Free Man Who Loved God by William X. Kienzle Page A

Joel Groggins had told him during their oddly uninterrupted conversation.
    If he hadn’t done so already, very shortly Adams would select a manager for the special branch that in a day or so would become a reality.
    Probably that manager would be Nancy Groggins. Before the dinner, Adams had told Father Tully that she was his personal favorite for the position. Adams had asked the priest for his opinion. After briefly meeting with both candidates and after all Jack Groggins had said, the priest could not disagree with Adams’s choice.
    Apparently, that meant that eventually, Nancy Groggins would be up for another advancement. And that was spelled executive vice president. Which meant that one of the three present executive vice presidents would be seeking other employment.
    Odds were that the one to be axed would be Lou Durocher, who was named to his present status because … well, who knew? Because Adams was trying to follow Scripture in very tangible ways? Because some pop psych cult somehow influenced the move?
    In any case, there was practical doubt that the seemingly obvious move would be made.
    That meant that one of two very capable employees would be bumped.
    How would Jack Fradet react if he turned out to be the sacrificial lamb?
    After Tom Adams, Fradet knew the status of the bank better than probably anyone else. What sort of damage would he likely do? Could he do? Father Tully had a gut feeling that the possessor of such intimate and comprehensive knowledge could cause serious, maybe fatal, damage. And to be dismissed from his position while the obvious weak link went blithely on playing hob with mortgage and lending would guarantee an angry and bitter former executive VP.
    And if the bumpee turned out to be Marty Whitston?
    Father Tully recalled Joel Groggins’s response to this possibility. Tully had supposed that Whitston would be “crushed.” Whereas Groggins had reversed the verb’s voice to predict that Whitston would be the one doing the crushing.
    Were Tom Adams to let Lou Durocher go, the CEO would have to admit that his grand experiment in human motivation had failed.
    Should he dismiss either Whitston or Fradet, Adams would expose his bank to its possible destruction.
    There was no real winner in such a choice.
    But never once did it occur to Father Tully that in this vicious circle lurked the possibility of violence—or even murder.
     
    The players in this drama, at least four of them, were not presently contemplating the new branch or its logical consequences. They were much more absorbed with the notes they’d received this evening.
    Of the two threats, one engendered by a new branch bank, the other from Barbara Ulrich, the latter was by far the more imminent.
    Noting that no one was presently conversing with the host, Father Tully approached Adams, thanked him for a lovely evening, and affirmed Adams’s choice of manager: Nancy Groggins was sure to do well.
    Adams seemed far too preoccupied to more than abstractedly shake hands and bid the priest farewell.
    If Adams had any plans for Father Tully during the remainder of the priest’s stay in Detroit, there was no mention of anything of the sort. Nor was there another word said about the choice of manager for the new branch.
    Finally, Father Tully realized that he would have to locate his chauffeur on his own or call a cab. Fortunately, the attentive chauffeur found him.
    And thus ended an evening filled with unexpected events. It was, as Joel Groggins had implied, a prime time soap opera.
    How, Father Tully wondered, would it all end?

Eight
    It was a pleasant late afternoon in Detroit.
    Waiting for his sister-in-law to pick him up, Father Tully decided a little exercise was in order. Thus, he paced up and down the corner of Jay and Orleans next to St. Joe’s rectory.
    After last night’s award-winning confusion, this had been a pleasant and relaxing day.
    Tom Adams had not made any contact. Father Tully had expected a call. He thought