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“Then we better start taking our rehearsals a little more seriously. We don’t want to look like fools when the big moment comes and we’re standing in front of that audience.”

There was a lot I could have said to that, but I decided not to. Sometimes the best thing is simply to let cats enjoy these moments until their dreams collide with reality.

Then again, maybe we would be a smash hit. Who knows? After all, only a small percentage of the park’s neighbors ever throw shoes in our direction. So maybe that silent majority are actually rabid cat choir fans? Or maybe they’ve run out of shoes.

24

Our next port of call was, of course, St. John’s Church, where Odelia set a course the moment we put her in the possession of Buster’s story of the surreptitious priest.

“I still can’t believe Father Reilly wouldn’t simply tell me,” said Odelia as she pushed her way through the tall oak door and entered the heart of the impressive structure.

“Maybe he thought you wouldn’t believe him?” I ventured.

“Why wouldn’t I believe him, Max? No, obviously he knows something but is afraid to tell me. Which can only mean one thing.” She cocked a meaningful glance in my direction.

I immediately caught her drift.“Confession,” I said with knowing nod.

“Confession?” asked Dooley as we trot through the church in search of the priest.

“If a person confesses something to a priest, the latter isn’t allowed to tell another living soul,” I explained. “The confession has to stay between himself and the confessor. So maybe someone told Father Reilly something during confession, and now he’s finding himself in the impossibility to talk about it without breaking the seal of confession.”

“That’s annoying,” said Dooley. “What if someone confesses that they hid a treasure under their kitchen floor and after they die Father Reilly would like to tell the person’s relatives and he’s not allowed to?”

“I think that’s a very unlikely scenario, Dooley,” I said.

“It could happen.”

“Theoretically, I’m sure it could.”

“Of course Father Reilly could dig up that treasure himself and then sell it and anonymously slip an envelope of cash into the relative’s mailbox, like he did with Odelia.”

I smiled.“You have a powerful imagination, Dooley.”

We’d arrived at the back of the church, and Odelia searched around for the priest, but found the woman who removes the burnt-out candles instead, who directed us to Father Reilly’s office. She knocked on the wooden door, and a disembodied voice bid us entry.

When Father Reilly saw who’d come to pay him a visit, he put down the sheaf of papers he’d been examining—probably next Sunday’s sermon—took off his glasses to let them dangle from his neck, and had the decency to blush.

“Odelia!” he said, but his expression belied the joviality of his tone. This was a man who wasn’t happy to see us.

“You put this note in my mailbox this morning,” she said, and produced said note and placed it in front of the man of God.

“I’m sure I didn’t,” he sputtered as he pushed the note away, as if it was hot to the touch.

“Yes, you did,” said Odelia. “Someone saw you, and they said you did your best to look inconspicuous. In fact you tried so hard to look inconspicuous that you became conspicuous.”

Father Reilly closed his eyes.“Oh, dear.”

“You’d make a terrible, terrible spy, Father.”

He smiled.“I would, wouldn’t I?”

“So what’s this all about?” asked Odelia as she took a seat in front of the man’s sizable mahogany desk. “Why are you convinced Raban Pacoccha killed Neda Hoeppner?”

Father Reilly folded his hands on his desk blotter, which showed a nice depiction of the Virgin Mary with child, beatifically gazing up at the blotter user. Father Reilly cast a quick glance at the blotter, as if to draw strength from the touching scene, then steeled himself and said,“Nothing I tell you can leave this room, Odelia. Is that understood?”

“Of course,” she said immediately.

“I think she’s lying, Max,” said Dooley, eyeing our human closely.

“What do you mean?”

“See how she’s bouncing her leg? Whenever Odelia is nervous she bounces her leg. She’s also fidgeting. Also a sign she’s nervous. So I think she’s probably lying right now.”

My friend was right. Odelia was fidgeting. And bouncing her leg.“So she’ll probably tell Chase whatever Father Reilly is about to tell her,” I said. “That’s not so bad, is it?”

“But she’s lying to a priest, Max. She’ll be struck down by the wrath of God!”

“I very much doubt whether God is interested in Odelia’s little fib,” I told him.

The door behind us had opened, and Shanille came trotting in.“Oh, hey, Max—Dooley.” She stifled a yawn, indicating she’d just had a nice refreshing nap somewhere in the bowels of the church—or possibly in Father Reilly’s private residence, which was located right next door. “Are you here to talk about the concert?” Clearly the concert was at the forefront of her mind and not on the back burner, as was the case with yours truly.

“Um… sure,” I said, not to upset her.

“Max!” said Dooley. “You’re lying, too!”