by J. Fritschi
“You seem surprised,” Father John commented as if it was nothing new to him.
Kate shook her head. “I’m sorry Father, it’s just that when Detective McCormick told me you’re a monk, I was expecting something different.”
“Things are not always as they appear,” Father John cautioned her. “If I was dressed in my robe would I be more credible?”
“I don’t know.”
“I find that people have a hard time getting past the robe and judge me prematurely. I’m going to have a hard enough time convincing the detective that my dreams are real. He already thinks I have a split personality. What do you think?”
Kate was caught off guard. How did he know about Detective McCormick’s theory? “I’m not here to judge you. I’m simply here to determine if it is possible that you have Dissociative Identity Disorder.”
“I understand.”
“Tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?”
“I have four older brothers.”
“So are you the baby of the family?” Kate asked leadingly. “You don’t have any sisters?”
“No sisters. It was all boys in our house when I was growing up.”
“Except for your mother,” Kate reminded him.
Father John paused as his blues eyes turned glossy. “Actually, I never had a mother.”
“What do you mean? Everyone has a mother.”
“Not me,” Father John said as he shook his head regrettably.
“What happened to her?”
“She died.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kate said tenderly. “How did she die?”
Father John sat back in his chair and swallowed hard. “She died due to complications while giving birth to me.”
Mike’s jaw dropped and his arms fell to his side as he stared at the monitor. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. Maybe Father John formed a multiple personality to deal with the anguish of losing his mom and that personality was now killing young blonde bartenders? That would explain why the Sterling Killer was disemboweling the victims. His mother was probably even blonde.
“I’m so sorry,” Kate said softly. “I didn’t know.”
“My father used to tell me that her dying while giving birth to me was part of The Lord’s grand plan.”
“It must have been very hard on you.”
“I was lonely when I was a child. I remember the first time I became aware that I did not have a mother and that seemingly everyone else did,” Father John said in a reflective tone. “I was playing at the park and banged heads with another little boy. He ran crying to his mother and I watched as she embraced and comforted him. I looked around at all of the mothers playing with their kids wondering why I didn’t have a mother like everyone else. I felt lost and alone.”
“That is a very sad story,” Kate sympathized with tears in her eyes. “I lost my mother to cancer 5 years ago and it was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through. I know what you mean by feeling lost and alone. I still miss my mother and can’t even imagine what it was like for you as a little boy. It must have been very hard on your dad to raise you five boys on his own.”
Father John took a deep breath. “We got a lot of help from the community and our church. In a way, the church and religion were like a surrogate mother to me. They provided me with the comfort and security I was missing.”
“Is that what made you want to become a monk?”
“When I was in high school, my father sent me to a private Catholic school and I spent all of my time immersed in the study of the history and the origin of religion and I became particularly fascinated with Buddhism,” he explained passionately. “When I wasn’t studying I spent my free time doing volunteer work with the church, working with impoverished youth and going on missions to third world countries to help build churches and schools.”
“That is very cool. I have always admired people that have a passion for their convictions. What did you do after high school?”
“I received a full academic scholarship for religious studies from Baylor University to major in Buddhism and I finished my undergraduate degree in 3 years,” he told her proudly. “I couldn’t wait to go to all of the places I was learning about where people had been studying religion for centuries. After I graduated I traveled to Asia and the Middle East and lived in different monasteries in India, Nepal, Tibet, Ladakh, Kashmir, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Iran. I was learning the teachings and traditions that have been handed down for centuries, from the many Monks, Hermits and Aesthetics I met along the way. It was exhilarating and I had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but the more I learned, the more I realized no one was able to tell me the one thing I wanted to know most. For all of the thousands of years of knowledge that was passed down and all of the years spent praying and living a holy life, no one knew what God was thinking or what his plan was. No one knew what it was like to be God and to see the world through his eyes. I wanted to know the end from the beginning.”
“So what did you do then?” Kate asked captivated.
“I went on a sabbatical to Rome to visit Vatican City and see the Sistine Chapel,” Father John recalled fondly with an unblinking glare. “I was hoping that maybe I would be inspired, but as I walked around looking at the frescos, I felt empty and lost…and then I saw something that truly was inspiring.”
“What was it?” Kate asked intrigued. “She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I knew she was what led me to Rome.”
“That is so romantic,” Kate said adoringly.
“I wanted to be with her and learn about the essence of her inner beauty. I wanted to experience and share love with her. She was my best chance to be close to God because she surely was as close to perfection as God could create. Nothing I ever learned in a book or from a teacher or a wise man taught me what she taught me through love,” he recalled with glowing admiration. “She taught me what love is and that is when I realized to see the world through God’s eyes one only has to discover love.”
“What do you mean?”
“To love someone unconditionally and to share that love in the creation of children, that is what it is like to be God. By making love and creating children we ourselves are acting as Gods. To see your children is to see the world through the eyes of the Lord.”
“Do you have any children?” Kate hesitated.
“At the time we were living in Arianna’s apartment above her art gallery. Our lives revolved around the art gallery and there were a lot of late nights with the art exhibits and the after hour parties. I wanted to get married and start a family, but Arianna didn’t think our life styles were conducive to that.”
“What did you do?”
“Time went by fast and I began to get restless living a life of indulgence. I realized that all of the time I was living with Arianna was just a diversion.”
“Is that when you went back to the abbey?”
“Yes,” Father John confirmed nodding his head resolutely. “I had a dream. It was more like a revelation and I realized I had to continue my search for enlightenment.”
“She must have been devastated.”
“She pleaded with me to stay and told me that she was ready to start a family and then, when she could see in my eyes that there was no changing my mind, she confessed to me that she always knew that one day I would leave her,” Father John said with strained eyes. “She said she knew that my heart belonged to God and that is why she never agreed to have a family with me. We stayed up together for as long as we could on that last night and when she fell asleep, I slipped out under the veil of darkness.”
Kate let out a deep breath as she sat back in her chair like a distraught mother. “Where did you go?”
“My travels led me back to the states and La Grande Abbey.”
“Have you tried to contact Arianna since you’ve been back?”
“I intended to, but then I started having the dreams about the murders and when I found out the murders were actually ha
ppening, I contacted Detective McCormick to offer my assistance.”
“You should call her,” Kate admonished him encouragingly. “She is probably worried about you.”
“I will as soon as we figure out who the killer is.”
“It’s none of my business, but you should call her now. I’m sure she would want to hear that you are alright,” Kate cautioned him as she leaned forward and picked up her pen and adjusted her lined pad of paper. “Do you mind if we switch topics so I can ask you some questions that might make you a little uncomfortable?”
“Please do,” Father John replied gladly as he sat forward with his hands folded on the table.
“I want you to think back on your childhood. Do you remember ever having been abused either physically or mentally?”
“No,” Father John replied without hesitation.
“Were you ever sexually abused or molested?”
Father John shifted uncomfortably in his seat and frowned. “I am aware of the stereotype of priests and the church, but I can tell you categorically that I was never sexually molested.”
Kate jotted a few notes on her pad of paper. “Is there any history of mental illness in your family?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Did you ever have an injury to your head?”
“I don’t think I ever even had a concussion.”
“I was wondering if you would be willing to complete a questionnaire about your mental state?” Kate asked as she removed a file from her briefcase.
“Does this have anything to do with the detective’s pseudo psychological theory about multiple personalities?” Father John asked snidely.
Kate smirked as she pulled out a single sheet of paper from a manila folder. “Before we get started, I need you to read and sign this waiver.”
Father John signed the consent form and slid it across the table.
Kate handed him the Dissociative Experience Scale questionnaire and explained that there are 28 questions that he was to read and respond to. After he responded to all of the questions his score would be totaled and the higher the score, the more probability that he might have Dissociative Identity Disorder, although she reminded him that it was only meant as a screening tool and that a high score did not automatically mean that he did have multiple personalities.
Kate handed the father a pen and told him she would be back in about 15 minutes. Father John gave her an appeasing smile and thanked her as she sauntered out the door.
chapter 48
MIKE OPENED THE door of the viewing room and stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. Kate was vigorously typing a note into her smart phone, her long streaked hair hanging precariously to the side. A vision of her kneeling on her hands and knees above Mike as he lay on his back flashed in his mind. Kate glanced over and smiled at him.
“I don’t want to put the cart before the horse, but this sounds like a textbook case of multiple personality disorder,” Mike said quietly with wide eye enthusiasm. “His mom dies giving birth to him so he creates an alter personality to deal with the pain and guilt.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Kate cautioned him. “Just because that provides a convenient explanation doesn’t mean you can make the leap to the conclusion that he is the Sterling Killer,” she admonished him sternly. “Besides, he has no history of abuse or mental illness.”
“Maybe so, but if you add that to the fact that he has these ‘dreams’ and knows about the symbol, you have to admit it is quite a coincidence.”
Kate frowned and let out a sigh.
“What’s the problem?” Mike whispered in disbelief as he rubbed his knit hat.
“I don’t think he did it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a hunch. There’s something too trustworthy about him. I don’t think he could commit these crimes.”
“So you think he is actually having dreams where he sees the murders as they happen through the eyes of the killer?” Mike asked incredulously. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Not necessarily,” Kate replied shaking her head with a disturbed frown.
“What then? Do you think he is making this up for some reason?”
“I don’t know…it’s the only logical explanation.”
“How do you explain him knowing about the symbol then?”
“He must have heard about it.”
“If the results of the test are positive, will you be willing to admit that he has multiple personality disorder?” Mike asked frustrated.
“Even if he scores high on the Dissociative Scale Test that doesn’t mean that he has Dissociative Identity Disorder,” she explained cautiously as she peered into his eyes. “It only means that there is a higher probability that he has the disorder. It is only a screening mechanism. We would need to do more testing and psychoanalysis.”
“Which means there is a higher probability that he has a split personality that is the Sterling Killer,” Mike pointed out succinctly.
Kate shifted her weight to her long, right leg and reluctantly relented. “You know the results of the test are confidential and I can’t give them to you without the Father’s consent.”
“Why wouldn’t the Father consent? He thinks he’s innocent and has nothing to hide. He’s been nothing but forthcoming so far. As a matter of fact, I’ll bet you dinner he consents willingly.”
Kate crossed her arms over her blouse and tilted her head. “I don’t think that is such a good idea,” she said reluctantly.
“Why not?” Mike quipped with raised eyebrows as he stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“I don’t like to mix my personal life with my professional life.”
“I promise to keep it on a professional level. I just want to pick your brain.”
Kate tilted her head and leered at him skeptically. “I better check on the Father and see if he’s done with the test.”
“Alright, but promise me you’ll think about my offer.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said as she spun around on her high heels and strolled back to the door all the while peering at Mike over her shoulder with glowing eyes.
chapter 49
THE DOOR OPENED and Kate gracefully entered the room. Father John watched her with the interest of a dog watching a bird in flight.
“How did it go?” she asked enthusiastically as she sat down.
“No offense, but the detective is wasting his time.”
Kate let out a deep breath. “From his point of view there are only a few ways that you could know about the symbol and only a few reasons you would be claiming to have dreams about the murders. He’s just going through the process of elimination. If you would just tell us how you know about the symbol, we could save ourselves a lot of trouble.”
“I’m not surprised by the detective’s lack of faith, but I am disappointed that you are not more open to what I am telling you. Don’t you believe in God anymore?”
Kate didn’t want to be rude, but she had a habit of speaking the truth no matter how confrontational it was.
“No offense Father, but I believe there is a low probability that there is a supernatural creator. There just isn’t any evidence to support that belief.”
“What do you believe?”
“I believe in physics, evolution and natural selection, which can all be quantified.”
“So you believe that science has all of the answers as to how we got here?”
“I believe that the universe started with the big bang and has evolved through the process of natural selection and will continue to evolve. There is scientific evidence that proves the theories as a high probability of being true.”
“Scientists have been talking about their theories and truths for years, but every decade or so there is new evidence that comes out that makes scientists change their theories.”
“Our theories evolve when we find new evidence that leads us to new truths, but we are always interested
in searching for the truth.”
“If there is no God and therefore no afterlife, what is the meaning of life?”
Kate calmly smiled. “I think that the meaning of life is a personal thing and each individual needs to figure out what their purpose is. I’m happy enough in this life that I don’t need religion to tell me that if I live my life according to their rules, I will be rewarded in my next life,” she explained pointedly. “It’s because I know my life is finite and will end one day and that it is my only life that I appreciate and enjoy it. I don’t need another life at the end of this one to give me a purpose.”
The father’s face glowered with disappointment. “Do you not think that religion provides moral guidance and comfort to those who follow it?”
“I’m not interested in things that provide comfort; I’m interested in the truth. If religion gives people comfort, that’s great, but it seems to me that it’s a false sense of comfort. The only moral guidance we need is to treat others with respect instead of concerning ourselves with their sexual preference.”
The father stood from his chair, quietly contemplating. “Why do so many people believe in God? Are the majority wrong and the minority right?”
Kate responded patiently. “Religious beliefs are passed on from generation to generation. You believe a version of what you’re father believed and his father before him,” she explained carefully. “The child of a suicide bomber believes their religion is the true and right one just as you believe your religion is the true and right one. You can’t rationally expect the child to believe anything else. He has been raised to believe that Christians are the infidels and that Muslims become martyrs by killing them. All religions have killed many in God’s name going back before the crusades. If we don’t hold religion accountable, how can we blame the people carrying out the acts in God’s name? Belief without evidence is convenient because it gives religion justification for their actions.”
Father John looked at Kate with astonishment. “You scientists mock God as a delusion, some sort of mythology and yet your explanation of how things came to be is a big bang that came out of nowhere and multiplied from nothing into this large universe, yet you do not stop and ask yourself where the big bang came from. Did it appear out of nowhere? Who made the universe and the elements that caused the big bang? You scientists don’t have an answer for that, do you?”