unnoticed.
Esteban was gorgeous in a coat of some strange woolen
brocade that looked almost baroque, though he was too scarred and tanned to
pass as a nobleman. Raphael was the noble lord, Esteban the battle-scarred
knight.
Harrison, dressed entirely in unrelieved black, approached
the podium and made a brief announcement about Holtz’s death. He handled the
matter with dispatch and dignity. Juliet looked to the brother sitting in the
front row by Darby. He was heavier than the dead man, but the resemblance was
there and she realized that she had seen him in the lobby of the hotel amongst
the other Buchanans and also in the restaurant the
night before.
An organ thundered to life, and incense filled the air
though there were discreet fans to keep the smoke away from the singers and
musicians. The state’s smoking law obviously didn’t apply to holy smoke let
loose in churches.
The crowd hushed. The tenor stepped forward. He looked
confident. No one would guess that he had assumed the lead only days before.
“ Requiem aeternam dona eis , Domine , ” he sang. Grant them eternal rest, O
Lord.
His was not a
stand-and-deliver kind of voice, but a nuanced and gentle performance. Juliet
wondered how much better the dead man could have been for Harrison to have
chosen him over this boy and, for the first time, felt a moment of mourning for
the man who died that was specific to Jeremiah Holtz—his gifts and his life—and
not just a John Donne no man is an island and every death diminishes me kind of
a thing.
Juliet tried for
more pious thoughts but found herself scanning the
audience, wondering if the killer was there. And if so, why? Did he expect to pass off his prize to someone—assuming he had found it? This
wouldn’t be a bad place for an exchange.
There was a block
of Buchanans , looking for once very sober even in
their bright kilts. Ranger Nyland was in the audience
along with Captain Denver. Both men were in suits, though not from England or
Italy. The detective was seated right behind Christopher Columbus and two of
his satellites, one of whom had been near the concierge’s desk when she was
asking directions to the trail, and the other the man who had taken a long hard
look at her and Esteban the night before.
Orbiter three was
probably off guarding the car, making sure no one with a sgian dubh or a nuclear device slipped inside
it during the performance. She doubted very much that Columbus had killed
anyone himself, but it was not beyond the realm of the possible that one of the
satellites had gotten overzealous and ended up killing the tenor before he
revealed the whereabouts of … whatever.
And it was for a something . For a physical thing , she was sure, not an intangible reason or emotion or esoteric knowledge. Not for vengeance or love gone wrong
or any of the messy passions that could lead to murder—though of course
sticking a knife in someone had to lead to all kinds of feelings. Someone in
the audience had to be feeling how macabre it all was, to be at this funeral,
even if it wasn’t for the man they had killed. If they were religious, they
might even be fearing for their soul.
“… ad te omnis caro veniet . ” To You all flesh
shall come.
The brother,
Joshua, was weeping, his head bent, a handkerchief to his eyes. Columbus and
his satellites watched him. Juliet could only see them in partial profile, but
they didn’t look overcome with compassion for his loss and she was sure Denver
was also making note of this.
“ Kyrie, eleison ; Christe , eleison ; Kyrie, eleison . ” God, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; God, have mercy.
Juliet wasn’t
alone in her scrutiny of the assembled. Esteban and Raphael were also less
attentive to the singers than the rest of the audience who were beginning to
tear up at the soprano’s Pie Jesu .
Or perhaps it was
partially the incense. Juliet was suddenly feeling a bit dizzy and wanted out
of the smoke and used air. She wasn’t used to being in
Esteban was gorgeous in a coat of some strange woolen
brocade that looked almost baroque, though he was too scarred and tanned to
pass as a nobleman. Raphael was the noble lord, Esteban the battle-scarred
knight.
Harrison, dressed entirely in unrelieved black, approached
the podium and made a brief announcement about Holtz’s death. He handled the
matter with dispatch and dignity. Juliet looked to the brother sitting in the
front row by Darby. He was heavier than the dead man, but the resemblance was
there and she realized that she had seen him in the lobby of the hotel amongst
the other Buchanans and also in the restaurant the
night before.
An organ thundered to life, and incense filled the air
though there were discreet fans to keep the smoke away from the singers and
musicians. The state’s smoking law obviously didn’t apply to holy smoke let
loose in churches.
The crowd hushed. The tenor stepped forward. He looked
confident. No one would guess that he had assumed the lead only days before.
“ Requiem aeternam dona eis , Domine , ” he sang. Grant them eternal rest, O
Lord.
His was not a
stand-and-deliver kind of voice, but a nuanced and gentle performance. Juliet
wondered how much better the dead man could have been for Harrison to have
chosen him over this boy and, for the first time, felt a moment of mourning for
the man who died that was specific to Jeremiah Holtz—his gifts and his life—and
not just a John Donne no man is an island and every death diminishes me kind of
a thing.
Juliet tried for
more pious thoughts but found herself scanning the
audience, wondering if the killer was there. And if so, why? Did he expect to pass off his prize to someone—assuming he had found it? This
wouldn’t be a bad place for an exchange.
There was a block
of Buchanans , looking for once very sober even in
their bright kilts. Ranger Nyland was in the audience
along with Captain Denver. Both men were in suits, though not from England or
Italy. The detective was seated right behind Christopher Columbus and two of
his satellites, one of whom had been near the concierge’s desk when she was
asking directions to the trail, and the other the man who had taken a long hard
look at her and Esteban the night before.
Orbiter three was
probably off guarding the car, making sure no one with a sgian dubh or a nuclear device slipped inside
it during the performance. She doubted very much that Columbus had killed
anyone himself, but it was not beyond the realm of the possible that one of the
satellites had gotten overzealous and ended up killing the tenor before he
revealed the whereabouts of … whatever.
And it was for a something . For a physical thing , she was sure, not an intangible reason or emotion or esoteric knowledge. Not for vengeance or love gone wrong
or any of the messy passions that could lead to murder—though of course
sticking a knife in someone had to lead to all kinds of feelings. Someone in
the audience had to be feeling how macabre it all was, to be at this funeral,
even if it wasn’t for the man they had killed. If they were religious, they
might even be fearing for their soul.
“… ad te omnis caro veniet . ” To You all flesh
shall come.
The brother,
Joshua, was weeping, his head bent, a handkerchief to his eyes. Columbus and
his satellites watched him. Juliet could only see them in partial profile, but
they didn’t look overcome with compassion for his loss and she was sure Denver
was also making note of this.
“ Kyrie, eleison ; Christe , eleison ; Kyrie, eleison . ” God, have mercy; Christ, have mercy; God, have mercy.
Juliet wasn’t
alone in her scrutiny of the assembled. Esteban and Raphael were also less
attentive to the singers than the rest of the audience who were beginning to
tear up at the soprano’s Pie Jesu .
Or perhaps it was
partially the incense. Juliet was suddenly feeling a bit dizzy and wanted out
of the smoke and used air. She wasn’t used to being in
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