Betrayal of Justice

by Mark M Bello

  Sure, folks, that would have been great. Gerry would have loved it. “Were you and Julius members?”

  “All our lives,” Pearl reminisced. “Julie and I have lived in Berea all our lives. We were high school sweethearts.” She smiled at the memory.

  “Is that right? Pat and Pamela live here all their lives too?”

  “Yes, they did,” she brightened. “And they were high school sweethearts too. Isn’t that something?”

  “It sure is,” Micah prodded. “Considering their roots here, their leaving so abruptly must have been quite a shock to both of you. Julius, have you done anything to try and locate them?”

  Julius opened his mouth in surprise at having a question directed at him.

  Pearl interrupted. “No, we’ve decided to respect their privacy, as much as it hurts. When they’re ready to see us or share their lives with us again, they’ll call.”

  “But they’d both lived here all their lives. Wasn’t leaving difficult?” Micah probed.

  “Didn’t seem to be. Pat got transferred one week, and the next they were gone,” Pearl reflected.

  “Did you know the MacLean family? Apparently, they were friends with your son and daughter-in-law.”

  “Yes, we knew them very well. John MacLean and Pat worked together. John was transferred along with Pat.”

  “Same location?”

  “I don’t know. Pat hasn’t mentioned them since he moved.” Pearl drifted off to a faraway place—Florida, perhaps? A tear welled in her eye. She blinked it away and smiled. Julius stared into space and remained silent.

  “Two lifelong residents of Berea suddenly get transferred out of town at the same time, probably to the same place, with no time to get their affairs in order, in the middle of a school year, and no time to say goodbye properly to their families. Strange, don’t you think? Without a whimper of protest from anyone, don’t you think that’s strange, Julius?” Micah prompted.

  “No, we don’t,” Pearl interrupted again, just as Julius opened his mouth. “Transfers happen in business, or so I’m told. The company bought their house, bought them a new house. Pat claimed everything was all set up for them. They didn’t need much time to get acclimated.” Julius shot Pearl an unpleasant glance.

  “What company does your son worked for?”

  “Stone Tablet Publications. They publish books, computer programs, apps, that sort of thing.”

  “What does your son do for them?”

  “Pat’s a computer whiz. He develops software,” she boasted.

  “What kind of software?”

  “Stone Tablet is a religious publications company. Pat develops religious software for children to use on their home computers. The Old Testament stuff he created is amazing. Bible stories come right to life on your computer or tablet screen. The children learn while they have fun. My son also helped to develop the company website. He’s very talented. We’re proud of him.”

  “I’m sure you are. Do you know who owns Stone Tablet?”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “Company still in town?”

  “It’s never been in town. It’s in Toledo.”

  “About the time Pat and Pam announced they were going to be transferred, had you noticed anything strange or different about them or the boys, what were their names?”

  “The boys’ names were Jordan, Matthew, and Justin. I’m not sure what you mean,” Pearl snorted.

  “Were the boys angry, unusually quiet, upset about the move, anything you may have noticed? A bad attitude, perhaps?” Micah continued to probe.

  “Well, if you were a teenager and suddenly told you were leaving the town you grew up in, all your friends and your grandparents and you weren’t even given a week to say goodbye, wouldn’t you be upset?” Pearl reasoned.

  “Were they?”

  “Of course they were,” she argued.

  “No, they weren’t, Pearl.” Julius had heard enough.

  “They certainly were. They were angry and extremely quiet when they came to say goodbye,” she recalled.

  “True, but that’s exactly how they’d been acting for at least six months before they moved,” Julius insisted.

  “That’s not so,” Pearl demanded. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

  “They hadn’t uttered a word to us in six months,” Julius bristled. “Something was terribly wrong, but we couldn’t get the boys or Pat or Pam to talk to us. Suddenly, they were gone, transferred, no forwarding information. What the hell?” Julius trembled.

  “Have you tried talking to anyone at the company?” Micah probed. Keep talking!

  “Yes, and they don’t have an office in Florida, dammit! Apparently, my son lied to us. The company claims Pat came in one day, without notice, and quit his job. I don’t know where my son is, Mr. Love. I don’t know whether he’s in Florida or somewhere else. I don’t know who you are or why you’re interested in my son and his family. But, find him, Mr. Love. And while you're at it, find out why he did this and what’s wrong with my grandsons. I’m begging you!” Julius cried.

  “I’ll do my best,” Micah promised. “I’ll need all the information you have, photographs, birth certificates, Social Security numbers, license plate numbers, school records on the kids, credit card numbers, anything.”

  “You shall have it.” Julius wore the pants, after all.

  “How often does your son call you, Mr. O’Connell?”

  “That’s the one thing he’s reasonably good about. He calls once a week from a blocked number.”

  “Good. We’ll install unblocking equipment right away. If he calls, we’ll be able to find out the area code and number he’s calling from.”

  “Really? You can do that?” Pearl marveled. “Modern technology is incredible. I’m so proud of my Pat. He’s up on all the latest technology. He helped create . . .” Pearl trailed off, in pain.

  Micah rose to leave.

  “Find my son, Mr. Love. I’ll be forever in your debt,” Julius implored.

  Julius rose and reached out to shake Micah’s hand. The meeting was over. Micah reached out and shook his hand. It was trembling, ice cold. A winter chill shot up Micah’s spine. He walked down the porch stairs. It was hot as hell outside. The chill was immediately a memory. He glanced at his Movado, 4:00 p.m. He still had time to see Pat’s brother and Pam’s sister, if he could catch them in.

  He thought about Jessica—a breath of fresh air in this hell-forsaken town. He’d enjoy dinner tonight. First, though, he’d find out all he could about the disappearance of Pat and Pam O’Connell and their family. It was necessary for the case, but also for Julius, this sad old man, made to stand by, in silence, while the church destroyed his relationship with his children and grandchildren. If only this staunch supporter knew the truth. His life was being destroyed by the organization’s stubborn refusal to eradicate pedophilia rather than cover it up.

  Micah was certain Pat and Pam were transferred and paid off by the church, and sure their children were Gerry’s victims. If he could find them and persuade them to testify, he’d blow the lid sky-high off this scandal. He had to find this family. Lives could depend upon him. Julius and Pearl deserved answers.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Jake Tracey was late for class. He rushed down the hall, focused on getting to his destination, scarcely aware of his surroundings. He carried a load of books under his arm. A student Kenny’s age, much bigger than Jake, came up behind him and pushed all the books out of his arm. They scattered all over the floor. Jake was already late. Now he was angry. He stared down his attacker, two years Jake’s senior, five inches taller, and fifty pounds heavier.

  “Pick those up,” Jake demanded.

  “Make me,” mocked the bully.

  Jake charged at him, and the kid stepped aside like a matador sidestepping a bull. He stuck his foot out and tripped Jake as he went by.

  “Faggot,” the bully grumbled. “When’s your next camping trip?”

  Jake stared at hi
m in disbelief. Did the whole school know? Was he bluffing? Guessing? Or did all the kids know about his and Kenny’s encounter with Father Gerry? Jake was beyond furious. He charged the boy again and met a roundhouse right fist to the jaw that knocked him to the ground. He was dazed, confused, and disoriented, and he was in serious pain. A counselor happened by and found Jake lying in the hallway. He took him to the counseling center and called his mother. Jake was beside himself in grief and pain and in near hysterics. He was demanding to see his brother, so the counselor decided to call Kenny out of class. Kenny arrived before Jennifer. He took one look at his brother and began to fume.

  “Jake, who did this to you?” Kenny sputtered.

  “Drew Moss,” Jake sobbed, relieved to see his brother.

  “His ass is mine,” Kenny threatened, furious.

  “Hold your horses, young man,” the counselor cautioned. “Your mom is on her way. We’ll deal with Drew. He’ll be punished, suspended, and he’ll never bother Jake again. But more violence is not going to solve anything.”

  “I promised my brother I would never let anyone hurt him ever again,” cried an enraged Kenny.

  His anger turned to shame. He addressed his younger brother. “Jake, I am so sorry I let you down again.”

  “What could you have done, Kenny?” Jake consoled. “You were in class. You weren’t there.”

  “I should have been. We knew this would happen. Nobody can help us. We’ve got to help ourselves!” Kenny shouted. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He turned to the counselor.

  “Are we free to go?”

  “As soon as your mom gets here. You boys can go home with her,” the counselor soothed, a calm voice in a growing storm.

  The counselor briefed Jennifer as soon as she arrived. He told her about the altercation, the punch, and the offensive language and behavior that sent Jake into hysterics. She demonstrated a brave front but was dying inside. How much pain must my boys endure? Is this how it is going to be from now on? Will we have to transfer to a different school? She was glad they had an upcoming appointment with Rothenberg. She spoke briefly to the counselor, who assured her swift and severe punishment was coming to young Mr. Moss. Jennifer signed the necessary “child released early” papers and took her boys home.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kenny and Jake Tracey arrived at Dr. Rothenberg’s office for their weekly session. Therapy was going well. The boys were making remarkable progress. Rothenberg videotaped all sessions at Zack’s suggestion so a potential jury could see their pain and track their very gradual healing, the slow release of their anger and sense of betrayal.

  On this particular day, Rothenberg began by asking the boys to discuss anything they wanted. They always came together and stayed together, ignoring any suggestion that individual or private sessions might be preferable.

  “How’s it going, guys? Good to see you, again,” Rothenberg began.

  “Okay, I guess,” Kenny murmured for both of them. He did that in session, quite often.

  “What do you want to talk about today?” Rothenberg prompted.

  “I don’t know, nothing, I guess. Why do we have to come here, anyway?” Kenny protested.

  “You don’t like coming here, Kenny? What about you, Jake?” Rothenberg wondered.

  “No,” answered Kenny.

  “Not sure,” Jake grunted.

  “I realize we sometimes discuss unpleasant things, but I thought we’d reached an understanding that discussing them helped you guys. You don’t believe that anymore?”

  “We discuss the same crap over and over. Nothing’s changed. I still feel the same way. Father Gerry’s a bad man, an animal. I’ll never forget or forgive what he did to my brother and me. Why do we have to talk about this all the time?”

  “Yeah,” Jake mimed, as usual, after a Kenny rant.

  “Well, Kenny, I can certainly understand your reluctance to forgive Father Gerry, but have you been able to forgive yourself?” This struck a nerve.

  “Forgive myself?” cried Kenny. “He hurt both of us. I let my brother down because I was afraid. I should have stopped this guy! It’s my fault! I knew, but I couldn’t move. Some shithead called my brother ‘faggot’ in school and punched him in the face! What did Jake do to deserve that? I should have been there to protect him,” He sobbed. “I’m really sorry, Jake. How can I protect him, Doc? How can I prevent people from hurting my little brother?” Kenny demanded.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Kenny,” Jake consoled. “It was Gerry’s.”

  “Listen to him, Kenny,” Rothenberg pleaded. “Your little brother makes a lot of sense. He doesn’t blame you. Why blame yourself?”

  “He doesn’t understand!” Kenny screamed. “He’s too little.”

  “Sounds to me he understands a lot more than you give him credit for,” Rothenberg whispered. “He understands what happened to you guys is the fault of only one person, Father Gerry.”

  “Don’t call him that,” Kenny scorned.

  “Call him what?” Rothenberg inquired.

  “Father. He doesn’t deserve to be called what we called our Dad and Father Bill.”

  “You’re right, Kenny. I’ll never call him that again. I’ll call him Gerry like you guys do. Is that okay?”

  “I could think of better things to call him,” Kenny groused.

  “Like what?” Rothenberg masked his amusement. He knew what Kenny meant.

  “Mom says not to talk like that,” Kenny grumbled.

  Rothenberg suppressed a smile. “I won’t tell Mom anything you say if you don’t want me to.”

  “Call him ‘Gerry,’ if you want. That will be okay,” Kenny calmed.

  “Okay with you too, Jake?” Rothenberg wondered.

  “Yeah,” Jake snapped, emulating his brother’s demeanor.

  Rothenberg changed the subject. “Have you guys been to church lately?”

  “We don’t go there anymore. Mom says we don’t have to,” Jake sneered, trying too hard to be as scornful as his brother.

  “Do you want to go?”

  “No,” snapped the boys. It was the first time this session they answered in unison.

  “When you consider how you feel about going to church or about priests, what does that feel like?” Rothenberg probed.

  Kenny looked down, up, and around the room. “Sad, sad and pissed,” he sighed.

  “Yeah,” Jake huffed.

  “How do you feel about your mom?” the psychiatrist wondered, eyes moving from boy to boy.

  “What’s she got to do with this?” Kenny growled.

  “Nothing, Kenny, nothing at all. It’s a simple question. Will you answer it for me?”

  “I love my mom,” Kenny smirked.

  “Yeah,” Jake sputtered, again attempting to replicate his brother.

  “Do you kiss and hug your mom as much as you used to?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Kenny indicated.

  “Yeah,” mimicked Jake.

  When the session was over, Rothenberg brought Jennifer outside to their customary spot away from the surveillance equipment.

  “The boys are making progress, Jennifer. Their anger is appropriate and aimed at the priest and the church, also appropriate. In time, with continued therapy, they should be able to deal with it. Many victims of child sexual abuse will have nightmares, and some will have relationship difficulties. I’d be remiss if I didn’t warn you to watch for signs of suicide ideation or possible drug abuse, but I see no evidence of anything like that. How are the boys at home?”

  “Quiet, aloof, not as fun-loving as they once were. There’s an air of caution in everything they do. They won’t go to church. They’ve abandoned their friends. I can’t get them to kiss me goodnight. They say they are too old,” Jennifer scowled.

  “I can’t tell you exactly what they told me. It would violate patient-doctor confidentiality, but they were not truthful in describing their relationship with you. Were they physical with you before this incident?
” Rothenberg wondered.

  “Oh yes, tons of kisses and hugs for their dad and me,” Jennifer advised.

  “I have another appointment, Jennifer. We must assume therapy will be long-term. The boys must continue to appreciate who is responsible and channel their anger appropriately. By word, it seems they have. By deed, I’m not sure. I’ll continue to follow this and do my best to help them through,” Rothenberg encouraged.

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Jennifer appreciated the honest appraisal.

  “My pleasure.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Micah visited Pat’s brother and Pam’s sister and came away with nothing new. Neither knew where their siblings were. Both thought Father Gerry was a fine priest, and both heard from their brother and sister about once a week. They were very cooperative and encouraged Micah to find them.

  They were glad to hear that ‘Mom and Dad’ ‘hired’ him. Both agreed to have a caller ID block installed in their homes. Neither could believe he or she hadn’t thought of that. Micah was sure he’d have a phone number for the missing families within a week. It wasn’t as easy as it would have been if he’d been on his home turf, where he could call in a favor or two and trace a cell phone signal.

  Nonetheless, with an area code and phone number, finding them would be a piece of cake. He loved modern technology. If for some reason the caller ID block bit didn’t work, there were methods available to defeat it. Besides, a computer search of credit cards, Social Security numbers, and so on would find them. There was always some electronic paper trail in the twenty-first century.

  That night, however, he put the case and technological advance aside for a different type of progress. He planned on putting his best moves on beautiful Jessica. If he had to stay in this town, he might as well get laid, and Jessica was his best prospect in years. She was as pretty and sexy as any of those girls in his magazines—more beautiful, even than the one in the movie he watched on pay-per-view the other day. Well, not quite pay-for-view. Micah had one of those devices that allowed him to steal premium cable channels. The air is free, he figured. He ignored all those warnings before every show that cable theft was a crime punishable by fine and imprisonment. He had the same attitude about this as he did about porn. What a grown man did in the privacy of his own home was his business and could not be a crime. Former cops could be so arrogant about their own violations of law.