“Then what is Ms. Ross talking about, saying that Mr. Calhoun doesn’t know what he was doing in that church at the time he was apprehended? It sounds like a mental examination is necessary to me.”
I silently cursed my mother. “She simply means that the defendant, Mr. Calhoun, doesn’t usually attend church, so he didn’t know why he would be in there. She didn’t mean that he doesn't remember going in there or anything like that.”
“But Ms. Ross, the police report states that he told the police that he had no recollection of going into that church,” Judge McFarland said, looking carefully at the police report. “I think that I should order a mental examination, just to be safe.”
I groaned. That was the last thing I wanted. The last thing. The only thing that I could have possibly hoped for was that my Uncle could fake being sane enough to go to trial. But I wondered if I was going to be pressured to try for a NGRI plea, even if I didn’t want to do that.
“Thank you, your honor,” was all that I thought to say.
“Okay. Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to order that the defendant’s bond be one million five hundred thousand, 10%, the conditions of the bond will be that the defendant remains in custody with Mrs. Claire Ross, that he be fitted with an ankle monitor, that he not leave the premises of Mrs. Ross’ home, except for court-ordered appearances, and that he not have any contact with any known felons, and that he submit to a mental examination as soon as possible. It is so ordered.” He banged the gavel and called his next case.
“That’s good, right?” Uncle Jack whispered. “That’s good.”
“I guess,” I said, as we walked back to the jury box, where my Uncle sat back down. “I guess it’s good. I don’t know yet. I don’t know if it’s a good thing that you’ve been ordered to have a mental examination or not. We’ll have to see if that turns out good.”
“Oh, I’m not even talking about that, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll act as sane as rain. I’ll make sure that I’m the one who’s talking to the doc, not Jack, and we’ll all get through that with flying colors. But I’m talking about the fact that I’m going to stay with your mother before trial. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It is a good thing. That means that you don’t have to stay behind bars.”
“Oh, good. Good. I really can’t stand this hideous uniform that they make us wear, and that food in there isn’t fit for a dog. I didn’t even feed my dog, Toby, food like that. But I did meet a cute guy in there.” He smiled and winked. “So there’s that.”
“Well, that’s lovely,” I said, not thinking about anything else that I could say. “Um, okay, then.”
He smiled and laughed as the guard led him out. “I’ll be seeing you later, doll. I guess you’re going to be the one who will pick me up, won’t you?”
“I will.”
I shook my head as he was led away, and then I turned and saw my mother. She was looking bright and happy. She waved her fist in the air, as if she was saying “good going,” and then she turned and walked out of the courtroom. I closely followed her.
“You did a remarkable job in there, Harper,” she said. “Just remarkable.”
I sighed. “I guess. I don’t know how we’re going to get around this, though, mother. I don’t know. It seems that neither Jack nor Mick seems to know what happened to Father Kennedy. Neither personality seems to know how Jack got there in the first place. That means that there must have been some other alter who walked into that church. Some other alter who knows what happened in there. Do you think that Eli came back into the picture? If so, how do we bring him out?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess. But wouldn’t Mick know about it, even if it was a different alter? I don’t know, I’ve spoken with therapists about this through the years, and sometimes the alters all know what the other alters are up to, even if the person himself doesn’t know.”
“Sometimes. Not always.”
I had a feeling that I was going to soon get a good education on all of this.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Axel,” I said, as we dried dishes after dinner that night. “Have you ever known anybody at all that led a double life?”
He shrugged. “In what way, mate?”
“Well, not somebody with different personalities, per se. You already told me that you’ve never come across that. But maybe somebody who just has two different lives. The family man who visits prostitutes, maybe, or the church-goer who kills people. That sort of thing.”
“All the time,” he said. “Most of the people that I end up apprehending are perfectly normal, upstanding people in their daily lives. But they have a nasty side to them. A brutal, nasty side to them.”
“I wonder about that,” I said. “How can they do that? How can they, say, look their spouse in the eye, and tell their spouse that they love them, and then go out and sleep with someone else? Or, worse, how can they have a family or go to church or play with their children, and then go and brutally murder somebody? What causes people to do things like that?”
“People are broken inside,” he said. “Things have happened to them, and they compartmentalize those tragedies and hurts that they experience in their earlier days. They have a side to them, a side that is hidden, but comes to the light when they’re triggered. That’s why Ted Bundy was able to seem so normal to so many people, yet become a wild animal when nobody was looking. Did you know that Ted Bundy worked at a suicide hotline? People there thought that he was so caring, so affable, so concerned about their lives. And he probably was. That was one aspect of who he was – the nice, concerned guy. The other aspect was the brutal killer. And I, for one, think that both aspects were him. That he was a really nice guy, but that he had a side that was…not so nice. To say the least.”
“So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that nobody is all one or the other. That when Ted Bundy was talking to the people in crisis, talking them off the ledge, he wasn’t hiding that brutal monster inside during those times. He really was the caring person that he showed to the world. That brutal monster was a distinct other facet of his personality, and, while he was the brutal monster, there was no part of him that was the kind Ted who his co-workers encountered.”
“I wonder if he had DID.”
“No.” Axel shook his head. “I’ve read books about him. There was no indication that he told anybody about different personalities, or that he came out and said that he was somebody else. He just had two very distinct facets of his personality. There are people like that. Lots of people like that. You can be a good church-goer bloke and be a lover of prostitutes, and not be a hypocrite. You just have two distinct facets of your personality, and never the twain shall meet. So the church-goer bloke who visits the prostitutes probably doesn’t feel guilty when he visits these prostitutes, because that facet of his personality doesn’t have those guilt feelings. And when that same man is in church, he doesn’t necessarily feel like lusting after every woman he sees – that part of him is exclusively reserved for those nights that he goes and visits the prostitutes. At least, that’s the theory that I have for people.”
“Interesting. I guess that’s one way of looking at it. It’s an interesting theory, I’ll give you that.”
“Why do you ask?”
I sighed and put the glasses back in the cupboard, one by one. “I ask because, well, my Uncle. I don’t know what to think about him. I don’t know if there was maybe a personality who killed that priest. I wouldn’t think so. From what I understand, Mick, who is my Uncle’s homosexual alter, was having a love affair with Father Kennedy. I need to speak with him some more about it, which I can, because he’s staying with my mother. But he was having a love affair. Why would Mick kill him? As for Jack, I don’t think that Jack even knew that priest. I don’t think that he did. So, which one of Jack’s personalities would have motive to kill Father Kennedy? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
“Who are his other personaliti
es?”
“I only know of one other one. His name was Eli. As far as I know, though, Eli hasn’t been around since Jack was a young boy. Eli came out to protect Jack when he was suffering from the after-effects of something brutal that he endured when he was a young boy. Eli was a tough guy with tattoos, who drank, smoke and took drugs. He talked tough. He was tough. Jack was a sensitive young boy. Actually, the Jack that I had always known was sensitive and kind. Not a rough and tumble bone in his body. He never had a bad word for anybody, ever. That was who he was. Eli was very different from that.”
As I put the dishes away, one by one, my mind wandered to Jack and Eli and Mick. I wondered if there was anybody else in there. Perhaps Eli killed the priest? If so, why? What kind of beef would Eli have with the priest? Or maybe it was Mick. Maybe they had a lover’s quarrel? That would make sense to me, really. Perhaps Father Kennedy did something that sent Mick into a rage? I couldn’t imagine that Jack, himself, would have killed the priest. I didn’t see the connection between Jack and the priest. Jack had never been religious. I don’t think that he had ever been inside a church in his life.
“What are you thinking, lass?” Axel asked me as he came up behind me and put his arms around my waist.
“I don’t know. I’m just…thinking. It’s all so weird what happened.” I turned around and put my arms around his neck and I kissed him. His lips were soft, and so were his cheeks. He kissed me back, and then kissed my forehead and leaned into me on the sink.
“Get a room,” Rina said, coming into the kitchen.
“Don’t you have homework to do?” I asked her.
“I guess. Abby does. Plus, she has to practice her flute. You have to tell her that she can’t quit band just because James is a tool. You bought her that instrument, mom, and she can’t quit. You just go in there and tell her.”
“What? Abby is thinking about quitting band?”
“Of course. I don’t want to say I told you so, but I told you so. She only wanted in band because James is in band. And now that James has shown his full tool colors, she wants out of band. She doesn’t want to have to face him every day.”
I sighed. Looks like there was another crisis for me to face. As crises go, though, this one seemed rather minor. Of course I wasn’t going to let Abby quit band. She had been practicing her flute every single day, and she was getting better and better. She was no longer last chair, but, rather, was third chair. Considering there were nine flute players, all girls, that was remarkable. She had really made quite a lot of progress in a short period of time. I wasn’t going to let her stop that progress by quitting.
I went into the living room, where Abby was watching television. She was on the colorful throw rug, her little hands on her cheeks, and, from time to time, she kept lowering her face into the ground and I could hear little sobs coming from her.
“Abby,” I said softly. I sat down next to her on the floor and I stroked her back. “Buttercup, talk to me. Rina says that you’re thinking about quitting the band.”
She said nothing, but just nodded.
“You can’t quit. You love it. You’re really good, Buttercup. You really are. I’ve listened to you, and I’ve been hearing that you’ve been getting better and better. You’ve made a lot of progress. You can’t quit.”
She got up and put her arms around my neck and she sobbed. I put my arms around her and felt her little body shake while I held her. I stroked her hair while she cried.
“I can’t go back to that band room, mom. She’s there. James’ new girlfriend, Emmaline. I walk into the band room and they’re sitting there together, holding hands. You don’t know how it feels, mom. I don’t have any friends in the band, yet. There’s nobody that I can talk to about it. It’s the end of the world, mom. I just can’t watch them anymore.”
That was a tough one. I had been there. Who hadn’t been there before? Seeing the person that you loved and cared about with somebody else? There had been many songs sung about just this kind of situation. No matter what age you are, the degree of heartbreak was the same. Whether you were 12, like Abby, or 82, seeing the person you love with somebody else is the ultimate in heartbreak.
Yet, I couldn’t just let her quit. She would possibly regret that for the rest of her life. She was going to miss out on playing at football games. She was going to miss out on local, regional and national competitions. She was going to miss out on taking band trips overseas. Being in the band was an experience that I never forgot. I played a flute for several years myself, and I always had the memories that stayed with me. It was important to be a part of something, and that was what Abby was – she was a part of something.
“Abby, I’m so sorry, Buttercup, but I can’t let you quit. I spent a lot of money on that instrument, and you love doing it. You’re getting really good at it. You might be first chair sometime soon, which means that you’ll be getting solos. You have potential, little girl. I know how tough it is to see James with another girlfriend, but you have to look at the big picture. One day James is going to be a distant memory, but the memories that you build with some of your other band mates are going to be memories that you’re going to have forever.”
“Okay,” she said. “I need to go to bed, mom. Is that okay?”
“Of course.”
She trudged upstairs and shut the door. I went over to Axel, who was sitting on the couch. “Poor little Abby,” I said. “I know how hard it is to like somebody so much, and have them not like you back. I really thought that she and James were good together. I can’t believe that he’s such a damned heel.”
Axel grinned. “Ah, young love. Young heartbreak. Who hasn’t been there at one time or another? But Abby will get through this. She’ll get through this, and you can’t let her quit band. She needs to know that just quitting something isn’t an option. You need to always stick it through.”
Rina came up to me. “Give me the clicker,” she said. “The shows that Abby watches are so lame. I need to see what’s on the DVR.”
I threw her the clicker and she sat down on the leather recliner and flipped through the channels. I smiled at Axel, and the two of us went upstairs to my room. “Rina, I’m going to check on you in about an hour. You better be ready for bed by then.”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes.
At that, Axel and I went upstairs to my room.
CHAPTER NINE
I knew that I was going to have to do a stringent investigation of my Uncle Jack’s case. An investigation that would be more thorough than anything I had ever done before. I was determined that I was going to see my Uncle Jack acquitted.
But first, I was going to have to figure out a way around him passing his psychological exam. The last thing that I wanted was for him to be declared unfit for trial, or be forced, by the trial judge, to try for a NGRI finding. I wanted this trial to go, because I wanted to make sure that Uncle Jack went completely free. I had the feeling that he didn’t do it. I also wondered if there was another personality, a hidden personality, who knew exactly what happened in that rectory.
I went over to see him at my mother’s house. Albany was going to meet me there. She told me that she had some news about Jack. She also told me that she had some news about Steven. News that she thought that I should know.
Knowing Albany, that could mean anything. It could mean that she had concrete evidence about Steven, Uncle Jack’s abductor. It could also mean that she was going to claim to have been in touch with Steven’s ghost. Albany was known for doing things like this. She was forever claiming to have been in touch with spirits and angels and things that go bump in the night. She had her own personal psychic. She was always giving me crystals that she said were blessed by her psychic, and she wanted me to carry these crystals with me at all times.
I even went to a psychic with her one time. It was pretty much as I expected – they even had a crystal ball in there. The psychic, whose name was Lady Starlight, or something of the sort, tried to sell me two spec
ial candles. They were red and, according to Lady Starlight, they were blessed. They were also $1,500. She told me that if I burned these candles every night, I would get an acquittal on the case I was working on back then. She guaranteed it. “Your guardian angel has chains around her,” she said. “She needs to be released. If you release her, by burning these candles, then everything that your heart desires will be yours.”
Needless to say, I didn’t part with that money. Albany, however, did, and she insisted that burning these candles helped her find the job of her dreams. It also helped her relationship with the man who she was seeing at that time. They broke up two weeks later, but, for one brief shining moment, they were together again. Albany said it was because she burned her candles.
I had no idea how much money Albany spent on candles and crystals and tarot readings and magic stones. I imagined that it was quite a lot. Not that I was going to get on her about that. It was really none of my business. She made decent money as a therapy masseuse and acupuncturist, so I had no cause to criticize her. To each her own.
I got to my mother’s house and Jack came out to greet me. “Doll,” he said, his voice in the same high-pitched cadence that he had affected ever since that day in jail when he insisted that I call him Mick. “Come here, you.”
I went over to him and gave him a big hug. “It’s so good to see you, uh, Mick.”
“And you. I’m not in that hideous jump suit because of you. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.”
Mick was dressed in khaki slacks and a long-sleeved white golf shirt. His grey hair was newly cut, slightly shaggy in the front and longer in the back. He looked like my Uncle Jack, but he wasn’t. I knew this.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Oh, I know. I know. I need to talk to you, too.”
We went into my mother’s house, and I followed him into the sun room. “Where’s Albany?” I asked him, looking around.
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