The Bass Wore Scales (The Liturgical Mysteries) Page 12

“Two tornados,” added Nancy.

  “Give…me…back…my…gorilla!” said Dr. Pelicane, slowly, with emphasis on every word of her demand.

  “It’s not that easy now,” said Sergeant McKay. “If that gorilla’s killed someone, he’s got to be quarantined and destroyed. That’s the law.”

  “What?!” yelled Dr. Pelicane, her voice rising close to hysteria. “He didn’t do it. I’m sure he didn’t. And if he did, there’s a perfectly logical reason. You can’t just kill an intelligent animal!” She looked in desperation to Kent and then to me.

  “Look,” I said. “One problem at a time. We’ve got to get Kokomo out of there and somewhere safe.”

  “He can come back with me,” said Dr. Pelicane, desperation evident in her voice. “I can lock him in the motor home.”

  “That’s not an option,” said Sergeant McKay. “No offense ma’am, but if he’s killed someone, he’s got to be under the control of the Fish and Game Commission until he’s put down.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t his fault!” cried Dr. Pelicane. “I’ve had him for twenty years! He’s never harmed anyone!”

  “We’ve got a dart gun in the trunk,” Burt offered. “We use it for black bears, but it should take down a gorilla. How big is he? I can set the dosage by his weight.”

  “Five hundred pounds,” I said. “You still want that net?”

  Burt smiled, shook his head and went over to the trunk of the squad car.

  “Let me talk to Kokomo!” demanded Dr. Pelicane. “He’ll listen to me!”

  Sergeant McCay ignored her. “The Fish and Game Commission has an office in Greensboro. I’ll call over there and find out what they want us to do.”

  I nodded glumly and turned to Dr. Pelicane. “Even if Kokomo did listen, he wouldn’t be allowed to go with you. You understand that, right? He’d have to go with the Fish and Game Commission, and I’m not sure that he’d be too keen on that right now.”

  “Do something!” Dr. Pelicane yelled at Kent.

  “Penelope…I…” Kent was at a loss.

  “First things, first,” I said. “Look, if we can’t get him tranquillized and out safely, he’s likely to have to be shot, so why don’t you sit down over there, and let these officers do what they have to do. The dart won’t hurt him, and we’ll be able to move him safely. Then we can get Kilroy’s body out of there and figure out what to do next.”

  * * *

  Kokomo was sitting in the corner of the bathroom spa with his eyes closed when the two Boone officers, Nancy and I inched our way back into the room. I could see that the officers were as stunned by the carnage as we had been. Sergeant McCay had the dart gun loaded. Nancy, Burt and I had our service pistols drawn and ready in case we had need of them.

  “You’re going to have to hit him where he can’t reach it and pull it out,” I said.

  “And where’s that?” asked McCay.

  “I have no idea. Take your best guess.”

  McCay’s dart went into Kokomo’s arm. I expected that he’d yank it out, but he just grunted, kept his eyes closed and didn’t move. After ten minutes of watching him, we walked up toward what we hoped was a sleeping gorilla. It was.

  We called Dr. Pelicane and Kent into the spa. She saw the sleeping form in the far corner and ran across the tile, ignoring the body, still floating face down in the water.

  “Is he okay?” she said.

  “He’s fine, I think,” said Sergeant McCay. “Just sleeping.”

  “What’s the word from Greensboro?” asked Nancy.

  “They said the animal has to be quarantined for seventy-two hours to see if it shows any signs of being infected. Then, if the death was an accident, like maybe getting kicked in the head by a horse, there’s some leeway. But if it was an attack, like a pit-bull or a bear attack, the animal is destroyed.”

  “Oh no!” said Dr. Pelicane. “This can’t be happening.”

  “But it may be,” said Sergeant McCoy, “that if the family of the victim doesn’t want to see the gorilla destroyed, we can talk to Raleigh and see what they say. This is a famous gorilla, after all.”

  “Really?” said Dr. Pelicane, a modicum of hope retuning to her voice. “With whom do I have to speak?”

  “I guess that Mrs. Kilroy would be a good place to start,” I said.

  “So,” Nancy said, “where do we quarantine this gorilla?”

  “Fish and Game said to take him to the nearest animal facility. That’d be up here, I guess. Doesn’t St. Germaine have an animal shelter?”

  I nodded. “Behind Gwen Jackson’s veterinary practice. There are several big enclosures. She’s kept black bears back there occasionally.”

  “Then let’s take him over there,” said McCay. “It’s only for a few days.”

  “And I’m going to want to be there as well,” said Dr. Pelicane. “I presume that there’s somewhere I can park the motor home.”

  “We’ll ask Dr. Jackson,” I said. “But I can’t imagine that there’d be a problem.”

  “I’ll just ask Kokomo what happened when he wakes up,” said Dr. Pelicane. “He’ll explain everything.”

  “Huh?” said Burt.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “This is a talking gorilla.”

  “That gorilla can talk?” exclaimed Burt. “Holy Moses!”

  * * *

  With Kokomo asleep, I went over to the pool, fished the body to the side, spun him over in the water and looked down on the face of Brother Jimmy Kilroy.

  “It’s Kilroy, all right,” I said. “I was pretty sure already, but, yeah. That’s him.”

  Todd McCay and I pulled him out of the tepid water and laid him out on the cold tile.

  “Looks like his neck is broken,” said Kent. “But I’ll still have to do a work-up.”

  I nodded. “You’re the best coroner around. Do it as quickly as you can.”

  “I’ll get to work as soon as I get the body to the lab. Did you call the ambulance?”

  “Already done,” said Nancy.

  The ambulance drove up to the church, lights blazing and siren wailing. The two EMTs on duty were Mike and Joe. Nancy had been dating Mike, off and on, for about a year, and she adjusted the jacket around her waist when she saw him.

  “Hi, Nance,” he called, as he and Joe got the gurney out of the back of the truck. “No hurry on this one, I guess. I heard he was going to Kent’s office.”

  “Yeah,” said Nancy. “The vic’s inside. And when you’re finished, we need some help carrying the gorilla.”

  “What gorilla?” asked Joe.

  “The one that’s asleep in the bathroom.”

  “You know, Nancy,” said Mike, “I love it up here in St. Germaine.”

  * * *

  It took all six of us to put Kokomo in the back of my truck. Nancy called Gwen Jackson, found out there was a cage available and told her we were on our way. Kent and Dr. Pelicane drove back to Boone to pack up the motor home and bring it over. When they left, Nancy and I got into my truck. Sergeant McCay and Burt Coley were going to follow us to Dr. Jackson’s to help unload Kokomo.

  “Hey boss,” said Nancy, once we’d pulled out of the parking lot. “Where does a five hundred pound gorilla sleep?”

  “We’ve gotta change our pants,” I answered.

  Chapter 12

  After we dropped a still sleeping Kokomo at Dr. Jackson’s place, I called the Slab and made arrangements for Noylene and Collette to meet me down at the station. I figured they knew what was going on and, if they weren’t directly involved, could at the very least give us some idea of what Brother Kilroy was up to. I had to drive Nancy back to the New Fellowship Baptist Church to pick up her motorcycle.

  “What a morning,” I said. “Why don’t you go home, change your clothes and then come on back here and see if you can find anything that might be helpful. Go over what’s left of the crime scene.”

  “It seems pretty cut and dried to me.”

  “Yeah, it does, but check it out anyway. That’s w
hy they pay us the big bucks. Let’s get in there before any church folks start going through his papers. Who knows what secrets Brother Kilroy was privy to?”

  “Will do.”

  * * *

  I met Noylene and Collette at the station, both of them as pale as Casper’s bedsheet. The grapevine in St. Germaine was as fast and effective as any other small town, and both women had already heard the news.

  “C’mon in,” I said, motioning them into my office. “I’ll bet you two can fill me in on a few missing details.”

  “I jes’ can’t believe it,” said Collette, barely containing her tears. “Brother Kilroy…gone.”

  “He was a good man,” said Noylene, dabbing at one eye with a handkerchief.

  “Sure,” I said. “Now tell me what happened. And don’t pretend you don’t know. I saw you two swapping glances the other afternoon.”

  The two women looked at each other for a long moment.

  “Well,” began Noylene finally. She stopped talking, then sighed and finally continued. “Well, Brother Kilroy and Rev. Garridos have been arguing about that gorilla for days. I never should have asked Kokomo if he loved Jesus.”

  “It warn’t your fault,” sniffed Collette. “You was jes’ trying to help that poor dumb creature.”

  “So Brother Kilroy felt…” I waited for Noylene to finish the sentence.

  “That Kokomo was intelligent, and if he accepted Jesus, he deserved to be saved,” finished Noylene. “But Rev. Garridos said that it was foolishness. That God’s grace was for humans and not for monkeys.”

  “So where is Rev. Garridos?”

  “He went back to Spain yesterday afternoon. His month was up.”

  “Okay. So tell me what happened.”

  “I don’t know for sure,” continued Noylene. “But I do know that Brother Kilroy had been going over to see Kokomo. Three or four times I think, I went with him once. He kept feeding Kokomo Milk Duds that he’d sneak in to the trailer.”

  “Did Brother Kilroy say anything to Kokomo while you were there with them?”

  “Well, sure. Brother Kilroy kept talking to him about Jesus. You know, turning away from sin and keeping love in your heart.”

  “Okay,” I said. “What happened last night?”

  Noylene looked over at Collette, and the younger girl broke down.

  “Oh, why? Why? Why? Why?” Collette blubbered.

  “I don’t know what happened for sure,” said Noylene. “Are we in trouble?”

  “Not yet,” I said, impatience creeping into my voice. “But you both may be soon if I don’t get some answers!”

  “Waahhhh,” sobbed Collette. “Brother Kilroy took Kokomo to baptize him,” she blurted out. “He said Kokomo deserved all of God’s Grace, and he couldn’t have it unless he was baptized a new creature in the Lord.”

  “So he went over to baby-sit Kokomo…” I said, once again leading the witness.

  Collette sniveled. “And when Dr. Pelicane went out, he took Kokomo out to his car and drove him over to the church. He said it would only take about an hour. The water was already in the pool, and all Brother Kilroy had to do was lead Kokomo into the pool and dunk him under the water.”

  “And the gorilla didn’t want to be dunked.”

  “I guess not,” Collette sniffed. “And now Brother Kilroy’s dead. Gone straight to heaven and into the waiting arms of Jesus.”

  “Did either of you have anything to do with taking the gorilla?” I asked. Both women shook their heads.

  “Brother Kilroy didn’t want any help. He said he could do this all by himself,” said Noylene. “I guess it was a good thing we weren’t there. That gorilla would have killed us all.”

  * * *

  It was late in the afternoon before I made it over to Kent Murphee’s office. We didn’t have a coroner in St. Germaine, and Kent covered all of Watauga County. He was sitting at his desk when I walked in, filling out reports, a pen in one hand and his pipe clenched tightly between his teeth. Kent was dressed in his usual attire—tweed jacket, vest and tie.

  “How about a drink?” asked Kent. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said, slumping into the chair opposite him. “Anything to report on the Kilroy case?”

  Kent pushed my drink across his desk. “Well, I can tell you the cause of death. He drowned.”

  “He drowned?”

  “That’s what killed him. Of course, he also had a broken neck, a four-inch laceration on his scalp and a subdural hematoma.”

  “So let me get this straight. He got whacked in the head, then broke his neck and laid in the water till he drowned?”

  “I’m pretty sure, although the order could have been different. There’s no real way to tell. He could have had his neck broken, then been whacked, and then drowned.”

  “But the drowning killed him?”

  “Yeah. He had water in his lungs.”

  “Wouldn’t the broken neck kill him?” I asked.

  Kent shook his head. “Not necessarily. I doubt that he was conscious though. The shot to his head was a doozy. It would have knocked him cold. That is to say, if his neck wasn’t already broken when it happened.”

  “So, it looks as though the gorilla is responsible.”

  “It’s not for me to say, but it appears to be the case. There weren’t any bruises on the body though. Just the one head injury and the broken neck.”

  “How’s Penelope doing?” I asked.

  “Not very well. She’s been on the phone all day explaining to her department head why the world’s most famous gorilla is now at the St. Germaine animal shelter.”

  “Has she moved her motor home over there yet?

  “She’s on the way, I think. I talked to her about an hour ago.”

  “I’ll go by and check on her when I get back to town.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” said Kent. “You know, gorillas usually don’t have a problem with water like chimps do. Kilroy probably would have been fine if he hadn’t tried to hold him under.”

  “No kidding.”

  * * *

  I got back in my truck and put a Muddy Waters CD into the changer. This had been a day I wouldn’t soon forget, and I was ready to listen to the blues. Not the blues written by a guy named Chad who’s girl-friend, Jennifer, died during a liposuction treatment, but the real thing—and Muddy was as real as it got.

  The meanest woman I most ever seen

  I asked for water. She brought me gasoline.

  By the time I had gotten back to St. Germaine, I felt a whole lot better. The Blues will do that for you. Meg and Pete were waiting for me at the Slab when I walked in. Meg had ordered me a burger, and it was delivered just as I sat down at the table.

  “What a deal!” I said. “I guess I missed lunch, but now supper is served. And no waiting, either.”

  “I called Kent,” said Meg, “and he said you were on your way back. So I went ahead and ordered for you.”

  “Great,” I said, sitting down and picking up my burger with both hands. I took a big bite.

  “Wait a minute,” said Pete. “Aren’t you going to tell us what happened at the Baptist Church? You’ve been running around all day, and all we have are rumors and conjecture. We need some answers.”

  “Yeah,” added Meg. “Answers.”

  “Mggrumph,” I said, swallowing hard. “Can’t talk…eating…”

  “Oh, you’ll talk, all right,” said Meg. “Or I’ll take that plate straight to the dishwasher.”

  “Okay, okay.” I grabbed another quick bite and chewed quickly. “Here’s what I know. Or what I assume, anyway.”

  “Brother Jimmy Kilroy is dead,” I started. “We found him this morning lying, face down, in the pool in his office.”

  “His pool?” said Pete.

  “It’s a pool, sure enough,” I said. “Maybe more like a spa. It was in his bathroom. You guys wouldn’t believe that place.”

  “We heard about it from Nancy,” Meg said. �
��She said she’d never seen anything like it.”

  “That’s for sure. Not in a church anyway,” I said. “Could I maybe have one of these French fries while I’m talking? Anyway, here’s how I figure it.”

  “Brother Kilroy decides that he needs to baptize Kokomo because he’s given his life to Jesus. Rev. Garridos disagrees, but he’s heading back to Spain so Brother Kilroy decides that the time is right. He’s been over to Penelope Pelicane’s trailer a few times since we visited, and Kokomo likes him, probably because he’s been sneaking him Milk Duds. Anyway, Dr. Pelicane’s getting ready to head down to South Carolina—USC, I think—and time’s running out. Still with me?”

  Meg and Pete both nodded. I ate another French fry.

  “So Brother Kilroy is over at the trailer visiting Kokomo—probably loading him up with Milk Duds on the sly—when Kent calls up and asks Penelope to go out. She says that she can’t go—that she has to stay and watch the gorilla, and this is the opening that Brother Kilroy’s been waiting for. He volunteers to babysit Kokomo for the evening. He tells Penelope that his wife’s out of town and to stay out as late as she likes. He’s going to take this opportunity to baptize Kokomo, and no one will be the wiser. This is more than a fortuitous event. This is Divine Intervention.”

  I grabbed another bite of my burger and continued.

  “Now, if Brother Kilroy’s a Presbyterian or a Methodist, a Lutheran or an Episcopalian, there’s no problem. If Kokomo needs to get baptized, Brother Kilroy could do it with a squirt gun if he had to. But he’s not. He’s a Baptist, and you’re not born again unless you go under for the count.”

  “Is that true?” asked Pete. “Sprinkling doesn’t count?”

  “Of course it counts,” said Meg. “For us, anyway. Baptists just think a little differently.” She looked back at me. “Continue, please.”

  I nodded. “So, Brother Kilroy figures he can do the baptism and get back to the trailer in a little over an hour. It should be pretty easy. It’s a twenty-minute drive to the New Fellowship Baptist Church, the baptism should only take a couple of minutes, and twenty minutes back. Penelope and Kent return after their night out, Kokomo is saved, and no one is the wiser.”