Free Requiem for Moses by William X. Kienzle Page A

to stay even before I started looking for a job.
    “Thank’s to Moe’s laying it all on the line, I didn’t waste any more time trying to be a dancer. I took stock of what I had to offer. I’m good looking—that’s not vanity, Father; that’s the truth.”
    “Honest humility is the truth,” Koesler said. “And I would second your assessment: You are good looking.”
    “And I’ll third it!” Stan Lacki was grinning.
    “So,” Claire continued, “I figured there was good money in waiting restaurants, if the tips were generous. After checking around, I settled on Carl’s Chop House. Lots of men go there. I counted on their appreciating a good-looking waitress. And I was right. That’s”—she smiled broadly—“where I met Stan.”
    “The guys at the station go there maybe once every week or two,” Lacki said. “Course I picked up on Claire right away.”
    “He was more than a real gentleman,” Claire said. “He was very respectful to me. And I needed that. I could joke with the guys at the restaurant, but it was just kidding. Whenever any of them started coming on to me, I’d cut ’em off at the pass. I’d just had it with sweet-talkers. Good old Moe Green cured me of falling for sweet talk. Stan was real mannerly.”
    “She’s a lady.”
    “So, anyway,” Claire went on, “about a year ago we started going out. Then we got serious and … well, we’ve been sort of engaged for the past five months. And, you know, Father …” She blushed again, then smiled and said firmly, “We wanted to wait awhile to get married—you know, to be sure?”
    Koesler nodded understandingly.
    “But then, a little while back, when we decided to plan our wedding … well, we ran into trouble. A lot of trouble, it turns out.”
    “Oh?” Koesler said. “You’re both Catholic, aren’t you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Either of you married before?”
    “No.”
    “You’re both entering this marriage freely?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then, I’m at a loss. What’s the problem?”
    “I’d say,” Lacki interjected, “the problem is the priest who was handling our marriage preparation.”
    “Oh? What’s his name?” Koesler asked.
    “He’s standing right back there—against the back wall,” Lacki said, pointing.
    “That’s Father Reichert!” Koesler was surprised.
    “Don’t we know it!” Lacki said.
    “But he’s retired,” Koesler said. “Why would he have anything to do with your marriage?”
    “We had no reason to question that,” Claire said. “Why shouldn’t he take care of marriages? He’s been a priest for tons of years, hasn’t he?”
    “Well, yes, but …” Koesler’s shook his head in puzzlement. “What did he do … as far as your wedding goes, I mean?”
    “Just told us we couldn’t get married,” Lacki said. “At least not in the Catholic Church. He said if we were determined to get married, we should look up some justice of the peace, or a judge or a minister.”
    “Why? What reason did he give you for denying a Catholic ceremony?”
    “He said,” Claire explained, “that the purpose of marriage is to have children and raise them Catholic. And that since I’d had a hysterectomy, we would never be able to have children—that every time we had intercourse, we would be making a mockery of marital love. That’s what he said. Then he told us to go away.”
    Koesler shook his head again. If Joe Btfsplk’s black cloud had been in the church, it would have been directly above Koesler.
    “Well, then, we got to thinking,” Lacki said. “This Dr. Green is such a … uh …” He seemed to be rejecting a series of colloquial epithets that were not fit for polite conversation, especially when the circle included a priest. “… such a rotten guy, that we wondered if he’d actually done what he said he did.”
    “You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Koesler said to Claire. “I mean, you’re either having periods or you’re not.”
    Claire was surprised that a celibate man would know