“So, Reverend Toussaint, since the Mafia had convicted you in absentia in its own kangaroo court, it was obligatory to terrorize you before their very brutal attempt at murdering you. Not only was the symbolism to be carried forward, but, in effect, the murder was to be the message.”
The Inspector paused, glancing at Father Koesler and then returning his gaze to Toussaint. “By their standards—by anyone’s standards—that deadly beating settled a few debts.”
Koesler’s eyes flickered; Toussaint’s face remained impassive.
The Inspector sipped his tea and then resumed. “There is no doubt whatsoever that they would have pursued their plan until it was successfully concluded. They have a phrase for their concept of revenge . . .” Koznicki searched his mind.
“Like taking a stone out of one’s shoe,” Koesler supplied. “Mr. Licata mentioned it during our conversation.”
“Exactly. Once Father Koesler and I were away from police protection—as one day we surely would have been—they would have struck again. And the same would have been true in your case, Reverend Toussaint. Once they realized the report was false, that you were not in a lifelong coma, they would have come for you.
“As it was, instead of remaining in a coma, you were able to pick Licata out of a photographic lineup as the man who was not only present at your clubbing, but, indeed, as the one who ordered it. Licata thought you were in a permanent limbo, whereas actually you were gathering the strength necessary to testify against him.”
“Yes, but that brings up another question,” said Toussaint. “I was able to make a positive identification of Licata and I was able to testify against him. Why then, did Bob have to visit Licata? Was that not taking a foolish and unnecessary risk?”
“I think—I hope—I can answer that to your satisfaction, Reverend,” said Koznicki, “since it was mostly my idea.
“You see, when Father Koesler returned to Dublin from that little village,” he turned to Koesler, “I can never recall its name—”
“Gurteen,” Koesler supplied.
“Yes. Well, he came to see me in the hospital and we arranged this little ruse. Even though you eventually made the identification of Licata, we went ahead with our plan, because, on the one hand, the prosecution can never have too much proof and, on the other, your identification linked Licata only with the assault on you. From that crime to the assaults against Father and myself, the connection becomes most tenuous. We needed something more concrete to prove he was responsible for the assaults against us as well. So, we acquired a secret warrant from Recorders Court Judge Lubienski,” he smiled as he added, “the Polish Connection.”
“And they wired me,” Koesler interposed enthusiastically. Even after two months’ passage, he was still thrilled to have taken part in a procedure he had hitherto seen played out only in movies and on TV. “I carried a small transmitter in an otherwise empty cigarette pack in my shirt pocket and a recorder taped to the small of my back and a wire antenna wrapped around my body.” The priest was once more a kid playing cops ‘n’ robbers.
“Was that not rather dangerous?” Toussaint persisted. “Did you not expect them to search you?”
“We did indeed expect them to search Father—for weapons,” Koznicki responded. “Which is exactly what they did do. But we gambled that they would not find the sound equipment unless they were looking for it specifically.
“And don’t forget: They knew he was heavily taped due to the bruises and muscle injuries suffered in that ‘accident’ in the Burren, so even if they had felt the taped area they undoubtedly would not have questioned it. Of course,” the Inspector grinned at Koesler, “they might have questioned what a man who had stopped smoking five years ago was doing with a half-empty pack of cigarettes in his pocket.”
“Oh,” said Koesler jauntily, “I would have told them that current events had caused me to take up smoking again.”
“Anyway, to get back to your question, Reverend. No sooner was Father admitted to Licata’s inner office than our men entered the waiting room. Remember, with the transmitter, they could hear Father’s side of the conversation as well as all that was said to him. At worst, if Licata’s men had found the sound equipment, our men would have entered the inner office at once and rescued Father. Of course, we would have lost Licata’s self-incriminating disclosure. But, we felt we had to take the chance, for at best—and for once we achieved the best—we would have on tape what, in effect, was Licata’s confession.
“But I can assure you: At no time was Father in any real danger.”
Koesler smiled at Toussaint. “Mother did not raise me for suicidal confrontations.”
Toussaint nodded gravely . . . but there was a hint of a smile on his lips and in his eyes.
“So,” Koznicki summed up, “with Licata’s being sentenced to ten years in an English prison; with the conviction of the Rastafarians responsible for the assaults and murders of the Cardinals; and with the abandonment of the assassination plot by what is left of this splinter group of Rastafarians, we were pretty well able to close the door on this very bizarre case.”
“With one glaring exception, I believe, Inspector.” Toussaint spoke quietly but firmly. “Licata has been convicted of his attempted murder of me in England. But even with the additional evidence you gained, he has not been tried for his crimes against you and Bob.”
“A very interesting point, Reverend. And a very interesting aspect of international law. We were not able to try Licata in the U.S. for crimes committed in another country. We were able to have him extradited to London only because of a treaty existing between the United Kingdom and the United States. There is no such treaty between the United States and the Republic of Ireland, so . . .” Koznicki’s voice trailed.
“It’s the perfect crime, then, isn’t it?” Koesler’s voice held a bit of an edge. “To commit a crime in a foreign country to which the criminal cannot be extradited.”
“I fear that is true,” said Koznicki. “Unless one can find a loophole. For example, in this case,” he smiled, “there is a treaty between the United Kingdom and the Republic of Ireland.”
“So—” said Koesler.
“So that when Licata has served his time in England, he can be extradited to Ireland to stand trial there. Ireland can and undoubtedly will request extradition at that time. Whether the request will be honored by the United Kingdom, we have no way of knowing . . . however, we have no reason to think it will not be.”
“But if it were not?” asked Koesler.
The Inspector shrugged.
Emerenciana’s soft voice broke the silence. “Then suppose something were to happen.”
“Something?” Koznicki felt the stirrings of a vague apprehension.
“What if,” Emerenciana said quietly, “Mr. Licata completed his term of imprisonment in England, and Great Britain refused to extradite him to Ireland?”
“Yes?” the Inspector prodded.
“What if Mr. Licata were then discovered by the Garda in Ireland?”
“Why, they would arrest him on the charge of attempted murder, of course.
“But,” he added, “there is no way Licata would ever set foot in Ireland voluntarily. All he needs do is avoid Ireland and he will avoid a much longer jail term. A term which, added to his time in the English prison, would undoubtedly place him behind bars for most of the rest of his life.”
“There is more than one way a person can travel in our world.” Emerenciana paused. “Not every trip is voluntary.”