Triple Pursuit by Ralph McInerny

unintelligible reference to Cesare Borgia.
    Mario Liberati probably would have been created a cardinal if he had gone into the priesthood. Tim liked him immediately.
    â€œI never go to court, so it’s not surprising we haven’t met before. Colleen has given me an underling’s view of things.”
    â€œâ€˜An underling’s’? Most of us get credit for the work she does. I know I do.”
    Every effort to get him to talk of the firm was similarly deflected.
Tim liked that. Mallard and Bill would have liked him less if they thought he discussed the firm with outsiders, even with a prospective brother-in-law. He was not a lot more forthcoming about his family.
    â€œI was raised in Milwaukee, but got my first job here in Chicago after graduation.”
    â€œIsn’t Mallard and Bill your first job?”
    â€œThis was before law school. I was a financial adviser for several years.”
    This opened up a vast area of conversation, at least for Tim and Mario. Colleen must have known about it already but Jane was simply bored with money. They had enough, more than enough, and that gave her the right to ignore it. Except, of course, for a careful keeping of the household accounts, but this was an exercise in mathematics rather than economics. Jane tuned back in when Mario’s family came up.
    â€œMy parents married late and I am one of two children, almost an only child. Not many Italians can say either. They’ve retired to Sicily.”
    â€œWe’ll see them on our honeymoon,” Colleen said.
    â€œOf course Americans think of Sicily as Italians think of Chicago. It’s one of the most beautiful places on earth, all of it, but on the southern coast, it is breathtaking. There’s the sense that you’re in touch with the roots of civilization. Syracuse was a Greek city. Plato visited there.”
    â€œYou sound like you want to move there yourself.”
    â€œNo, but I’m gratified they are in such a place.”
    Colleen said, “Tim met Aggie at a conference, Mario.”
    â€œWho’s Aggie?” Jane asked.
    â€œA femme fatale,” Colleen confided, leaning toward Jane. “Skirts up to here, neckline down to here, all slinky and predatory. She tried to steal Mario away from me.”
    â€œDefinitely not my type.”
    â€œWhat did you think of her, Tim?” Jane asked.
    â€œAs little as possible,” he lied.
    â€œI don’t want any femme fatale stealing you away from me.”

    Later she and Tim talked about Mario and agreed that he was a good match for Colleen, who had been her old self again.
    â€œI suppose she must have wondered who she’d meet in an office, and what other chances were there?”
    â€œHe was worth waiting for.”
    â€œWhat a gallant guy you are,” Jane said, lifting her face to be kissed.
    2
    Desmond O’Toole regarded the arrival of Jack Gallagher at the Center as providential. Maud might be awed by the fact that Austin had been a professor of literature, but she would remember Jack from his radio days. Just about everyone did. They crowded around Jack, who responded in a way that made the women want to get closer and just touch him, but didn’t make the men resentful; they were as impressed as the women by the presence among them of someone who had been an undoubted local celebrity. And his voice! On radio it had been seductively gentle but it was even more so in person. He might have been inviting the ladies to get closer so they could hear his every word.
    â€œYou sing a little too, if I remember, Jack,” Desmond said, establishing himself as Jack’s right-hand man.
    Jack put on a shamefaced look. “I used to sing along with the records sometimes.”
    â€œOh, I remember,” Maud said. She had finally gotten right next to Jack.
    â€œThe reason I mention it, Jack,” Desmond said, “I was going to do a few vocals at the dance, and if you would spell me