Hotline to Murder

reverberated off the walls and ceiling and filled every corner of the room. Their religious practices might be suspect, but their music was top-notch.
    Tony went through the doorway first. He saw that most of the pews were filled. The congregation was standing. The men and women and a few children swayed to the music, adding the impact of their bodies to that of their voices. The Reverend Luther Hodgkins stood in front leading the singing, and Tony could clearly hear his booming bass voice over those of everybody else. The voices of the robed members of the choir also penetrated to the back of the room. Shahla came in behind Tony and stood beside him, looking awed.
    Tony felt a presence on the other side of him. He turned his head and saw a man smiling and holding out a program toward him. Tony nodded his thanks—there was no point in trying to talk over the singing—and took it, being careful not to lose control of his crutch. He led Shahla to the back row of the pews, which, fortunately, was empty on one side. She went past him, and he stayed on the aisle.
    They didn’t try to join in the singing. They did find themselves joining the congregation in moving their bodies as the music engulfed them. Tony surveyed the other parishioners. His guess was that the majority of them were of African descent, with a sprinkling of Europeans and at least one woman he could see who looked Asian. He did not see Nathan.
    The singing went on for another five minutes. Just when Tony wondered whether it was ever going to end, it came to a conclusion with a final amen. Reverend Hodgkins motioned for the congregation to sit. In order for Tony to have enough room to stretch out his left leg, he had to sit somewhat sideways. He sat facing toward Shahla so he wouldn’t lose contact with her. What to do with his crutches was another problem. He finally laid them on the floor.
    Reverend Hodgkins was giving announcements of the kind made in many churches. News of congregation members who were sick and one who had died. He said of the deceased, “He has preceded us into Glory, where we will be joining him soon.” Tony wondered how soon “soon” was.
    He heard the Reverend saying, “We have two guests with us tonight. It is customary for our guests to give their names and tell what prompted them to come to our church. Would you please stand and be recognized?”
    The Reverend had sharp eyes. So much for trying to stay incognito. Shahla clearly wasn’t going to stand unless Tony did, and for Tony to stand again after he had just sat down would have taken a major effort. Everybody had turned around and was looking at them. Tony felt growing embarrassment.
    He said, in what he hoped was a voice loud enough for everybody to hear, “It is difficult for me to stand because of a recent injury, but I want to thank you for welcoming us here tonight. My name is Tony and this is Shahla. We are friends of Nathan Watson, whose talk about your church has made us curious.” Realizing that “curious” wasn’t a good word, Tony said, “We are on a spiritual quest, and we have been led to your door.”
    “Nathan,” Reverend Hodgkins said, focusing his eyes near the front of the congregation, “Do you acknowledge these guests?”
    Nathan stood up from the third row and looked back toward Tony and Shahla. “They are my friends, and I take full responsibility for them.”
    Tony detected a certain lack of conviction in Nathan’s voice and suspected that his presence, rather than Shahla’s, caused it. But Nathan couldn’t admit that he had screwed up in front of the congregation. Apparently, not just anybody could wander in off the street and attend a service.
    Reverend Hodgkins had them bow their heads in prayer. Tony was thankful that the spotlight was off them. He glanced at Shahla, whose return look showed doubts about what they were doing here. Perhaps they would leave during the singing of the next hymn, when the attention of the parishioners would be focused elsewhere. Tony was plotting their escape when the words of the Reverend’s prayer caught his attention.
    “It is written that the Day of Judgment is coming,” Reverend Hodgkins said. “Others have tried to pinpoint this day and have failed. With your divine guidance, oh Lord, we, your humble servants, have been privileged to discover the correct date. Let our hearts be light as we divest ourselves of our material possessions and use them for the greater glory of your