Chapter 28
The scene unfolding in front of my eyes is surreal. The EMTs have stabilized Monsignor Moore and are loading him into an ambulance. I hear him praising God and blessing the EMTs. Then I watch Joshua being led away in handcuffs and know that what’s happening here isn’t right or even fair. This young man was destroyed when he was only eight years old by that vicious pedophile who is now being taken to a hospital where he’ll have expert and gentle care. Joshua is the real victim, and he is headed to a precinct holding cell. The EMTs released him to police custody after having cleaned the flesh wound. Where’s the justice in this scenario?
Of course the law doesn’t see it that way. Having translated legal documents for ten years I know that. The letter of the law says that Joshua is a kidnapper and a possible accessory to several murders and mutilations. My only hope in all this is that the monsignor will survive and be charged with, and convicted of, the continuous rape of a minor and other sex crimes. In child sexual abuse cases there is no statute of limitations for prosecuting first degree sexual misconduct.
There are lawyers who specialize in helping adult survivors of sexual abuse and there will be someone who will defend Joshua when he is charged. He was looking to punish the man who damaged his life and that trauma alone should count for something. “Do you know how Myrtle is?” I ask Will as he walks over to me. The dispatcher call came through his police scanner.
“Good, she’s good. She was checked out and released; just bruises and she jammed her shoulder on the sink when she tried to get up from the floor. The emergency room doctor said she’ll be fine with a good night’s sleep. Harry was a nervous wreck but she calmed him down.” He’s writing something in a small notebook. “By the way, our tech guy, Max, was finally able to trace the IP address to a computer in the trunk of your kidnapper’s car which was parked in a high-rise garage. And we found him where you left him, stuffed halfway under the van.” He looks at me before adding, “Nice work with the duct tape.”
I sway forward a little and Will puts his arm around my waist. “How are you? You’ve got quite a bump on the side of your head, babe.”
One of the EMTs approaches us. “Detective Benigni? The patient is stabilized and we’re leaving for the hospital now. That young man you arrested will be referred to the prison infirmary later today so we’re done here.” He points to me. “Are you taking your colleague to the emergency to get her checked out? I know you said she doesn’t want to ride along with us but she does need to be seen by a doctor.”
Will assures him that he will take me to be checked out and I let him lead me to his car. I’m taken away to the ER with police lights flashing and siren howling and my ex-husband reaching over to hold my hand as we race away.
****
“How are you feeling, honey?”
I open my eyes to see a concerned Myrtle standing next to my bed, her arm in a sling. I don’t even remember coming home.
“I’m okay. Are you alright?” I struggle to a sitting position, groggy as hell. There are male voices coming from the living room and I hear Giles and Will talking in low tones. “Whoa, Myrtle, whatever they gave me made me zone out for a few minutes.”
“More like two hours,” says Will who has appeared in the doorway with Giles.
“You have been out for a while,” smiles Giles coming over to the bed. “It isn’t so much what they gave you, Cate; it's what you’ve been through. Your body needs to rest. I wrote down what drug you received along with any possible side effects. All the information is on your kitchen counter. Since you wouldn’t stay at the hospital for observation, Will and I decided that I should monitor you and make sure that you’re okay. Now lay back down like a good girl, okay?”
“I’m going to the precinct to check on Joshua McElroy,” says Will. “We’ll talk later.”
“I think I need to come with you. Marie might need me.”
“Jesus! Can you never do what you’re supposed to do? You were conked on the side of your head and needed stitches and you’re damned lucky you only have a slight concussion. So stay put, got it?”
Myrtle shushes Will and takes my hand. “I spoke with Marie; she’s dealing with all this very well. And she’s so happy that Joshua is alive. You can talk to her later. Just rest honey; I’ll be here.” Looking at Will and Giles, she adds, “You both should go now. I’ll take care of her.” Myrtle’s word is law it seems and like a good girl I lay back and try to do as she says.
****
Getting roughed up has made me grateful for my friends. Melissa has called three times to see how I am and sent flowers and enough gourmet food for a week. Giles came by later that night to check on me and said he’d be back in the morning. Marie called to tell me how grateful she was that I found her brother alive.
“I know you’re supposed to rest, but I wanted to thank you, Cate,” she says crying into the phone. “You gave me back Joshua and that’s all I wanted. Thank you, thank you!”
“Marie, are you alone? I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”
“No, no I’m not alone. Detective Benigni was here and he was so kind to me. And Mr. O’Leary is here with me too. He even came to the, you know, the… place where they’re … holding Joshua.” She can’t seem to bring herself to say the word jail. “I’m okay. Did you know Mr. O’Leary’s great-nephew is a law professor? Mr. O is asking him to look into how we can best help Joshua.”
Good old Mr. O’Leary. We talk a bit more but I feel weary and my stitches hurt so I tell her I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I fall in and out of sleep.
Harry brought some double-stuffed cupcakes with him when he came to pick up Myrtle. She insisted, however, on staying at my place in case I needed her. I later found out that she and Harry were in the middle of watching a Law and Order marathon when Will unlocked my front door sometime around twelve-thirty and sent them home.
I half wake in the night to find warm, strong arms around me. “Giles?” I whisper sleepily. Someone shushes me and brushes my hair back from my face, rocking me to sleep again. Next morning on my way to the bathroom I find Detective Will Benigni asleep on my couch.
****
Within a week I’m back at my office with a large bandage covering my stitches. I feel good, not good enough to whack some balls out at the court, but good enough to return to work and to walk over to Enzo’s for a hot sub. It’s a nice warm spring day.
Later back in my office as I’m idly watching the baby birds begin to take their first flight, I think of what has happened in a week’s time. I gave my statement and my report to the authorities and the sex crimes unit. Two days after he was pronounced out of danger, Monsignor Moore was arrested in the acute care center of the hospital. After his arraignment at the same hospital, he was confined to his room there and handcuffed to his bed. No bail was set and he was remanded to custody.
David was arrested for the brutal murders and mutilations of the three priests. He’s being examined by a slew of psychiatrists, and who knows when he’ll come to trial. Will and his team confirmed that David’s victims were indeed pedophiles and that the hierarchy in the Catholic Church, through their respective parishes, had aided and abetted their sex crimes by transferring them from parish to parish and through the process of laicization. Charges are being brought against all who hid the heinous pedophilia so rampant in the church. The first victim I had found in upstate New York was found to have been David's choirmaster, sixth grade theology teacher, and his rapist.
A call from Father Richard Boyd confirmed that the first murdered priest had been financially supported by the church. Father Richard told me he’s praying for us all. He also told me he’s thinking of entering a half-marathon; prayer and running seems to be his saving graces.
Joshua was arraigned in front of Judge Antonia Veccarelli who kindly set his bail at five hundred thousand dollars. She could have set a much higher one or denied him bail altogether. The bail money was put up by Mr. O’Leary. It seems my ninety-something moonshiner is a wealthy man. He’s been saving his money in high yield CDs and bonds for years. As he said to me when he came by my office with Marie and Joshua, “What the hell am I going to do with my money anyway? It’s just sittin’ in the damn bank. Might as well do some good for good people.”
Marie was right when she said that she sometimes felt as if Joshua was watching over her for the past ten years; he was. He never left New York State. Joshua McElroy had planned his escape for over two years and saved birthday money, his allowance, and cash from neighborhood jobs. He knew exactly where he was going when he left, an isolated old railway depot upstate. Joshua planned well; he had blankets, clothes, and lots of canned goods in his gym bag to sustain him.
After a few months he found a small farm where he worked odd jobs for room and board. The woman who hired him was old and nearly blind; Joshua told her he was nineteen. She probably had no idea Joshua was a fifteen-year-old runaway. A few years later, he found a job in a veterinarian’s office cleaning cages and caring for injured animals. He is a survivor the same as those survivors he read about.
He feels tremendous guilt over not being there for Marie when their parents died. The horrible fear of seeing Monsignor Moore again kept him away and he cannot forgive himself for giving into that fear even though Marie says she understands.
I gave Marie the name of the head of the legal team at SNAP. I had called their office three days after I found Joshua. They charge a sliding fee and I think that maybe along with Mr. O’Leary’s nephew, they can help Joshua’s case. They’re the experts in cases of priest molestation. They also recommended a therapist well versed in cases of child sex abuse.
As for Joshua, after his release on bail, he sat on the couch in my office while I spoke with Marie and Mr. O’Leary. Myrtle kept a conversation going with him and fed him Harry’s cherry tarts and iced tea. At one point I heard a soft boyish laugh and was surprised that it came from Joshua.
Marie hugged me goodbye and I told her I’d be there for the trial. She wants me to keep in touch and I’d like to do that but not for a while. She and Joshua need to get through a lot together and come out with new lives. Joshua came over to me and thanked me for, as he put it, saving him.
“You saved yourself, Joshua because you’re a good and decent person. Never forget that.” He just shook his head sadly.
When they were leaving Mr. O'Leary gave me two-quart bottles of his aged whiskey and told me not to be a stranger. “How many years you think I got left, lady detective? Come see me while I’m still alive.” I said I would.
My social life has been put on hold for a while; I’ve been pretty busy. Work has picked up for Catherine Harlow, Private Investigations in the way of corporate security, long-lost relatives, and the always lucrative wayward spouse cases. I think Giles understands. Since he’s been named president of the New York State Association of County Coroners and Medical Examiners, he’s been busy too. Professionally we’re swamped.
Giles and I have had dinner several times and he’s stayed over at my brownstone twice, but that’s about it. He has mentioned moving in together but I’m still not ready. We do speak on the phone almost every other day and it’s always nice to hear his voice.
****
Two months later in the sweet month of June, I had sex with my ex, the charming Detective Benigni. He came over to my office one night while I was working late. I can’t prove it but my private investigator’s gut instinct, the one that rarely fails me, thinks Myrtle may have told him I was there alone and needed company. He came on the pretext of bringing me a super-large Timothy’s hazelnut coffee and to keep me company while I worked. We knocked back the coffee with some of Mr. O’Leary's whiskey, which I had left in the office.
Maybe it was the way he smelled, that nice clean just–showered male fragrance and the way he looked in his jeans and NYPD polo shirt. Will always did have a good body. Or maybe it was the way he winked and smiled at me when relating a funny story about something that happened at the precinct. Or maybe, just maybe, it was some colossal cosmic event where the stars seem to be aligned and you’re not in absolute control of what you do. It’s also possible that I was horny and knew that Will could scratch my sexual itch.
Whatever it was, I let him seduce me and O’Leary's potent brew did a good job of dulling any twinges of guilt I felt about Giles. Will knows exactly what erotic buttons to press and pretty soon he had me completely undressed and damn ready for action on my newly cleaned couch.
“You got a landing strip?” says Will eyeing me appreciatively as he takes off his clothes.
I close my eyes and sigh. The landing strip; I had gone with Melissa for a waxing and had gotten talked into the strip. I kind of liked it.
“Yup, I do. Let me put it into aeronautical terms. There’s a strip of land that a pilot follows when the plane is coming in for a landing. It guides the pilot to the exact right spot.’’
Lying down next to me, he pulls me closer to him. The body next to me is comfortingly bare and I snuggle into his chest. His fingers gently raise my head to look up at his face.
“Baby, let me tell you that a good and experienced pilot can guide his own plane in for a landing without any help where it will settle nicely into a warm berth.”
And he’s so right.
****
Sometime during the night, my cell phone buzzes and voice-mail picks up the message.
“Hello, this message is for Cate Harlow. Please, I need to meet with you as soon as possible. My name is Jennifer Brooks Warren and someone has been hired to kill me!"
Although For I Have Sinned is a complete work of fiction, there are issues within the book which are based on fact. The following notes have been thoroughly researched and documented by investigative reporters and media.
The Church sanctioned surgical castrations of Dutch boys who reported sexual abuse by priests in the 1950’s. This proven fact was brought to public attention by journalist Joep Dohmen.
In 2012, Father Benedict Groeschel, C.F.R., a psychologist, and director of the Office for Spiritual Development for the Catholic Archdiocese of New York, made this statement concerning the sexual abuse of children by priests: “In a lot of the cases, the youngster … is the seducer.”
The process of laicization allows a priest accused of pedophilia to be removed from the priesthood. The action may be voluntarily requested by the priest or it may be involuntarily applied by the Church. In many cases this process has helped sexual predators to avoid criminal prosecution.
News media confirmed that under the leadership of certain U.S. archbishops, dioceses paid individual sums of twenty thousand dollars to priests accused of molesting children to help them transit to a new life.
In 2013, priests accused of pedophilia have been found to be living in a New Jersey retirement home, paid for by the archdiocese. The home is located near several schools.
SNAP, the Survivors Network of those Abused by Priests, is a real organization that has helped bring attention to the sexual abuse of minors committed by the clergy in the Catholic Church. The organization has successfully pursued justice for the survivors of sexual abuse.
It is to be duly noted that there are many compassionate priests within the Roman Catholic Church who, like the two fictional priest-characters Father Richard Boyd and Father Pat in the book, abhor what has been allowed to happen within the church they love and who devote themselves to helping the survivors of these sexual crimes.
COMING SOON!
GRAVE MISGIVINGS
A Cate Harlow Private Investigation