The Prison Inside Me

by Gilbert Brown

  “OK,” continued Dawes, “OK, just for you, I’ll give you two more days on this to bring something that will convince the DA to go to the grand jury. But this is out of respect for your previous achievements in this division and for that great sense of smell you have for potential felonies. Two days, do you hear? Not a day more! We gotta get these other two matters closed before they run away from us and we get reamed in the news for ignoring community problems!”

  Szysmanski sighed in resignation. “Harry, you’ve been watching too many Westerns on TV. You are now a believer in posse justice. Like the cowboy who runs home to his mother—‘Hide me, Mom. I just killed a man.’ ‘Son, did he need killin’?’ But you gotta excuse me; that’s not my idea of justice or why I joined the detective division, that someone ‘needed killin’.’ Somehow, she is complicit in what he has been doing. She knew all along he was a pedophile and never did anything to stop him. If he is a felon for what he did to kids, then she is also for abetting his felonies. She deserves to be put away, too. I can’t get over my feeling that the misery he caused so many kids, locked in the silence of their tormented minds for as long as they live, is not just his crime but hers too. I may not be able to prove that she knew all along of his habits, but I sure can prove that she killed him. I hope I can do that in two days. And if that will get her put away, some sense of justice will be served.

  “I know I can’t go against your wishes, Harry, the way you run the division, something I have always admired. And, yeah, all this is off the record, as it has always been when we discuss things in here, now fully erased from memory. Well, almost, because it’s gonna eat at me for the rest of my life just as if I were one of those kids Nichols abused.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Susan mixed herself a large batch of martinis. She sat at George’s desk in the study and slowly drank the first one she poured from the shaker. She thought of Markson’s advice to speak to no one without him present. “The police are trying to hang one on you, but they have nothing to go on, just a few worthless hearsay stories that don’t concern you. There’s not even a motive for you to be involved. You had no knowledge of George’s habits. This whole thing will blow over when they get tired, when other more pressing cases draw them away from this suicide. I’ve spoken to the DA, and she’s not the least bit interested. There’s no case here. People will forget about it, too. They’ll be sorry about the news of his pedophilia, but all will think it’s a suicide from feelings of guilt, despite anything the police or the press may say. It’s all suspicion, no proof. Just hang in there; don’t speak to anyone, not even your kids. If anyone is curious, tell them that I’ve told you not to say anything. We are a country of laws, and you have the right to have a lawyer represent you. Soon you’ll sell the house, move away, maybe nearer Caroline, and live the rest of your life in peace.”

  Susan knew that no one but the three of them—she, Trey, and George, who was no more—had any knowledge of George’s abuse of Trey. She told Markson that she never knew George was doing these things at the camp all these years. His behavior was normal; he was hardworking, he cared for his daughter and son, he was very kind to her, and they had a great life as partners in business.

  She thought back to her luncheon with Trey. “All those nice girls you are dating. When are you going to choose one and help out your sister and give us some more grandchildren?” She remembered Trey’s very long, hard, and cold stare as she waited, seemingly endlessly, for his answer. His face suddenly softened as he looked down at the table, unable to hold his eyes on hers. “Mom, I don’t know how to tell you this. I’ve never told anyone. I don’t know anyone well enough to tell them. I read up on what I am facing and even went to see a psychiatrist. I couldn’t bring myself to face it, even with him. I never went back for a second session.”

  Susan almost cut him off at this point. She knew what he was about to tell her. An empty feeling reached her stomach. She felt she was about to vomit. Trey continued, but she barely heard him. Her thoughts and hearing turned inward as he spoke. What have I done? You, too, Trey? Don’t you see that I did this to you, to everyone, to myself? I did it for love of your father. Liar! You did it for love of yourself! It was pure selfishness, pure self-gratification, and you knew all along you were doing it when you could have done something else, something noble, something brave, something that needed to be done. And now, your baby is about to tell you that it is too late, that you’re the one who should pay the penalty, not George. Oh, Susan, it’s all lost; there is no going back!

  She never stopped staring at Trey as he finished speaking. “I have to tell someone, someone I love, someone I trust, because I can’t love or trust anyone anymore. That’s you, only you, Mom, not even Dad, not even Caroline, whom I love with all my strength. How I love those two nieces of mine, too. You must not let this happen to them! I’m sorry, Mom; I can’t love anyone else. I think about this a lot—if I can tell someone, maybe the healing will start; maybe I can begin again; maybe I can learn to love and trust someone again. Maybe if I tell you, I can start the life you gave me all over again. Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry to burden you with this, all the wonders you have done for me all these years, all the unconditional love you gave me that I just can’t share with anyone else. Mom, please don’t hate me for it. It’s not Dad’s fault. He was good to me, too, and I love him. He’s my father. Mom, you must promise me that this is just between us, you helping me, and that Dad will never know!”

  Susan’s attention was fixed on Trey’s eyes. She made no response. Her thoughts again turned inward. What a business. No one knows. But I know. I know what I’ve done, how many lives I helped ruin, and now Trey. What’s wrong with me? I trained in this business. I knew, I knew, I knew all along. I was a partner in this crime.

  She thought of her attempt to comfort her son. My darling son, thanks for sharing with me this most difficult problem that has plagued you all your life. I had no idea. I love you, and I always will. We are going to continue with this to find a solution that will let you live the full life I want for you. No, Dad won’t know; he doesn’t have to. But, just as your mother made things right all your life, together we are going to make things right again. I want you to think of me often and discuss this with me in those thoughts. We, you and I, are going to solve this together. I love you.

  Susan stared blankly at the desk and at the vial in front of her. Her thoughts turned away from the shock of the lunch with Trey and her decision to punish George, to avenge Trey, to start the atonement for what she had done, too, for what she had aided, for the ruin she and George had made of so many lives, now of someone she loved.

  OK, now I’ve made things as right as I could. If George deserved punishment, how about me? Where did all those great suicide plans go when you first thought of killing George and then yourself? I am a study in cowardice. It only took one second to stand up from the vanity, change my mind, and get the gloves. You don’t need gloves to kill yourself. She smiled internally as she thought this.

  Except for me. I didn’t want to die that way, anyway. I killed George for what he did to Trey—and to me, too. He deserved the death penalty for what he did to my baby. She paused, looking down at her lap. Just me and Trey? How about those countless other kids all these years who he also affected? And their miserable families? Are they just nobodies compared to Trey? Are they going through what I’m going through now? Trey is only one. George and I have bequeathed this world dozens of Treys. Now that’s one great accomplishment, the accomplishment that will go on accomplishing. And you played a wonderful supporting role in this drama. You deserve an Academy Award! Hey, Susan, take heart. George also did great good for hundreds of kids with his years of math tutoring. On the whole, so we lost a few, but look at all the ones that we’ve saved, that we’ve gained! Hey, in business, this is called “cost/benefit.” Some business we were in.

  Susan all but laughed to herself at this thought.

  Wild! Ge
orge’s malady goes on in Trey. Like father, like son, only in George’s case it was like uncle, like nephew. Maybe like teacher pedophile, like student.

  Again she smiled at this thought.

  Shooting myself is not at all attractive. I have this desire to die in my sleep. It’s so much more peaceful and humane. Oh, Susan, how could you have destroyed your life like this? What made you sit down next to him that day at the quad? God, why did you do this to me? Some joke, blame Him. I was just an innocent bystander, as Markson says. Only I am worse than George. If he gets the death penalty, what do I get?

  Susan was now on her third martini. She poured out her sleeping pills on the desk from the vial. Slowly she counted them, twenty-four. If I meted out George’s penance, who will mete out mine?