And so they took the ailing man of the cloth home. Tex removed those clothes, such as they were, and somehow managed to get the man into the shower. It wasn’t easy, for Francis Reilly was a big man, and wasn’t very helpful. In fact once the water hit him he struggled and yelled like a cat being given a bath. Tex was soaking wet, the bathroom was soaking wet, in fact everything was wet, but luckily so was the priest, who at this point looked a little more alert than before.
“Tex?” he muttered, as if he’d seen the Holy Ghost. “Is that you?”
“It is. Now let’s get you into some fresh clothes and into bed,” Tex said.
“Bed? But I don’t want to go to bed.”
“Well, you’re gonna, whether you like it or not. You’re not well, Francis.”
“Oh, all right,” said the man, possibly realizing that resistance was futile.
And it was with a renewed appreciation for the hard work nurses did, that Tex dressed the man, and then tucked him into bed to sleep off his five-day bender.
Feeling that his work was done, Tex removed himself from the scene. At this point he could have used a nice pick-me-up, but instead he opted for some dry and clean clothes for himself and a swig from the Coca-Cola bottle in the fridge.
In the bedroom, the sleeping priest was being watched over by two women. They were satisfied that they’d done all they could—or at least Tex had. “A fine job well done!” said Vesta when the mission was accomplished. “Now all we have to do is keep an eye on him.”
“I’ll do it,” said Scarlett. “The poor man. Being left by his wife.”
“Marigold wasn’t his wife,” Vesta pointed out. “That was exactly the problem.”
“Well, anyway. He’s still handsome for his age,” said Scarlett, who had warmed to the man now that he was clean and sober. “Though he could use a haircut.” She sighed. “All he needs is a good woman to look after him.”
“Scarlett,” said Vesta warningly.
“What? I’m just saying. Sometimes all a man needs is the love and support of a good woman. It just might be the making of him.”
“Please tell me you’re not envisioning yourself in that role? Just keep an eye on him. And when he starts thrashing about or demanding a drink, be tough and say no. Can you do that? Can you say no to a man?”
Scarlett’s face flushed with indignation. “Of course I can say no to a man. Who do you think I am?”
“Well, mind that you do. We’re all relying on you.”
And as she left the bedroom, she heard Scarlett mutter,“I can say no to a man. Just you wait and see.”
CHAPTER 21
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We were back at the winery, for more interviews with more people, trying to shed some light on the life and times of Jeff Felfan.
“So has it been decided that Cipriana wasn’t the intended victim?” asked Dooley.
“Yes, I think so,” I said.
“So she was murdered just so the killer could make Jeff look bad?”
“It certainly looks that way,” I agreed.
“Poor woman. At least whoever did this could have showed her the common courtesy of murdering her for who she was, not for the purpose she could fulfill.”
I eyed my friend keenly.“That was a very insightful thing to say, Dooley.”
“I can be insightful.”
“I know you can.”
Odelia and Chase were talking to Steph once more, out on the patio, where she was sipping from what looked like a cup of tea. The housekeeper now brought out a tray with more cups and saucers, and a big pot of tea for the visitors. There were also cookies on the tray, but as far as I could tell no kibble.
“They always forget about us, don’t they, Max?” said Dooley sadly.
“Very often,” I agreed. Especially the people who didn’t have pets themselves, like the Stewarts, forgot that cats have needs—mostly in the food department.
But we could be strong and skip a meal. It was going to be tough, but we could power through, for the sake of bringing the killer of Steph’s husband to justice.
“I knew Jeff wouldn’t have paid a visit to a prostitute,” said Steph after Odelia had finished telling her about the newly acquired insight that Jeff’s murder was actually a premeditated affair, and that Cipriana had been drugged before she was shot—and not shot by her own hand either, since she would have been unconscious by then. “So have you talked to Clive Balcerak? He’s the one who lured him to that flat.”
“We’re going to talk to him soon,” Chase promised. “How well do you know the man?”
“Not well, I’m afraid. I’ve never even met him. He worked in the same department as Jeff, but they never got on. Clive had started a couple of months before Jeff, and for some reason felt threatened by him. You see, Clive is a very ambitious man, and wants to make a career at Capital First. And somehow he got it into his head that Jeff was the man to beat. He’s extremely competitive.”
“Enough to kill your husband, you think?”