by Henry Hack
“True, but I’m his favorite son, and if he wants us involved…”
“He picks up the phone and pulls the string.”
“Correct. Uh, is Micena or Paul around?”
“Both just came back from lunch. Which one do you want to speak with?’
“John.”
I heard him shout, “Boss is on line two for you, Micena.”
Two seconds later he picked up and asked “Is it all over?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Did you shoot him?”
“No.”
“Did you arrest him?”
“No.”
“Did he confess?”
“Yes he did. I’ll fill you, Richie, and the sergeants in tomorrow.”
“Uh, we can’t close the case, though. I mean the second perp has been identified, but is not in custody.”
“We’ll figure something out – tomorrow.”
“Got it, Mike. See you in the morning.”
When I returned to the Bishop’s office, Brian had finished setting up the recorder. He said, “It has a one-hour capacity. If you need more, Your Excellency, buzz me and I’ll bring another cassette in.”
“Thanks, Brian,” he said.
I noticed Francis was a bit pale in the face and he sunk heavily into his chair when Brian left the office. “Bad news?” I asked.
“I have been summoned to Rome. I leave in two days.”
“Couldn’t that be a good thing?”
“I doubt it, Mike. I have been pushing an agenda – a cause – if you will, and I believe it is not being well received.”
“Is this related to the situation you wanted to talk about?”
“Yes.”
“Is the Cardinal going with you?”
“No, he has already been there a few months ago on my behalf, and on the behalf of the other Bishops who are aligned with me. He reported our concerns to the Vatican brass.”
“The Pope?”
“No, to a group of five Cardinals who are the real powers in the church. They control everything over there, and they decide what gets brought to the Pope. If they say he doesn’t have to hear it, it doesn’t get heard.”
“Similar to the hierarchy in the NYPD,” I said, smiling.
“The comparison of our organizations is remarkably similar. They are highly dysfunctional, centralized structures, and in both, the supreme decision-making power lies with one man – the Pope, or the Police Commissioner.”
“Do you think this powerful clan of Cardinals has reached a decision on your agenda?”
“I believe so, and I also believe I will be told to stand down and retreat from my proposals. And I believe they will threaten me with dire consequences if I don’t relent.”
Jokingly I said, “Do you think they’ll whack you right there in the Vatican? Maybe slip you into one of the buried Pope’s caskets?”
“This isn’t fucking funny, Mike,” he said, but he burst out laughing anyway.
“Fucking funny? You shock me, Bishop.”
“I bet,” he said. “Blame it on the Corps. Thankfully, profanity is my sole vice. Unless you count heresy, which is what the clan of Cardinals in Rome will conclude.”
“You’ve got me interested in this unfolding mystery. Maybe we should turn on the tape recorder, and as they say, begin from the beginning, my son.”
He nodded and flicked the recorder’s switch on.
. . .
“When I was a young Priest I was warned I would be hit on by some attractive, young parishioners looking to bed me for a night, or longer.”
“Naturally. You were a good-looking stud back in those days. I guess it was to be expected.”
“No, Mike, that’s the point. It shouldn’t be expected. What kind of Catholics were these young women to engage in this behavior?”
“Normal, healthy, red-blooded gals, I presume.”
“Yes, and we priests are abnormal by virtue of our vow of celibacy, but are also healthy, red-blooded males. And as such we also have a strong desire to get laid.”
“But you remained chaste?”
“Yes, I was true to my Marine Corps vows and to the vows I took with the church.”
“And there was also that self-inflicted punishment brought on by the events of the night of June 16, 1957, correct?”
“Correct. I fended off those amorous advances, and what made it more difficult as the years went by, was that I sometimes wondered if I was the only one in the whole damn Diocese who remained loyal to the faith.”
“No kidding?”
“Oh, yes, Mike. I saw it first hand. Priests and nuns included. And when I was promoted to Monsignor and assigned as an aide to the former Cardinal in Manhattan, my job was to investigate, and cover up, the sexual misdeeds of our priests.”
“And there were that many?”
“Dozens. Every month. Priests caught with prostitutes, with girlfriends. Priests caught with nuns. Nuns caught with men. I was shocked by the number of them involved in these acts.”
“Not to mention those afraid to engage with others, but with themselves, eh, Frank?”
“I can only imagine. As time went by and I got to know more members of other religions – rabbis and pastors – I came to the conclusion they were right, and we were wrong. Point one on my agenda was to convince the church to finally allow priests to marry, have children, and have housing provided nearby to their church.”
“A parsonage?”
“Yes, or a vicarage, it can be called. And you know, Mike, it used to be that way for a thousand years.”
“I remember that from some religion course in Loughlin. Why did they change the rules?”
“Money. The church wanted to retain all the property that would otherwise have been passed down to the priests’ children.”
“I believe there has been some talk about marriage for priests, already.”
“Yes, but despite much local support on the priest and bishop levels, Rome has continued to turn a deaf ear. I would go one step further and require priests to be married, or married within two years of ordination, for them to become a Priest in the first place.”
“Good idea, but I don’t understand how you are so fearful over proposing and advocating it. I mean, you do believe they will kill you over this?”
“Mike, this is a minor part of my reform agenda. The next part, a situation of monstrous proportions, is what they are most worried about.”
“Which is?”
“Pedophilia.”
“Are you saying some priests are pedophiles?”
“No, not some, Mike. A lot. A huge amount. I know from bailing them out. I believe Holy Mother Church is a veritable powerful magnet drawing them in. They have to be dealt with. They have to be arrested and charged with these sickening crimes of depravity.”
“I think I may have read about a case of a priest being investigated for sexual abuse of a boy. A few months ago, out on Long Island.”
“Yes, they can’t cover them all up, but they sure as hell try to.”
“How?”
“Like in the police department. They transfer them. Make them someone else’s problem.”
“But don’t the Bishops complain?”
“A few do, but those that don’t are either afraid, or pedophiles themselves.”
“Bishops?”
“Bishops, and rumor has it, two of our five Cardinals.”
“That’s hard to believe, Frank.
”
“When a cop who is a drunk gets promoted to sergeant, he’s still a drunk, right?”
“I see your point. What is your solution to the problem?”
“Address it head on. Admit guilt and clean house. Institute a background check thorough enough to eliminate them getting ordained into the priesthood, which brings me back to my first point. Protestant clergy and Jewish clergy – married clergy – have extremely low rates of pedophilia.”
“And Cardinal Callahan brought these ideas of yours to Rome a few months ago?”
“Yes, but I’m not alone in this. Seventeen other U.S. Bishops signed on to my agenda, including the Bishop of the Rockville Centre Diocese of Long Island.”
“But you are the leader of the pack?”
“Yes, and to kill the pack you behead its leader.”
“Do you have more details?”
“Plenty, but I need a cup of coffee first, and I think that tape is about to run out.
. . .
With the second tape turning I asked, “You said you had seventeen Bishops with you. How many Bishops are there in the States?”
“Two hundred and forty.”
“You don’t even have ten percent on board.”
“No, and several of them have personally called me urging me and the others to stop our crusade. They feel if it gets out, the church will be destroyed. I countered by saying if it doesn’t get out, and get put out there by us, they will be correct.”
“Do you have any of this documented?”
He smiled and said, “Oh, yes, I have a list of all the violators here in my office safe, but the detailed records, which include every piece of information on each incident, are not kept here for obvious reasons, primarily if I am ordered to turn them over to the higher ups.”
“Where are they being safeguarded?”
“You are not going to like this, Mike. They are being held by a member of your department who I trust as much as you.”
“Why won’t I like it?”
“Because my man inside the department is none other than Deputy Inspector Raymond Elliott of Internal Affairs.”
“What? That son-of-a-bitch –”
“Hold on, Mike, let me explain. I first met Ray when he was a lieutenant here in the 84 precinct. We have a mutual friend, the Episcopal Bishop of Brooklyn, Harold Masters. I called him and the Boro Commander, to get Elliott off your back.”
“I’m confused.”
“Ray Elliott’s presence in Internal Affairs is crucial to my cause. He hates it there, and wants out badly, but he plays the bad guy role perfectly. This impresses his bosses and allows him to remain in his position a while longer to help my cause.”
“Exactly why, and how, is he critical to your cause?”
“He has unlimited access to all the records of the NYPD. As such, he has documented all the cases I made him aware of, and he found hundreds more on his own.”
“What’s your plan of action? What’s your endgame?”
“It depends on the outcome of my meeting in Rome.”
“And if, as you suspect, they turn a deaf ear to you, and the problem, what do you do?”
“I’ll tell them I’m going to explode the story to the media and demand the appropriate police departments investigate and arrest all the miscreants.”
“You do have a death wish, don’t you? Maybe my joke will become a reality – The Bishop of Brooklyn was killed in a horrible motor vehicle accident right outside the Vatican walls. Or maybe – Beloved Bishop of Brooklyn found drowned in the Tiber River.”
“Mike –”
“No, listen to me. If they stonewall you and threaten you to cease and desist, here’s what you do. You smile, bow, kiss their rings and say, ‘Yes, Your Eminence, I will obey’ and then get your holy ass back here forthwith. We don’t want to lose a man who is without sin, right?”
“That’s good advice, but I think the Bishop of Rockville Centre would step up to lead our efforts in the case of my untimely death and follow through as I had planned.”
“Are you certain? Will he and the other Bishops say to themselves, ‘Fuck this, I got the message?’”
He sighed and said, “I’ve been around long enough to know I can’t predict future human behavior. And maybe the Vatican will see it my way after all.”
“Good. Go to Rome. When you come back we’ll plan this out together depending on their reaction. I’ll be thinking about it while you’re gone.”
TWENTY-FIVE
The next morning, Richie Paul and John Micena joined me in my office and I filled them in on my meeting with the Bishop and, as expected, they peppered me with questions. John said, “He went for it immediately?”
“Yes, as I told you he would.”
“Yeah,” Richie said, “forty years of guilt is a heavy cross to bear.”
“And you bought his story completely?”
“One hundred percent, John. I knew he told me the absolute truth.”
“And you absolved him of his guilt?” Richie asked. “That took a lot of guts, and a real Christian belief in forgiveness.”
“It was the right thing to do,” I said not reminding him I was no longer a believing Christian, but a Jew who did not adhere to that faith either. But that would have invited questions I was not prepared to answer, or deal with, right now. Coward, flashed through my mind.
“Can we now close this case once and for all?” John asked.
“Technically,” Richie said, “the second man is still out there undetected and not under arrest.”
“I was thinking of saying a Giuseppe Mastronunzio was found dead in Italy,” I said, “or something like that, but there are too many loopholes fabricating something like that.”
“How about we write it up that the guy was identified, but all efforts to locate him met with negative results?”
“I like that, John,” I said. “We’ll make that the final report on the case and microfilm it. But we’ll still have to classify it as a cold-case, unsolved.”
“Okay,” Richie said, “but we did type up the reports you asked on the real identity of Nunzio. They are on your desk.”
“I’ll shred them,” I said. “And after you add that last report to the file, we’ll shred the whole damn thing.”
“That may take a long time,” John said. “Probably burn the damn shredder up.”
“A little at a time,” I said. “A couple of inches a day.”
“Will do, Mike. Oh, you told Sergeant Megara you might have something new for us? A situation involving the Bishop?”
“Could be,” I said, “but not right now. It could end up being nothing. I’ll let you know if something develops.”
“Okay,” John said. “Come on, Richie, let’s wrap this one up and start shredding.”
“Thanks once again guys. Pick out a date for dinner at Peter Luger’s.”
“Ten-four,” Richie said. “My mouth is watering already.”
. . .
When Charlie Seich arrived at four o’clock I called him and Harry into my office. I said, “I wish to inform you, my two loyal sergeants, Paul and Micena are now back working for you full time.”
“Nothing came from the Bishop’s situation?”
“No, not yet, but if it does, I want to include you two and Richie and John to plan our response. I need all your brain power and experience if this problem blows up.”
“That serious?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, but let’s not jump the gun. Maybe it will all go away.”
&n
bsp; “That other case, uh, your case, is all concluded?” Harry asked.
“Yes, here’s what happened…”
When I finished and they were shaking their heads in disbelief that the Bishop of Brooklyn was indeed Giuseppe Mastronunzio I said, “I know I don’t have to say this, but the resolution of that investigation is between us and Micena and Paul. It is to be held in the strictest confidence and never spoken about to anyone else. Although, I owe the explanation to my wife, as you can imagine.”
“Got it, Mike,” Harry said. “Vivian’s not a gabber if I remember rightly.”
“Not on important things, just like us,” I said, “but on unimportant things, she can chatter away with the best of them.”
“Just like us,” Charlie said with a chuckle.
. . .
The day after Frank returned from Rome he called me and when I picked up the phone I said, “At least you’re alive. How did it go?”
“Good,” he said. “They were cordial and appeared genuinely interested in the problem. Evidently, the Cardinal did a good job of setting it up for me.”
“How much did you tell them?”
“Not all of it. I documented a dozen or so cases, but when I mentioned hundreds of more cases in our Archdiocese alone, there was definite disbelief.”
“You took my advice, though?”
“Yes, I kissed all their rings, and they said they would contact me in the future through Cardinal Callahan, with their advice on how we should proceed.”
“Any idea when that will be?”
“No. Should we do anything now?”
“No, but I have some ideas in case things go sour.”
“Such as?”
“Target hardening. Hidden CCTV cameras and microphones in your office there, and your office in the co-cathedral. Private security bodyguards. CCTV cameras on all entrances at both cathedrals. Things like that.”
“Jesus, Mike, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Frank, if you blow this up in the media, that’s the least amount of protection you will need. But let’s hope for the best. Let’s hope the powers that be in Rome see the light and see the error of their ways and allow the church to come clean.”
