he had incited my curiosity and made leading comments that encouraged me to ask him for more information. “And the information he gave me about her past was so incomplete that it misled me!”
He’d certainly neglected to mention that Don Victor had forgiven Elena for marrying a Corvino and gave her his blessings. After hearing Elena’s version of the past from her doppelgangster earlier tonight, I had assumed that Father Gabriel had merely been misinformed, relaying the popular gossip to me. But now . . . now I saw that he had been deflecting the possibility of suspicion falling on him by directing it elsewhere: to the thrice-widowed Elena.
“Oh, Max,” I said, feeling guilty. “He also . . .” I nodded. “Father Gabriel also tried to drive a wedge between me and Lucky, and it almost worked!”
“How?” Max asked.
“He, uh . . . he told me something bad about Lucky that wasn’t true. But I believed him until tonight.”
“Ah, of course he would try that, upon realizing you were working together. Divide and conquer.” Max nodded. “I gather that Father Gabriel’s lie is the reason for your irritability toward Lucky lately?”
“Yes.” I frowned. My revulsion had intruded on our relationship, but it hadn’t ended our work. “But if the priest intended me to stop cooperating with Lucky, why didn’t he tell a bigger lie?”
“We’re dealing with a subtle individual,” Max said. “He chose a lie that would distract you and, as you say, create a wedge between you and Lucky. But he avoided the mistake of telling a lie so big that you would either disbelieve it or immediately confront Lucky with