Pane and Suffering (22 page)

Chapter 29

 

“I
can't believe my dad thought that Reverend Kline was a threat.” Savannah rubbed absently at her arms. “No one else we know matches the words in this message, but how could it be him? How
could
it be him?”

Edward glanced at Amanda who was still studying the lettering on the whiteboard. He motioned to the revealed words. “Who else is tied to icons and the church?”

Savannah shook her head. “No one I know of, but I've been away for so long. He's a reverend. I've known him all my life.”

Amanda scowled. “He's human, right. Just because he's a reverend doesn't mean he isn't capable of murder.”

Savannah dealt with her shock by shaking her hands from the wrists. “I just don't understand it. What is he doing that needs to be covered up?”

“You've got to catch me up. I still don't understand the message.” Edward stepped over to the whiteboard and underlined the first word. “What does
icons
mean to you and why does it point to the reverend?”

Savannah relaxed her breathing and sat on one of the student stools. “The reverend has been collecting a category of religious artifacts called Russian icons.
Icons
. He's talked about them to me several times in the space of a few days so he's obviously very passionate about them. He says he had received the church council's approval to seek them out and purchase them.”

“What for?” Amanda scrunched her brow. “They're paintings, right? Just paintings. What's the big deal about religious paintings?”

Savannah rubbed her temples again. “I'm trying to remember what he said about them.”

Edward pointed to Amanda, then pressed his index finger up to his lips.
“Let her think,”
he mouthed without making a sound.

There was a long pause for several minutes while Savannah stared at the whiteboard sitting absolutely motionless. “He said that his personal mission was to ensure that they don't fall into the hands of private investors who”—she paused again—“will never let them fulfill their holy purpose as spiritual inspiration.”

“How does he find the icons?” asked Edward. “I've never even seen one.”

“They're quite small—a bit larger than an eight-by-ten photograph. They are simple yet beautiful. By that, I mean the subject matter is uncomplicated—no background to speak of—and the painting is usually on hard wood with a gold leaf border. If Jesus or Mary is one of the subjects, a gold-leafed halo would be painted on it, as well.”

Amanda shook her head. “I don't get why icons are in the message.”

“It's not clear to me either, but Dad obviously felt it was important. This is the clearest message he coded. It refers to objects that could be examined or prove something. So, I think this is the last message and the key message.”

“So we need to examine the icons and the books”—Edward pointed to the second message—“to find the proof we need.”

“There is a rotating collection at the church just behind the altar underneath the Rose stained glass window. I wonder . . .” Again, Savannah stared at the whiteboard for a long minute. “The reverend must have a nearby source.”

Edward sat on one of the student stools. “You know, he's been showing up in the Grand Central District more frequently these past few weeks. Do you—”

“Right!” Savannah snapped her fingers. “When he arrived early to pick up Jacob today, he said he would drop in at V and V Antiques.” She looked at her watch. “Are they still open?”

“I'll look. They're just across the street, you know.” Amanda sprinted to the front door of the shop. She grabbed the doorknob, turned her head, and yelled back, “The lights are still on.”

“Perfect,” said Savannah. “Let's go talk to the owner. He must know something about the reverend's collection.”

Amanda opened the door and swooped across the street.

“Wait, Amanda. Wait. I need to lock up. Catch her, Edward.”

He sped out the door. Savannah grabbed her backpack, quickly locked the front door, and followed them. She barely caught sight of the back of Edward entering a small collectibles shop almost directly across from Webb's.

She was only a minute or so behind them, but Amanda and Edward already had the little old shop owner trapped behind his desk all the way to the back of the store.

“. . . for the last several weeks?”

Savannah heard the last part of Amanda's question asked in a rush.

The shop owner replied, “Sure, Reverend Kline is a regular customer. He's here in the shop several times a week.”

“Good afternoon.” Edward extended his hand, which the shop owner stood up and shook. “I'm Edward Morris, owner of The Queen's Head Pub.” He motioned to Savannah. “This is Savannah Webb, new owner of Webb's Glass Shop and our impulsive chatterbox here”—he lowered his chin to stare pointedly at Amanda—“is Amanda Blake, Assistant Office Manager at Webb's Glass Shop.”

“Very pleased to welcome you back to the Grand Central District, Miss Webb.” The old man held her hand in both of his when he leaned over the desk to shake hands with Savannah. “I'm Vincent Stannous the proprietor of V and V Antiques. My sincere condolences on the death of your father.”

Amanda glared at them.

“Thank you for your kind words.” Savannah liked the gentle old soul who looked as if he had been born in this shop and would simply fade away into its eclectic collection of old paintings, vintage suitcases, and the bric-a-brac popular more than fifty years ago. “My father and I have been working with Reverend Kline on the church's stained glass for a long time and I was curious about what sort of objects he's collecting.”

“Oh yes. He's coming up on a milestone anniversary with the church, isn't he?”

“Yes, yes, that's it.” Savannah looked over to Edward and nodded. “His anniversary. We'd like to get something special in appreciation for sending so much work to Webb's Glass Shop.”

“That's very easy. He has a standing order to get a first look at any religious artifacts that originated in the Cold War period. He's especially fond of icons that can be traced to Communist Russia. I've also sent some families his way that want to deal with him and the church directly for their pieces.”

Amanda piped up. “Is that legal?”

“As is the case with most religious art, it depends. There's a lucrative black market for relics stolen during the last days of World War II. Many rural villages were stripped of their religious icons and laws now help with their repatriation.”

“How much are the lost icons worth?” asked Edward.

“Again, it depends.” Vincent spread his hands out like a book. “If it's an especially fine example or from a famous artist, it can run into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. The ones with a proper and legal provenance most typically sell in the neighborhood of five to ten thousand.”

The three of them looked at each other.

Savannah cleared her throat. “Thank you, Mr. Stannous. You have been very helpful. It's clear that a Russian icon would be quite a bit out of our budget. But you've given us some ideas. I think I know what to get Reverend Kline for his anniversary. We'll be back as soon as we collect a little more money.”

They made their way back to the shop and resettled themselves on the classroom stools in front of the whiteboard.

Amanda broke the silence. “I'm guessing that the icons the reverend is collecting would not be from the proper and legal provenance category.”

Savannah lowered her head. “I'm guessing you're absolutely right.”

“What does this mean?” Amanda picked up a dry erase marker and underlined the word
BOOKS
in the message.

“I'm not sure.” Savannah heaved a long deep sigh. “Given what we know about how important provenance is to a collector, it could mean documentation about the icons. But I'm really just guessing.”

Edward perked up. “It could be the actual proof we need.”

“Exactly. Dad was one of the deacons of the church and would have had access to financial statements and accounting data. He complained at one point that it seemed he was the only one interested in the numbers.”

“As a cipher specialist, he might have detected a pattern of expense that no one else would have the skills to notice.” Edward looked at Savannah, “Right?”

Savannah nodded. “The reverend would have known that any patterns would catch Dad's curiosity. In fact, he might have awarded the big duplication project to Webb's just to keep a close eye on Dad.”

“I agree,” said Edward. “Your dad did seem a little puzzled about that because Frank's bid was lower than Webb's.”

“And that would have turned on the paranoia,” said Savannah. “I think if we can find these illegal icons as well as the books, we could hand them over to the police. It should be enough to implicate the reverend. Both are apparently in the church.”

Amanda tossed the dry erase marker onto the whiteboard shelf. “Then what are we waiting for?”

“We have no choice.” Edward handed Savannah her backpack.

“If it is real,” said Savannah, “it will clear Jacob, but at the same time, be enough to arrest the reverend.”

Chapter 30

 

T
hey piled into Savannah's van and drove downtown to the church. Savannah parked about a block away and turned off the engine.

Edward asked. “Now what, guys?”

Savannah opened her door. “Let's see if we can get inside first.”

They got out of the van and stood on the sidewalk.

Edward winked at Savannah, then looked at Amanda. “Be absolutely silent.
Absolutely
.”

“Hey, you talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?” Amanda poked him in the arm. “Goof! I know how to be quiet. I just don't particularly
like
being quiet.”

They walked across the street to stand on the west side of the church.

Savannah whispered, “Let's stick together and check the side and back doors. They may be open. We don't want the reverend to see us.”

Having no luck with the west side door, they tried the back door only to find that it was locked, as well. They followed the circumference of the church and came around to the front and stood on the entrance steps.

“I see lights on, but it doesn't sound as if anything is going on inside,” said Edward.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Savannah walked up the front steps and pulled on the heavy entrance door. The left one didn't budge, but the right side door cracked open. “Shhhh.” She put her finger on her lips.

“I know, I know,” Amanda whispered under her breath as the three of them slipped into the entry alcove. It was dim, but not pitch black.

Standing a moment to adjust to the darkness, they saw that the doors to the main sanctuary were closed.

Savannah whispered, “I've never seen them closed before.” Edward tried one. It was locked. Amanda tried the other door and it was locked as well.

“Savannah,” said Edward quietly, “you know this place best. There must be quite a few ways into the sanctuary for the choir, the reverend, musicians, whatever. Which way should we go?”

“There's a stairway from the basement up to the choir loft, at least. Let's go this way.” Her voice was low and she pointed to the stairway down to the community room. “Slowly, slowly.”

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, it was pitch black. Not even the required public safety lighting was in evidence.

Amanda froze stiff in her tracks. “It's as dark as a cave down here. I'm not moving.”

“Okay, hang on just a second,” said Edward. “I have a torch.”

“You have a what?” Amanda gasped.

“Flashlight—I mean a flashlight.”

“Wait. That's a big problem,” whispered Savannah. “We don't want to get caught, remember?”

Edward clicked on a small switch and the flashlight beamed a soft red down the hallway. “This is my astronomy flashlight. It keeps me from losing my night vision so I can manage the controls on a telescope.”

“That's amazing! I need one of those for checking up on my mom. She's disturbed by any little bit of light and I'm even more disturbed by complete darkness.”

Savannah said, “Focus, guys. We need to keep going. Jacob is counting on us and I don't want him to spend the night in custody. I can't even begin to think of the emotional consequences.”

Edward moved the flashlight beam from side to side down the long corridor until they came to a stairway at the end. Savannah peeked up the staircase and could see reflected light at the top of the stairs. “There's some light up there. Must be the reverend's office. Let's go halfway up, then stop and listen. If he's typing or talking on the phone, I think we have a good chance of sneaking by.”

They stepped quietly up the stairs.

“But I need that one. It'll be lost forever if I can't get to it.” Reverend Kline's voice barreled down the hallway and the little posse halted stiff. Amanda started shaking.

Savannah leaned in very close to her friends. “Now that we know he's here. If he stays on the phone long enough, we're good. Try to stay at the far edge of the stairway, near the wall so a creaking board doesn't give us away.”

They slipped up the stairs and were just beyond the reverend's office to the left of the landing, when they heard, “I don't care how hard this is for you. Do you hear me? I don't care one whit. Just get it for me before sundown tomorrow. Or else!” They heard a loud crack of the phone receiver slammed onto the base and then silence.

As one, they froze into place like a game of red light-green light. After a few seconds, they could hear the reverend typing on his keyboard. Savannah signaled them to continue on up the stairway.

When they turned the corner, in front of them was the access way to the choir loft. They entered from the back row. Only dim nightlights plugged into random electrical sockets lit the church. It wasn't enough, so Edward used his red light and they cautiously felt their way down the loft levels until they reached the steep stairway that led to the part of the sanctuary where the reverend presided and the ceremonies occurred.

The altar was a large structure that reminded Savannah of a kitchen island without a marble countertop. It was draped in a heavy dark velvet fabric that fell to the floor.

Amanda circled the altar lifting the drape at each corner. “I don't see any cupboards for storing the icons.”

Savannah bent down to look at the altar sides. “It won't be obvious. Edward, shine the light at the corners to see if we can see an edge that is scratched or worn.”

Savannah and Amanda lifted the drape over each corner and Edward scanned the wooden edges slowly and carefully. It seemed to take an eon to do the first corner.

“Nothing,” whispered Edward and signaled for them to hold the drape on the second corner. After another slow search, he said, “Nothing.”

As they lifted the drapery on the third corner, Amanda breathed in a deep breath. “It's going to be the fourth corner. I feel it in my bones.”

Savannah felt that way as well.

“Nothing,” Edward said as he finished the third corner. He moved to the fourth corner after they lifted the drape.

An absolute age passed until finally came, “Nothing.”

Savannah dropped the drapery and stood behind the altar. “I don't understand. The message said the icons were in the altar.”

“No, it didn't.” Amanda spoke in a loud whisper.

“
Shhhhhhh,
” hissed Savannah and Edward.

Amanda crossed her arms in front of her ample chest “The message said the icons are
behind
the altar.”

“Fair point,” acknowledged Savannah.

They moved behind the altar to where a small antifatigue rug looked like it was there to help comfort the reverend as he performed the sacrament and delivered the sermon. Since he stood for the one-hour service each weekday morning and twice on Sunday, the added cushioning would make a difference if he were having hip and knee problems.

Amanda and Savannah quietly lifted the rug aside and Edward used his flashlight to scan the old wooden floor.

“Thank goodness.” He exhaled heavily. “Look at these small scratch marks on the floor.” He knelt down and fingered the scratched board and it wiggled loose so he picked it up. “That was way too easy. This has been used a lot.”

He continued to remove four more boards placing them on the worn rug in removal order. Savannah and Amanda sat down on the floor next to the small two-by-two-foot opening. Their heads bent down to see into the depths of the small pit. The flashlight revealed the edges of several thick packages wrapped in brown paper. Savannah tore at a corner until she revealed the contents. The tear in the paper exposed the golden edges of a gilded icon.

Savannah sat back on her heels. “I can't believe this. The reverend has framed Jacob to take the blame for this. Unbelievable.”

“But this doesn't mean anything for clearing Jacob,” said Amanda. “There's nothing to tie the reverend to the money trail.”

Edward began quietly replacing the panels.

Savannah handed him one of the boards and he quietly put it in the opening. “That's why the message had two parts.” She handed him each board and the opening disappeared. We now need to find the documentation that proves the reverend poisoned Hugh and Dad.”

They stood and moved the rug back to its original position.

Edward repeated the second clue, “Books in tower,” then turned to Savannah. “What does that mean? There's no tower in this church.”

“Right,” said Savannah, “but I remember when they were talking about finishing a tower for the church's centennial celebration a couple of years ago. Apparently, there were plans to include another tower when the church was first commissioned. The congregation ran out of money and that part of the church design was abandoned in the middle of construction. Same thing happened for the centennial.”

“What did they do?” asked Amanda.

“It was supposed to be several stories high and contain seven bells. The construction crew reworked the roof so that it looks like it was never there. You get to it by another staircase behind the choir loft. The tower hasn't been used for anything but storage for as long as I can remember.”

“What kind of storage?” asked Edward.

“Decorations for the major holidays like the life-sized figures of the nativity and the huge Christmas wreaths that hang on the chandeliers.” Savannah readjusted the rug so that it was perfectly lined up with the floorboards. “It's this way.”

They had just entered the choir loft and reached the last row when they heard steps coming from the reverend's office.

Edward froze, then took Amanda's elbow and Savannah's hand and pulled them behind the row of choir chairs. He whispered, “Just keep still.”

The click of the light switch was followed by a flickering burst of light into the sanctuary. Reverend Kline made his way to the altar and pulled over the mosaic rug. He quickly lifted the boards over the hidden cache and removed the paper-wrapped packages.

Amanda began to wiggle restlessly and Savannah glared at her as fiercely as an eagle ready to kill a rabbit. Trembling, Amanda pulled a tissue from one of her million pockets and pressed it firmly over her mouth and nose. Savannah's eyebrows raised sky high. A sneeze would reveal their presence.

Reverend Kline replaced the boards and rug, then carried the packages down the aisle toward the front door. He was halfway down when Amanda sneezed. Through her tissue and covered hands it sounded more like the rustle of a small mouse and that saved them.

The reverend muttered, “Rats. I hate rats.” He turned and headed out toward the front doors.

“That was close,” said Edward.

After the doors shut, Savannah stood up. “Someone needs to follow him and see where he's taking those packages.”

Amanda sniffled. “I could do that while you're getting the paperwork needed to clear Jacob.”

Savannah dug the van keys out of her little backpack. “Give us a call when you find out where he's going. Stay well behind him. Don't get into trouble.”

Edward said, “He's left the lights on so he's expecting to come back. Just try to figure out where he's storing them or who he's giving them to and then wait in the van for us in the parking lot. We'll be out as soon as we get the paper work.”

Amanda dashed down the aisle surprisingly silent and disappeared through the double doors of the church.

Edward grabbed Savannah's hand again. “Now, let's get this documentation before anything else gets in our way.” He started up the steep stairs behind the choir loft, holding her hand firmly.

She was surprised that she didn't protest or pull her hand out of his.
This is nice
.

When they got to the top of the stairs, they found a small light switch that lit a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. In front of them was a plain closet door with a small combination lock of the sort you put on luggage. It was hung through a small clasp and bracket just above the doorknob.

Savannah huffed in frustration. “Now what?”

“First, we'll try to guess the combination. If that doesn't work, we'll get some tools to remove the door.” He released her hand and squatted down in front of the lock. “Most people use three identical numbers so that it's easy to remember. I'll start with zero, zero, zero.”

Savannah rubbed the palm of her hand. “Let me hold your flashlight.”

He handed it back to her. “Good thinking.” He turned the numbers. “That didn't work. Onward up the numbers.”

As Savannah held the flashlight steady, Edward tried three ones, three twos, and three threes. “Oh wait, this may work.” He tried three sixes, but the lock held. “Yeah, that might have been a bit too lame.” He continued the series through to three nines. “Well, no luck with that. Oh, one more.” He tried 123 with no luck.

Savannah said, “What's the address here? A lot of people use their street number.”

“It's on the front of the church. It's 3 4 2.” He dialed the number and the lock opened.

“That's just too simple. Why would he choose that?”

Edward just shook his head slowly from side to side. “It's easy to remember.” He removed the lock, then opened the closet door. They stood in the doorway and looked into an awkward sort of walk-in closet with the light of the moon shining through a window in the roof.

He groped inside the wall for a light switch and another bare bulb lit the room with a weak yellow tint. He stepped into the room and moved to the left to allow Savannah to enter.