What the Fly Saw

by Frankie Y. Bailey

  Baxter said, “We’re being thorough, Doc. Just making sure nothing turned up in his body that shouldn’t have been there.”

  “Oh, yes, of course.”

  McCabe said, “Speaking of how Mr. Novak died. Olive Cooper mentioned the church’s two archery clubs.”

  “Yes,” Burdett said. “I’m sorry. Did both Daniel and I forget to mention the archery clubs when you asked us about activities Kevin was involved in at church?”

  “Yeah, you did,” Baxter said. “All those members with bows must have slipped you and the reverend’s minds.”

  “Hardly that many, Detective Baxter. Or, at least, I have no idea who attending church services may own a bow. After all, we are in upstate New York, and hunting is a popular activity. But the clubs are relatively new. There are still only about twenty-five members in the archery club for teenagers, and about that same number in the club for adults. And in those two groups, only about half attends any given meeting or event.”

  “Good,” Baxter said. “That will make it easier if we have to talk to them.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Burdett said. “You certainly don’t intend to harass innocent people, including teenagers—”

  “We don’t intend to harass anyone, Dr. Burdett,” McCabe said. “We were simply curious about why neither you nor Reverend Wyatt mentioned the existence of the clubs to us.”

  “As I said—speaking for myself and, I’m sure, for Daniel—we forgot. We were in shock over Kevin’s death. The matter of the clubs slipped our minds.”

  “Even when we asked you about Kevin’s activities at the church?” Baxter said. “Yeah, I guess you were in shock.”

  McCabe said, “No harm done, Dr. Burdett. Luckily, Ms. Cooper thought to mention the clubs when we spoke to her.”

  “I’m sure Olive didn’t suggest that anyone who belonged to—”

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that,” McCabe said. “Ms. Cooper was explaining to Detective Baxter and me about the difference between recurve bows and compound bows and how someone inexperienced with a bow might not even know how to shoot it. And she mentioned in passing that Mr. Novak had belonged to the church archery club.”

  “We did ask her if you and Reverend Wyatt are hunters,” Baxter said. “And she said no, you just liked to do target practice and sometimes worked with the teenage archery club.”

  Burdett said, “And what did you make of that?”

  “Not a thing, Doc,” Baxter said. “Should we have made something of it?”

  “My patient is waiting,” Burdett said. “If there is nothing else…”

  “No, that’s all for now,” McCabe replied. “Thank you for taking the time to speak to us, Dr. Burdett. And please forgive us if we’ve upset you. We were just curious about whether you had any thoughts about the members of the archery clubs.”

  “I’ve told you my thoughts. You’re wasting your time if you intend to pursue this line of investigation.”

  “Exactly what we needed to know,” McCabe said. “We’ll let you go now.”

  “Good day,” Burdett said. The monitor went blank as he ended the transmission.

  “Couldn’t resist ruffling his tail feathers, could you?” McCabe said to her partner.

  Baxter leaned back in his chair and whirled around. “You were the one who implied we were wondering about why he and the reverend didn’t mention the archery clubs.”

  “And his answer was he and Wyatt were just so shocked by what had happened that it slipped their minds.”

  “Uh-huh,” Baxter said. “Guess an eighty-five-year-old woman was better at keeping her composure and remembering what she should tell us than the two of them.”

  “To be fair,” McCabe said, “they had been dealing with Sarah Novak and trying to help her cope. And they knew Scott had gone to pick up his sister. Their minds might have been on Kevin’s wife and children.”

  “Or their minds might have been on what they were whispering about when we walked into the kitchen.”

  “There is that possibility,” McCabe said. “Whatever was going on, when someone claims he ‘forgot’ to mention something … I would have found it more believable if he had said he and Reverend Wyatt hadn’t wanted to have the members of the archery clubs dragged into a murder investigation.”

  “Right at the end, he did say he was sure none of the club members were involved. But he was still claiming he and Wyatt had just forgotten they should mention the clubs.”

  “And that’s where he lost me,” McCabe said. “That, and the fact that toward the end of our conversation, he was getting hostile. Either you were really irritating him, or we were making him nervous about something.”

  McCabe pulled up the Web on her ORB, searching for the New Awakening Church. She found the site and sent it to the wall.

  “What are we looking for?” Baxter asked. “The next archery club meeting?”

  “I would think they’d cancel any meeting they have coming up until after Kevin Novak’s funeral. But we can see what’s on the church schedule, and then check in with Reverend Wyatt.”

  “About what, pray tell?”

  “About whether he would mind if we dropped by. Just a couple more questions we’d like to ask. Of course, one of the questions could be about getting the member lists for the archery clubs.”

  * * *

  “Rising majestically from a grove of trees…” McCabe said.

  They were trudging across the parking lot toward the church.

  “Looks even flashier than it did in the hologram,” Baxter said.

  “With that much glass and that large a cross … but it is impressive.”

  “We should have driven in and looked for that underground parking lot.”

  “It’s probably full, and, besides, we can use the exercise. And now we know firsthand why they need ‘traffic coordinators’ on Sunday to help people park their cars and board the shuttles to the church. No parking close to church even on a weekday. I guess they really do have people attending all those events we saw on the church calendar.”

  “That explains why our vic was on a committee to consider the parking problem.”

  “But we’ve been assured that had nothing at all to do with his murder,” McCabe said.

  They reached the church and entered through two massive wooden doors. Baxter stopped and glanced around the empty space of the lobby. “I guess the architect and the interior designer forgot to compare notes.”

  “Definitely,” McCabe said. “This is much better.”

  Winter sunlight poured from above, washing over white walls. On the walls, carefully spaced Impressionist watercolors of nature scenes. On the floor, interlocking blue and green tiles that gleamed in spite of what must be heavy foot traffic.

  They followed the sign directing them down a hall to the administrative offices.

  The young woman at the reception desk glanced up and gave them a megawatt smile. “Hello, how are you today?”

  “Terrific,” Baxter said. “How are you?”

  The young woman blinked at the dazzling smile Baxter was giving her.

  McCabe said, “We’re here to see Reverend Wyatt, please. I’m Detective McCabe, and this is my partner, Detective Baxter.”

  “But you can call me Mike,” Baxter said.

  The young woman stood up. “Thank you, Detective Baxter, but I always try to be respectful to my elders. I’ll see if Reverend Wyatt is available, Detective McCabe.”

  She disappeared down a hallway lined with open office doors.

  Baxter gave an exaggerated groan. “‘My elders,’ the woman said.”

  “She looks about twenty-two or -three,” McCabe said. “That would make you her elder by at least seven years. You did have a birthday back in November.”

  The young woman came back to the end of the hallway and gestured to them. “Please come this way.” She escorted the detectives into a conference room and invited them to make themselves comfortable. “Reverend Wyatt will be w
ith you in a moment,” the young woman said.

  Baxter sat down at the table and nodded at the wall and its static image. “Sunday morning,” he said.

  On the wall, a choir in white robes stood on a stage, voices raised in song. Standing by his pulpit in a royal-blue clerical robe, Reverend Wyatt had turned toward the choir. In the background, worshipers filled the stadium-style seating.

  McCabe said, “We should ask for a tour of the place.”

  “I’d be happy to show you around,” Wyatt said from the doorway.

  “Thank you,” McCabe said. “That’s not why we dropped by—and we do apologize for not calling first—but if you do have time for a tour…”

  “Of course. I can certainly spare the time. But why are you here? More questions about Kevin?”

  “We’re hoping we can get a copy of the membership lists for the church’s archery clubs,” McCabe said.

  “The membership lists?” Wyatt blinked rapidly. “I don’t understand.”

  “We thought Dr. Burdett might have given you a heads-up about that,” Baxter said. “We talked to him an hour ago.”

  Wyatt said, “I’ve been in meetings all morning. I haven’t heard from Jonathan. Are you saying he suggested you ask me for the membership lists?”

  “We were talking to Dr. Burdett about something else when the clubs came up,” McCabe said. “Olive Cooper had told us the church has archery clubs. We wondered why neither you nor Dr. Burdett had mentioned that.”

  Wyatt frowned. He glanced at the wall on which his Sunday church service was displayed. “What did Jonathan say?”

  “He said the two of you had forgotten to tell us.”

  Wyatt looked even more uncomfortable. “I’m afraid Jonathan was doing his best to cover for me. When we were out in the kitchen, I expressed my concern that suspicion might fall on the members of the adult archery club because Kevin was killed with a bow.”

  “So that occurred to you even before you’d talked to us?” Baxter asked.

  “I— It was an obvious thought,” Wyatt said.

  “But you assured us that none of your church members would have a reason to harm Mr. Novak,” McCabe said.

  “Yes, but police—in crime shows—detectives always look at how someone was killed.”

  McCabe said, “And so you thought it would be best if you and Dr. Burdett didn’t mention the archery clubs?”

  “We didn’t get that far in our discussion. But later, after you had gone, we realized neither one of us had told you.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It was an error in judgment.”

  “Anything else you haven’t told us?” Baxter asked.

  Wyatt flushed and looked away and then did his best to muster an affronted expression. “I’m not in the habit of lying, Detective Baxter.”

  That was good, McCabe thought, because he was really rotten at it. She said, “We’re sure you aren’t in the habit of lying, Reverend Wyatt. But is there anything else … any other information … that you’ve withheld because of concern about the welfare of your church members or someone else?”

  He stared at her. “I…” He rubbed his hand across his mouth. “No, there isn’t anything else.”

  “If there were,” McCabe said, “what you ought to keep in mind is that we are good at our job. We usually find out what people are trying to hide.”

  Wyatt drew himself up. “If you are trying to intimidate me, Detective McCabe—”

  “Not at all. I’m simply stating a fact. It makes everybody’s life a lot easier when the people we talk to answer our questions truthfully. We don’t deliberately harass innocent people. We don’t try to arrest people who haven’t committed crimes.”

  “Are you saying, ‘Trust us and everything will be fine’?”

  “Maybe not fine. But a lot less likely to get complicated.”

  “I … I need to think about something that could affect a number of people.”

  Baxter said, “If one of those people might have killed Kevin Novak, you’d better think about whether you might be next.”

  “Detective Baxter is right, Reverend Wyatt. If you have knowledge that could implicate someone, you should tell us.”

  “I don’t know who killed Kevin. If I knew that, I would tell you. I just need to think about this some more.” He sighed. “Think and pray.”

  Baxter said, “Does Dr. Burdett know whatever it is you need to pray about?”

  “No, he— No, he doesn’t know.”

  Or at least, McCabe thought, Wyatt hoped he didn’t know and was now wondering.

  “About the membership lists…” she said.

  “Is that really necessary? I promise—you have my assurance, that none of the members of the archery clubs were involved in Kevin’s death.”

  “So you don’t know who killed Kevin,” Baxter said, “but you can assure us none of the—”

  “I know my church members,” Wyatt said.

  “Given the number of church members you have,” McCabe said, “it’s a little difficult to believe—”

  “I meant I know the people in the archery clubs. I’ve spent considerable time with all of them. They all liked and respected Kevin. None of them had reason to kill him. None of them is capable of murder.”

  McCabe nodded. “But we’d still like the membership lists, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  “You’re going to talk to the teenagers, too?”

  “We’d like to see both lists. We’ll begin with the adults and then perhaps talk to the teenagers as a group. In that case, we’ll ask you and any parents who would like to be present to join us. Is that a reasonable approach?”

  “Yes. Yes, thank you. Let’s go out to the reception desk and I’ll get Jessica to pull up the lists. And then I’ll give you that tour I offered.”

  “Thank you, we’d like to see your church.”

  “I want to do whatever I can to correct any misconceptions you may have about our church.”

  “About that Web conference you had on the afternoon of Olive Cooper’s party,” Baxter said, “rumor has it you’re about to take the church big-time.”

  “If you mean that I’m about to expand beyond the Capital Region and my Web outreach, then, yes, that’s true.”

  “Bad timing having a member of your flock murdered right now,” Baxter said.

  Wyatt turned and looked at him. “Having a member of my flock murdered at any time would be bad,” he said. “If you are implying that I might be concerned about the negative press, yes, I am concerned about that. The sponsor for the arena events we have scheduled is the owner of a chain of family restaurants. We have a contract, but that contract has a morality clause that he will implement if there is any hint of scandal involving this church.” Wyatt paused. “So, yes, I would rather this were not happening now. But what I wish even more is that a man I respected and cared about hadn’t been murdered.” He gestured toward the conference room door. “Shall we go?”

  “After you, Reverend,” Baxter said.

  Baxter’s expression was a little sheepish when he glanced in McCabe’s direction. Dignity trumps wisecrack, she thought.

  They stopped at the reception desk for the club membership lists. Then Wyatt led them back out into the lobby and in the direction of voices and activity.

  “The gymnasium,” he said, opening a door.

  Inside, two teams of men were playing basketball.

  “The exercise facilities are available to our members from six A.M. to midnight every day except Sunday,” Wyatt said.

  The rest of the tour included a stop at the church library, a recreation room, the kitchen, an adjoining cafeteria. Meeting rooms. Out a side door to visit the greenhouse and admire the gardens. Then Wyatt led them back inside. “I saved the sanctuary for last,” he said.

  They entered at floor level, near the stage.

  McCabe said, “This must seem a long way from the storefront where you started your church, Reverend Wyatt.”

  Wyatt nodded, gazing up at the rows
of seats, the monitors that allowed those in the back rows to have a close-up view of the service. “A very long way.”

  “Is this where you’re going to perform Kevin Novak’s funeral service?”

  “No, we have a smaller, more intimate space we’ll use.”

  “It is possible that we’ll be at the funeral,” McCabe said.

  Wyatt frowned. “Is that necessary?”

  “We might see something useful,” Baxter said.

  “Mrs. Novak has given her permission for us to attend and view the service from another room on cam,” McCabe said.

  “You mean spy on the mourners?”

  “Spy is rather a harsh word, Reverend Wyatt. If we attend the funeral, we’ll be doing our job. Has it been scheduled?”

  “Kevin’s funeral is tomorrow afternoon. The wake is tonight. Are you—do you intend to come to that, too?”

  “No,” McCabe said. “But we would like to attend the service tomorrow.”

  “If Sarah has given her permission … did she tell you that it’s a private service? You— Unless Kevin was killed by someone who would be invited to his funeral service, you’ll be wasting your time.”

  “Possibly,” McCabe said. “But Megan did ask us to attend.”

  “Are you saying that Megan thinks someone her father knew—”

  “Megan watches crime shows, too,” Baxter said. “She knows that most people are killed by someone they know.”

  Wyatt stared at him. “I don’t think that is true in this case.”

  “Why don’t you think that, Reverend Wyatt?” McCabe asked.

  “I—I just don’t think—but, of course, if Sarah has said you may attend the funeral service, I won’t object.”

  But he still looked unhappy that they were going to be there, McCabe thought. And he was still choking on whatever it was he hadn’t told them.

  24

  Back at the station house, they decided to have Research run the names on the membership lists they had gotten from Wyatt. That would tell them if anyone on the lists had priors, particularly any history of violence.