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“He was sure he hadn’t left any incriminating prints. He knew he’d been in the apartment plenty of times and his prints were all over. But he wore gloves when he shot Mrs. Ulrich. So he knew he’d left no prints on the gun or anything else that could link him to her death. And of course he was hoping that everyone would take it for granted that she had committed suicide.”

“But the match?” Koesler asked.

Zoo smiled. “He forgot what lots of killers forget: he wasn’t wearing gloves when he loaded the gun.”

Several of his listeners gasped.

“We were able to get a couple of well-formed prints on the casings that were a perfect match with Fradet.”

“So,” Father Tully said, “what I did was nice as far as a game goes, but it wasn’t so terribly important.” Again he pointed to his brother: “Good, sound police work solved the crime.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, brother,” Zoo said. “You saved Fradet’s life. And you probably saved Adams’s life in the bargain. If he had pulled that trigger, he’d probably have kissed his freedom good-bye-for life.”

“Which brings up: what about Adams?” Anne Marie asked.

“We have booked him on an assault charge,” Koznicki said. “It is a misdemeanor. He is free on his own recognizance. He may be given probation. More than likely his attorney will ask that he be taken under deferred sentencing for one year. If he is clean for that period, the case is dismissed and he will not have a record.”

“We can’t have people walking around waving loaded guns,” Zoo said. “But what Walt just explained is the next best thing to giving Adams a medal. Adams was just a hair from being charged with a felony. The prosecutor considered Adams’s clean record and the murder Fradet is charged with.”

“It’s kind of interesting,” Anne Marie mused. “It seems that Tom Adams was going to kill Jack Fradet, not because he’d had an affair with Barbara Ulrich, but because of his treachery to Adams Bank and Trust. I wonder if he had any inkling as he held that gun on Fradet that Fradet had murdered Mrs. Ulrich.”

“I don’t think Tom Adams was even thinking about her just then,” said Father Tully. “But it is ironic. We have to assume that Fradet figured that normally everybody was too wrapped up in their own affairs to pay any real attention to company scuttle butt. So there was little or no chance that his treachery would be discovered before the situation reached the actual takeover point.

“But Barbara Ulrich was something else. We know from her letter to Mr. Adams that she taxed Fradet with the alleged rumors. Presumably, he figured she was not only capable of further digging, but that she was most apt to follow up. She and she alone, seemingly, had picked up on the rumors and was starting to put two and two together.

“Fradet didn’t dare risk that. The bottom line was, Barbara Ulrich had to go … and as soon as possible. So he killed her,” Father Tully summed up in the manner of a prosecuting attorney.

“What’s going to happen to the bank?” Wanda walked around the table refilling coffee cups. “Has that horrid Fradet man ruined Adams’s bank?”

“He came close,” Father Tully said. “But all this publicity, especially about the sweetheart deals that were promised Fradet after the takeover, seems to be making the monster bank back off. That kind of notoriety they don’t need. As hard as Tom Adams has been working to bail out his bank, it’s a wonder he’s been able to take such good care of Mrs. Fradet. At the end, she was about as good a friend as Barbara Ulrich had. And Mr. Adams is grateful to her as well as sorry for her-after all, it’s not Marilyn Fradet’s fault that her husband is such a selfish traitor.”

“From all this,” Koznicki said, “it looks as if Tom Adams may have to replace every one of his executive vice presidents.”

“Well,” Father Tully said, “Fradet is gone. Of the other two, Martin Whitston is the only one with even a slim chance of survival.”

“Funny,” Zoo said to his brother, “about your theory that one or all of the execs might’ve put out a contract on Al Ulrich: Nothing came of that, even though it was plausible as theories go. But they were involved: each of them was having an affair with the Ulrich woman and even though they weren’t connected in any actual conspiracy, they unknowingly went along with Fradet’s plot to undermine Adams Bank.”

Father Tully pushed himself back from the table, a delighted smile playing about his lips. He turned to Father Koesler. “Is this how it is for you, Bob? You get drawn into an investigation and one thing after another falls into the religious arena until eventually it all gels in your mind … and you get emotionally high?”

Father Koesler smiled in return. Actually he almost laughed out loud. “That’s about the way it is, Zack. I can only hope that you took my turn this year.

“But look: all we’ve talked about is the investigation. This is a farewell party for Father Tully, who now returns to a far-off land known as Dallas. Forgetting about the investigation for now, did you enjoy your time at Old St. Joe’s? And are you coming back to stay, perhaps?”

“I enjoyed everything about this trip-the parish, Mary O’Connor, the Koznickis” — he bowed toward his hosts-“you, the thrill of the case-and very much mostly my new family-my brother and my sister. I’ve still got some thinking and praying to do. All I can tell you is that I’m close to a decision. But” — he smiled-“it would be premature to say which way I’m leaning.”

“I can think of a parish here that would welcome you with open arms,” said Koesler.

“Oh? Which one?”

“Mine. Old St. Joseph’s. I retire next year.”

The announcement caught all of them by surprise. The resultant gasps segued into a barrage of questions.

“It’s my turn to take off the harness,” Koesler said simply.

“But what will you do?” asked Walt Koznicki with genuine concern.

Koesler shrugged. “There are lots and lots of things to do. I haven’t begun to discover all the possibilities. One thing for sure: I won’t be involved in any murder investigations.”

The inspector laughed. “You say that every year.”

“Well then” Koesler said, “there’s one more thing that is certain sure.” He paused. “You-any of you-all of you, will always be welcome to visit me wherever I am and share a cup of coffee with me.” His smile was as broad as it could be.

His listeners were in varying states of shock.

Zoo spoke for them all. “You don’t suppose he’s getting his own joke!”

But Father Koesler just kept on smiling.