by Hanley, Don;
"So, Jerry, am I saying what you want to hear?" He chuckled, I nodded, and he added, "I really would like to be one of the counselors. I learned a lot from Jack Carroll and I've been taking a course on psychology. It's a beginners' course and there's too much about rats and pigeons and not enough about people so far." He paused and looked at both of us. "So, how am I doin?"
I answered first, "I'd say pretty good, Jim. Maybe a little too much ass-kissing, but then I did that too when I was at interviews earlier in life." I noticed Sonia looked a bit shocked at my a-k remark, so I said, "So, Sonia, impressions so far, and, questions?"
"You express yourself quite well. Now tell us a bit more, Jim, why you want to be a prison counselor?"
"To be honest, my first reason is to possibly be able to negotiate a shorter sentence at this establishment." Again, he chuckled a bit. "More seriously, my counseling with Doc Carroll helped me a lot. I mean, because of him, I am now able to kinda relax and just accept being here in prison and do what I can to become a better person. I saw Doc a little over a year ago and I've read about ten or twelve books and taken two college courses since then. I hope I would like to do something like that for some other fellas."
Sonia asked, "Jim, what would you consider one of your major weaknesses—weaknesses that you'd have to work on if you were to become a good counselor?"
"I'll have to learn to listen better and be more patient. Too often, I offer my opinion or judgment about what a person should do, instead of listening and helping him find the answer."
I said, "This will be the last question from us. Jim, who makes up your support group? Here in prison and outside, like visits and letters and all?"
"Well, I like to think that Jack Carroll supports me and I have three other inmates I talk to a lot and who are pretty helpful to me ... and me to them. Outside, my mom and dad still visit once a month and that gives me a boost. They are in their seventies and it's kinda difficult for them, but I don't think they've missed a single visiting Sunday since I've been here. They come from Kansas City. And I have a brother and two sisters who visit sometimes. One sister in particular visits and sends me letters a lot. That's about it, I think."
I asked Sonia if there was anything else she'd like to ask Jim and she deferred. I said, "Jim, we'll send you on to the other two and we will let you know our decision tomorrow evening. Okay?"
When Jim left, Sonia said, "Gosh, I hope they are all as good as him." I agreed.
We both got ourselves some coffee and awaited our second prospect, Jose Garcia. Jose was serving thirty years for assaulting a police officer. He was a third or fourth generation American citizen and rated high on the surveys. Because of an earlier comment about worrying about how she'd be received by the Hispanic men, I encouraged Sonia to take a deep breath before he came in.
Jose was short and thin and very polite. He had completed two years of college before he had his confrontation with the police. He was twenty-eight years old and the father to two young girls. He shed a few tears when he talked about them and how he had let them down. Sonia and I were favorably impressed with him and felt the only challenge was his relative youth, but we felt he would do well. We both thought his sentence of 30 years was excessive and wondered if it would have been that long if he were Caucasian. That could be a cause for concern as we worked with the inmates.
Our next interviewee was also Hispanic, Sergio Hernandez, a legal immigrant from El Salvador. He was suspected of being in a gang in Kansas City, MO. He had served four years of an eighteen-year sentence for manslaughter, killing a rival gang member in K.C. Sergio claimed it was an accident.
As usual, Mike Wood, our guard, opened the door and I greeted Sergio. He was about as tall as Jose but much heavier and muscular. He looked tough. That's as much of an appraisal I got before all went haywire. Sergio kicked the door shut, grabbed Mike's belt with one hand, and jerked his gun out of its holster with the other. He pulled on Mike so powerfully that the guard, about a half foot taller, lost his balance and fell backwards. Obviously, Sergio was very at home with guns as he wielded it with confidence. I was frozen on the spot, shaking like a leaf, and scared to death. I had no idea what this man would do. He must have been the gang leader, not merely a member.
Mike had gotten to his feet and was standing only a few feet from me and looked calm but I suspected he was almost as afraid as I was. Sonia was about twenty feet from us. Sergio yelled at her, "Hey, lady, get your ass over here with these two assholes. You are going to be very important to me and will be helping me get out of here. If either of these guys tries anything, I'll shoot them and then I'll shoot you. Got it?"
Sonia nodded and looked frightened and weak as she slowly stumbled her way toward us. She was looking at the floor, and trembling so fiercely I thought she might pass out. I wanted to reach out and hold her, despite my being as scared as she looked.
Sergio looked determined as well as mean as he yelled at Sonia, "Move faster, bitch, we don't have all day!" His stare was frightening. She shied away from his command and backed up a bit. Sergio yelled, "Move this way, not away from me!"
He turned his attention to Mike and me and only occasionally glanced at Sonia. I had no idea what she was thinking but I wanted to do something. I unfroze enough to turn toward Mike for a moment and I'm not sure why, but it was enough to get Sergio's attention, and he yelled at me, "Stand still, asshole. The three of you are going to escort me out of this hellhole. Do as I say, or get yourself killed. Your choice." Again, he yelled at Sonia, "Goddamnit, lady, get yourself over here. These two are going to lead our little parade out of here and I'm gonna hold on to you in case anyone gets any crazy ideas. They won't want to see you hurt, pretty little lady, so damnit, get yourself over here."
I don't think Sergio noticed that Sonia made eye-contact with me and nodded toward Mike. I looked at Mike to see if he noticed anything and I turned toward him. Sergio focused on me and said, "You ain't gonna try anything, now are you? You don't want our little princess hurt, do you?" He raised his gun, first at Mike's chest and then at mine.
I looked up in time to see Sonia fly through the air and strike Sergio like a rattlesnake. Her jump was high enough to kick the gun out of his hand with one foot and to pump-kick him in the head with the other. The kick was so hard it raised Sergio off his feet and he landed in a heap on the floor. This all happened so quickly I was totally shocked. If I was not still so frozen with fear, I might have been able to catch the gun as it flew in my direction. Mike lunged for his gun and held it on Sergio while two other guards unlocked the door. The guards pounced, cuffed Sergio within seconds, and dragged him out of the room.
I finally got the courage to move and rushed over to Sonia and put out a hand. She pushed my hand away and gave me a hug and began to sob. I whispered, "Thank you so much, brave lady. You are fantastic."
We stood there in a tight hug for several minutes. It was the most cathartic hug in my life. Sonia said, "Well, we can take Sergio off our list." I gave her a puzzled look and then burst out laughing. We both laughed so hard tears came rolling down both of our faces.
Dan McGuire and Warden Henry Bonhoeffer rushed in. Dan said, "What the hell happened in here?"
Sonia and I were back in our chairs and working to breathe normally. I said, "Our third interviewee was to be Sergio Hernandez. As soon as Mike opened the door, Sergio grabbed his gun." I went on to tell them of Sonia's heroics and said, "If you have some kind of special award around here, Sonia deserves it. That fellow was very at home with guns and I was sure he was going to kill all three of us, after using us as his shield for escorting him out of the prison." I put my arm on Sonia's shoulder and added, "You saved our lives. Thank you!"
Bonhoeffer and McGuire were obviously very impressed with Sonia and inquired about her skills, past experience, and all. After a few minutes J.J. and Jack joined us and I told the story all over again. J.J. said, "If I go back to CPS, Sonia, I want to get some of that special training. I could have used it
a few times. How did we miss his explosiveness when we gave the surveys?"
Jack interrupted, "It was probably my fault for putting him on the list of possible prospects. I counseled him about four or five times and I did see his latent rage, but I thought he was sincerely working on it. I am so sorry for my poor judgment."
Dan added, "He was just a good actor. Some of these guys are very intelligent and cagey. They can act like model citizens for years, and then are paroled and go on a crime spree that none of us suspected."
Jack said, "All three of our guys this morning looked quite good. I hope our fourth this morning will be as well and, this evening, I'll go back over the next set of eight that we'll see tomorrow and I'll try to figure out if there is anyone who is even close to being dangerous for us." He turned to J.J. and asked, "If anything like this happens in our room, J.J., will you protect me, like Sonia did Jerry?"
"It's you who will have to protect me, old man! Let's get back to our interview before lunch."
I said to anyone who would listen, "I don't think I'm ready for our fourth interview. Are you Sonia?"
Sonia whispered, "No," and shook her head. "I'd like to lie down someplace." Warden Bonhoeffer offered his couch and she followed him to his office.
Henry came back to the conference room and I confessed to them how fearful I had been and he and Dan said they had experienced that kind of fear earlier in their prison work. That was very comforting to me, but I still felt guilty and ashamed of myself.
An hour later, Sonia was relaxed enough to join us for lunch in Henry Bonhoeffer's private dining room. Everyone continued congratulating her for her quick thinking and her Karate expertise. Later that afternoon we had our fourth interview and the second set of interviews and all four of us accepted the remaining seven inmates into our program.
Dan McGuire hosted J.J., Sonia, and me that evening and night in his house in Booneville. My sleep was filled with disturbing dreams of my inadequacies.
I pulled myself together so that the next day I was able to join Sonia in interviewing the second set of eight different inmates. There was no more need for heroics and we accepted seven of the prospects and put the other on standby. The seven appeared to be similar to the previous day's group. We had six Caucasian, five African-American, and three Hispanic candidates. We gave out thirty pages of reading material and set a date for our first weekend workshop with all fourteen of our prospective counselors.
On our drive back to St. Louis, J.J., Sonia, and I had a convivial conversation about our work and the weekend. I dropped J.J. off first and then Sonia. Sonia thanked me again for assisting her on Saturday and I responded, "And thank you for saving my life."
Chapter 13
REBECCA
I hung up the phone and shouted, "Yes! Now we got him. It matches."
"Huh?" Jerry looked up from his book. "Yes, what?"
"The DNA! Joe Carson's DNA matches Debbie Morehouse's. Damnit, Jerry, you know I've been waiting for this for a week."
"At least be more quiet, you'll wake April."
"Too late, look," I pointed at April coming down the stairs holding her blankey. I rushed over to the stairs and picked her up just as Plato licked her face. "Sorry, Punkin, I didn't mean to wake you up." She just opened her arms to be picked up. I carried her over to the table where Jerry was reading. As I sat down near him, April snuggled up to me.
I answered Jerry, "That was Len Stewart from the District Attorney's office in Belleville. Ruth Morehouse's DNA matches Father Joe Carson's. Now we can nail the bastard." I scrunched up my face for using the swear word in front of April, but went on, "So, how do you think we should proceed with this now? I have four victims and one other witness who will testify and a possible fifth victim. And now I have confirmation that he is the father of Debbie Morehouse."
Jerry stroked his chin—his substitute for the pipe he smoked for twenty years and quit right before we got married. It seemed to take him forever before he responded, "Remember that the Bishop of Belleville helped you get Carson's DNA sample from his coffee cup?" I nodded. "So, my first thought is that you should visit with the bishop and tell him about the evidence. Maybe take Jack Carroll and Len Stewart with you. I'll join you if you wish. Then decide, with the bishop and DA how to proceed. I would sure like to see Carson in prison and the Morehouse mother and daughter get some financial help, so .... What do you think?"
"Len said we could get the police in Belleville to arrest him tomorrow and book him. Why wait? Oh, and could Jack get permission to go with us? He hasn't been pardoned yet, has he?"
"No, I don't think so, but with Dan's help, he has a lot of freedom these days. And I think we should wait because he might post bail and it would make all the papers and be a real problem for the Morehouse women, the bishop, and other priests of the diocese. I would like to see it all handled as humanely as possible for the sake of everyone involved, even Joe Carson, who doesn't deserve it. But I don't want us to stoop to his level. It has been simmering for years, why jump too quickly now? And Bishop Rider has been a big help to us. If you like, I'll call him to set up a meeting. Oh, and who would you like to go with you?"
Just as we pulled into the Belleville Catholic Chancery Office, Len Stewart got a call that Ruth and Debbie Morehouse had skipped town and left no forwarding address, nor told anyone where they were going. Before getting out of the car Marie Sorrel called and gave me the name and address of another current victim of Joe Carroll's who lived right here in Belleville. I thought we should meet with the bishop anyway.
Len Stewart, Jack Carroll, and I entered the Chancery Office. Jack was more nervous than I'd ever seen him, but he managed to look calm. He chuckled and then muttered, "This place is a bit different from the institutions I'm used to."
I whispered back, "Don't worry, I was here a couple of weeks ago and they were quite nice. There weren't even any armed guards."
"Very funny," Jack whispered back.
We were greeted by the same attractive young woman at the front desk that I met earlier. Being in the lead, I said, "Hi, Sandy, I'm Rebecca Brady. We met two weeks ago, remember?" She nodded and I introduced Jack Carroll.
Sandy said, "I'll tell Father Newberry that you are here. He'll escort you to the bishop's office. Wait just a moment." She picked up the phone and punched in a number and soon the same young priest as before, arrived. Newberry was shocked to see, whom he thought was Father Carson, in street clothes. "Uh, Father, you're a bit casual today for a meeting with the Bishop, aren't you?"
Jack chuckled and looked down at his sports shirt and jacket, and said, "Isn't this casual Friday?" he was obviously beginning to enjoy himself.
Father Newberry stammered, "No, Father, it's Thursday."
Jack chuckled again and said, "I know, I'm often mistaken for my twin brother, Father Joe Carson. I believe Rebecca introduced me as Jack Carroll, didn't she?"
Newberry stammered again, "Uh, I just thought that she forgot your name, or something. I didn't know Father Carson had a twin. Come this way."
Jack whispered to the priest, "Let's not tell the bishop and see if he notices the similarity, okay?"
As before, I was rather amazed at how similar the layout of this diocesan office was to a commanding general's headquarters in an Air Force base I'd visited a few years ago. I remembered Jerry's comment that the Catholic hierarchy was patterned after the Roman Empire's military.
Bishop Mark Rider stood as we entered and took my hand in both of his, then shook Len Stewart's hand. He looked at Jack and seemed a bit stunned. "Uh, Joe, you've lost some weight, haven't you? And, uh, why are you dressed like this?" He touched Jack's jacket.
"I'm not Joe Carson, Bishop. I'm Jack Carroll. Joe is my identical twin brother. He changed his name several years ago. I believe he was more than a bit ashamed of me."
"Please sit down, all of you." He sat down behind his large desk and folded his hands over his flat stomach." He looked at me and said, "Rebecca, I do wish you would have forew
arned me about Jack. This is most embarrassing. Will someone please explain this to me?" He sounded a bit angry.
Adding to his irritation, he sounded more than a bit pompous as he scolded me. I said, "I'm sorry, Bishop, if this offended you. Jack asked that I not tell you in advance. It is his own private joke. He asked me if you were a regular people kind of person and I said 'yes'. So, I guess I was, and am, mistaken." I smiled what I hoped was my most engaging smile. I turned to Jack and asked him to tell Bishop Rider a bit of his story.
Before Jack could begin, Bishop Rider said, "Okay, I guess I should apologize. The joke is on me and I must admit that I have caught the ecclesiastic pompous fever. I swore I would never do that; I better renew my earlier vows. So, Jack, please do fill me in."
"Okay, Bishop. Last November, I asked Rebecca to help me find out if Joe Carroll, now Carson, has been molesting children, and if he is, how we might stop him. I had heard from a reliable witness in prison that Joe was a pedophile, and that he was on some kind of list to become a bishop. The latter was an important reason to hurry up with the investigation. Rebecca has done extremely well in helping me. In only two months, she has uncovered a great deal of evidence proving that Joe is, indeed, a pedophile."
"You mentioned you learned this in prison. Are you an official in some prison?"
"An official?" Jack chuckled. "I guess you could say that. I'm serving a twenty-four-year sentence in a Missouri state prison for killing our father, Stephen Carroll. He was drunk and for the umpteenth time beating our mother. I shot him. Joe watched me do this and I guess he couldn't stand being the brother of a killer, so he left home, changed his name, and became a priest. The day I shot Dad was the last time I've seen my brother." Jack took a deep breath and exhaled a bit too loudly. Len and I understood and I hoped the bishop did, also. "Oh, and I understand that the governor of Missouri, has promised our warden to pardon me next month. I'm looking forward to not being a prison 'official'."
