Murder of a Creped Suzette

Once the priest was introduced to Toby, and Skye and Wally were seated on leather wing chairs facing the desk, Father Burns said, “I understand you have a question about your annulment, Wally.”

“Yes. Something unusual has come up.” Wally explained the situation with Darleen in a neutral voice, but his jaw tightened when he asked, “Would a letter like that slow down the annulment or prevent it altogether?”

“Since it would clearly be a document written to punish Wally for not giving her money and would, in fact, contain blatant lies, would it even be considered, Father ?” Skye took Wally’s hand and squeezed it.

“I’m afraid so.” His ageless face was grave. “Although, with corroboration from other witnesses that the document was spurious, it would only delay the process, not halt it completely.”

“In other words”—Wally narrowed his eyes—“it would be best if an untruthful letter was never written?”

“Yes, better to have no input from your ex-wife than one that differs from your view of the marriage.” Father Burns sat motionlessly, his gaunt body ramrod straight. “Not that I’m advocating paying Mrs. Boyd or her companion in order to accomplish that goal.”

“Of course not, Father.” Skye reached down and stroked Toby. “That would be wrong.”

“But,” Wally said, without looking at Skye, “if things turn out badly, we may need to reconsider our decision to wait for an annulment before marrying.”

Father Burns was silent for a moment, his dark, serious eyes studying them; then he said, “As I explained the last time we met, the Church’s stance is that matrimony is both binding and lifelong. The annulment procedure is used to determine if an essential element, which prevented the sacramental union promised, was missing when the couple entered into the marriage.”

“Understood,” Wally acknowledged. “But since Darleen left me for another man, we should have that covered—with or without any comment from her.”

“It will help.” Father Burns fingered the Bible in front of him. “Although what you really need to prove is that you had prior knowledge that there was a missing element or something was fundamentally wrong right from the very beginning of your marriage.”

“Okay.” Wally didn’t hesitate. “I advised you the last time we were here that I wanted to back out of my marriage to Darleen on the eve of the wedding, but I didn’t inform you that I told my best man that same thing the night before the ceremony. We aren’t on good terms now, so I didn’t want to have to involve him, but he’ll cooperate by confirming that.”

“Excellent. A witness is always good.” The priest nodded solemnly. “Anything else?”

“Darleen and I fought almost from the first day of our marriage.” A flicker of impatience crossed Wally’s eyes, but his voice was unruffled. “It’ll be awkward, but any number of people can testify to that.”

“I’m sorry for your embarrassment, but those people’s statements will help to disprove a letter such as the one you described.” A corner of the priest’s lips turned up slightly. “I do understand that for a non-Catholic such as you, this process must appear absurd, but without it your marriage to Skye will not be valid in the eyes of the Church.”

“Believe me, I understand how much this means to her.” Wally looked at Skye, who nodded.

“This great act of self-giving love will only make your marriage stronger.” Father Burns looked heavenward and added, “God doesn’t always give us only what we can handle. But He does help us handle what we are given.”

Skye heard Wally grind his teeth, so she hastily rose from her chair. “Thank you, Father. We won’t keep you any longer.”

As the priest ushered them to the door, it occurred to Skye that he might have known Quentin Neal. “Do you have one more minute, Father?”

“Certainly, my dear.” The priest paused with his hand on the knob.

“Do you remember a man by the name of Quentin Neal?” Skye held tight to Toby’s leash as the little dog lurched toward the exit. “He was active in the choir about twenty-seven years ago.”

“He doesn’t sound familiar.” Father Burns stepped over to a wooden stand and opened a large book, flipping through the pages. “Ah, that’s why I don’t remember him. He was here only ten months in 1978, and that was the year I was on sabbatical in Rome.”

“Rats!” They just couldn’t catch a break. “Are the names of his family members listed?”

“No. Sorry.” The priest ran his finger over the paper. “Only he was a member.”

“How about an address?” Skye crossed her fingers that she could narrow down the location. Noreen had remembered only the name of the street.

“That is here.” Father Burns leaned forward and read, “Thirteen oh eight Singer Lane.”

“Terrific.”

Just before Skye and Wally stepped across the threshold, Father Burns said, “Something to think about. Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but a lot of happiness and self-growth happen while you’re climbing it.”