“Let me guess, for ‘tempting him,’ right? That’s such an old line for bad priests. The guy sounds like a real winner. I’d like to meet with your boy and talk to him. Could you come in on Monday at three?” Blue would have to leave school early to do it, but she thought it was worth it. “What’s his name, by the way?”
“Blue Williams. And I’m Ginny Carter.”
“This probably sounds crazy, but were you ever on TV? My sister lives in L.A., and there used to be a TV reporter on the news with that name. I used to watch whenever I was out there.”
“That was me,” she said in a small voice.
“Wow…that’s amazing. You and your husband were such a great team on the news,” he complimented her, and she found herself thinking that she was a different person now. It all seemed so long ago and was part of another life.
“Yes, we were a great team, thank you.” She tried not to sound wistful and just matter-of-fact. He was a lawyer, not a shrink.
“I noticed that you were both off the air the last few times I was in L.A.” He sounded disappointed.
“He died three and a half years ago,” she said simply.
“I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have mentioned it, but you were great.” He seemed embarrassed to have brought it up.
“Thank you.” Now he had even more faith in what she told him. He knew she was used to being accurate and factual, and reporting things as they were, not exaggerating or enhancing them. It made what she said more reliable for him, which made his job easier.
“See you on Monday with Blue,” he said pleasantly, and hung up.
And as soon as Blue came home from school that day, she told him they had an appointment with the police. He looked frightened for a second, and then nodded. In his previous life, a meeting with police was not a good thing. This time it was.
They took the subway downtown and were on time for the appointment. Ginny asked for Detective Sanders, and a very attractive woman came out to meet them a few minutes later. She was not wearing a uniform, had long red hair, and was wearing a very short tight skirt. Blue looked relieved. She didn’t look like a cop to him, or like anyone who would put you in jail, although she had handcuffs at her belt, and Ginny could see the faint outline of her gun in a shoulder holster under her jacket when she moved, and her star was clipped on her belt.
“Hi, Blue,” she said easily, and offered them something to drink when they sat down in her office. She had big green eyes, and a friendly, casual style. Blue asked for a Coke, and Ginny didn’t want anything. Detective Sanders spoke directly and kindly to Blue. “I’m sure it’s a little unnerving coming down here. We’re here to help you. We won’t let anything bad happen to you, and I’m going to tell you what we’re going to do all along the way. But people who hurt kids, or abuse them in any way, need to be stopped, for everyone’s sake, even theirs, so you did the right thing coming down here.” She glanced at Ginny and included her in what she said, too. “Is this your mom?” she asked about Ginny.
“No, she’s my friend,” he said, and smiled at Ginny.
“He lives with me,” Ginny explained.
“Foster mom?” Detective Sanders asked her, and Ginny shook her head.
“No, he stays with me at times. He has an aunt who’s his guardian.”
“That’s fine,” Detective Sanders said, seeming unconcerned. She just wanted to know who the players were, and now she did. He didn’t need the permission of a parent or guardian to report the incident. “So, do you want to tell me what happened? First, how old were you?”
“I was nine, I think, or just ten. I was living with my aunt, uptown. And the priest at our church, Father Teddy, said I could play the piano in the basement. He used to listen to me play, and he sat next to me sometimes. That’s when he did it.”
“And what did he do?” She asked the question as though it were the most normal thing in the world to be asking him, even having just met him. She was good at what she did.
And she asked specific questions as he told her, about what he touched and how, and exactly where, and whether the priest had hurt him. She asked if he had had Blue expose himself, or if there had been oral sex involved, and Blue said there hadn’t been. But the incident had been repeated again and again, and the priest had kissed him and gone a little further each time, and Blue said he’d been scared he’d try to do more, so he stopped going to play the piano. And the priest had tried to get him to come back, but he wouldn’t, and the priest had threatened him again then not to tell, or the police would arrest him and send him to jail and never believe him. He had thoroughly convinced Blue that that was true, and as Ginny listened, she realized that the incidents of abuse had happened more frequently than she’d first realized, and Blue hadn’t told her, and she wondered now if there was more he had kept from her, or didn’t remember. She was even more relieved now that they had come to the police. She had a feeling there was something he might not be saying. Detective Sanders thought that, too, but it was a good beginning.
And then Detective Sanders asked another question: “Did he ever ask you to touch him?” She acted like it was no big deal if he did. Blue hesitated for a long time before he answered, and then he nodded. Ginny fought hard to follow the detective’s example and not react. It was something she hadn’t even thought to ask him, and she was horrified by his positive response.
“Sometimes.” His eyes were cast down as he said it, and he didn’t look at Ginny.
“Did he threaten to hurt you if you didn’t touch him?”
“He said it was my fault he got like that, because I tempted him, and it hurt him, so I had to fix it, and if I didn’t, he wouldn’t let me come back, and he’d tell my aunt I’d stolen money from the collection basket, but I didn’t.”
“And how did he have you fix it?” There was another long pause, and reluctantly Blue gave an exact description of a blow job, while Ginny tried not to cry as her heart ached for him. “Did he ever do that to you?” This time Blue shook his head, and he glanced at Ginny from under his lashes to see if she was angry at him. She just smiled and patted his hand. He was being very brave. “You know, Blue,” the detective went on, “if we bring charges against Father Teddy, you won’t have to see him in court. The judge will read our report, and he’ll talk to you in his chambers. But you don’t have to be afraid of Father Teddy anymore. He’s history for you now, and one day you can put all this behind you and forget about it. It’s something that happened to you, but it’s not who you are, and none of it was your fault. He’s a very sick man who took advantage of a little boy, maybe even a lot of little boys. But you never have to see him again.” Blue looked immensely relieved when she said it. He had been worrying about just that, and she knew it. You could almost see him exhale and relax after she spoke.
“Do you think he did the same thing to any of your friends? Did anyone ever talk about it?”
“Jimmy Ewald said he hated him, too. I was afraid to ask him why, but I thought maybe it was that. No one else ever said anything. They were probably too scared. I never said anything, either, not even to Jimmy. He was in seventh grade then, I was younger.”
She nodded and didn’t look surprised at anything he said, not even the blow job. “Do you remember what Father Teddy looks like? Do you think you’d recognize him if you saw him?”
“Like in a lineup? Like in Law and Order?” He looked excited at her question, and both women laughed.
“Yeah, or from a photo?”
“Sure.” Blue looked confident of it, and Ginny spoke up.
“I saw him yesterday, in Chicago, at the parish he transferred to. I just wanted to get a look at him.” Detective Sanders looked startled by that. “I used to be a reporter.”
“Did he know why you were there?”
“I said I was there for marriage counseling and used my maiden name. But I saw him walk off with a young boy after our meeting. I was in the church, and he didn’t see me.” Blue looked surprised at that, and the detectiv
e nodded, and Ginny saw a muscle in her cheek tense, but nothing else in her expression gave away how much she hated the perpetrators in these cases. She frequently told her co-workers that the “perps” should all be castrated. But her anger never showed when she was around the victims.
“You did a great job today,” she said to Blue. “You really helped me. What’s going to happen now is we’re going to do some very careful, quiet investigating, to see if anyone has ever complained about him to the church, and if they know about this. That may be why he was moved to Chicago. He could have been doing this for a long time, in other parishes he worked in. I doubt that you’re the only one this happened to, Blue. But even if you are, even if he never did it before or after, what he did is still wrong, and I believe you.
“So after we have all the evidence, then we’ll bring charges against him and arrest him. And if we do our job right, he’ll go to prison. It may take a while to get all the evidence we want to build a strong case, so you have to be a little bit patient. But I’ll be in touch with you, and with Ginny, and we’ll let you know how it’s going. I’m going to have a statement drawn up now, of what you said to me today. And if I made any mistakes, or got some of it wrong, just tell me and I’ll change it, and then you can sign it, and we’ll open the case and that’s it.”
She smiled at him, got up, and said she’d be back in a few minutes. And Ginny could see her through the window, sitting at a computer and typing up a statement for him to sign. The detective had made no notes, so she could focus on Blue, so it would be impressive if she got it all in. She was back in her office five minutes later, with the printed statement for him to read and sign. Ginny had confirmed to her earlier that she hadn’t known him then, so she had nothing to add.
The detective handed the sheet of paper to Blue and instructed him to read it carefully, and not to be embarrassed to tell her she had gotten something wrong. She wanted to be totally accurate, since his statement would be the starting point of the investigation. She got his e-mail address, and Ginny’s, and her cell phone number.
Blue read the statement carefully and told her it was what he had said. She hadn’t left anything out and there were no mistakes. And once he had confirmed that, she asked him to swear that what he had told her was true. He swore to her that it was and signed it, and then she thanked them both for coming, and walked them out of her office. It had been a draining, emotional meeting and Blue looked exhausted and so did Ginny, but she thought it had gone well.
They were in the elevator on their way downstairs when Ginny looked carefully at Blue.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. She was nice,” he said softly, and then he turned sad eyes up to Ginny. “You’re not mad at me?” For the rest he hadn’t told her. She knew what he meant. And she admired him for being honest, which couldn’t have been easy.
“Of course not. Why would I be mad at you? You’re the bravest person I know, and you were right to tell her. The only one I’m mad at is Father Teddy. I hope he goes to prison for a long, long time.” Blue nodded, and she took his hand in hers. As they walked out of the elevator, out of the building, and down the street together to the subway, he started to talk and laugh and come alive again.
—
When Jane Sanders walked out of her office, with Blue’s statement in her hand, she strode into her lieutenant’s office with a serious expression, and when he met her eyes, she looked like she wanted to kill someone. This case was no different than the others, but she was so sick of hearing it again and again, and they always assigned these cases to her. After years of psychology and counseling classes, and a master’s degree from Columbia, she handled them better than anyone else. And she always got her man. She had never lost a case against a child molester or a priest.
“What you got?” he asked with interest. He had seen that look on her face before. “A nice serial killer to keep you busy?” he teased her.
“I wish. Another priest. I’m so goddamn sick of these guys and what they do to these kids. Why don’t they kick them out of the priesthood? They know about most of them anyway, but they just shuffle them around like peas in the shell game. They give the church a bad name.” And like Ginny, she was sure that Father Teddy had done the same thing, or worse, to other boys in the parish. It was never a one-time thing with sexual abusers like him. And he was probably doing it in Chicago now. She had a team of investigators she used for cases like this, and she was going to put them into action to follow up Blue’s case.
“Will it stick?” Bill Sullivan asked her. She was the best detective he had in child sexual abuse cases, she was brilliant at her job.
“Like glue,” she said with certainty. “The case is solid.” It was like so many others she had had, and it all rang true to her. “And the kid will make a great witness.”
“Go for it, Jane.” Bill grinned at her.
“Don’t worry, I will. I’m on it.” She left a copy of the statement on his desk with a file number on it, and walked back to her office. The hunt for Father Teddy and his victims had begun.
Chapter 12
Their meeting with Andrew O’Connor was very different from the meeting with the police. And to spare Blue the pain and embarrassment of going through the details again, Ginny handed the lawyer Blue’s statement to the police and asked him to read it, which he did. And then he looked up at both of them with a serious expression. He was a tall, aristocratic-looking man, and although he was wearing jeans and a blue shirt with his sleeves rolled up, the shirt was well made, and his shoes were impeccably shined. The art on his office walls was expensive, and the diplomas said he had graduated from Harvard. His confidence and demeanor suggested to Ginny that he came from an important family and had money. Kevin hadn’t mentioned it, but she could sense it. She could easily envision him as a banker or a lawyer, but not as a priest.
“I know Jane Sanders. She’s the right person for this investigation,” he said comfortably. “I’ve worked with her before. We’ve never lost a case together. And I don’t think this one will be too difficult to prove. He sounds like he’s pretty bold, and my guess is you’re just one of a number of victims, Blue, maybe even a lot of them. And if we can prove that the archdiocese moved him knowingly to Chicago to cover up for him, we’ll win our case. And I suspect that’s exactly what they did. The Vatican has ordered them to stop doing that now, but some of the monsignors and bishops are still trying to protect their own. Canon law makes it very clear that in cases like this, they need to turn an errant priest in to the authorities, but many of them just won’t. So a guy like Father Teddy gets away with it again and again. First, we need to stop him and see justice served here for you and all the people he hurt. And then I’d like to see Blue get compensation in the form of damages. Some of these cases have won some very handsome settlements for my clients.”
“What do you mean?” Blue asked him directly, and the ex-Jesuit attorney explained.
“When someone does something bad to you like that, and hurts you or damages you in some way, first you want to send them to prison if possible. That’s what the police do. But then you can sue them civilly and get an amount of money to make up for what you went through. That’s what I do.” He made it seem very simple.
“You mean I get paid for what he did to me?” Blue looked shocked. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“In some ways it’s not,” Andrew agreed with him. “It doesn’t make it right, and in the case of people who are physically injured, it doesn’t make them whole again. But it’s kind of our system’s way of saying that people are sorry, that they have to pay something for what they did. And sometimes that can be a good thing, if the money can help you in some way. And in this case, the Catholic Church is paying the bill, and some of the settlements have been very high. You can’t put a price tag on the damage people do, or the trauma you suffered, or the grief they cause. But getting a settlement for some of the victims has been a comfort to them, and made them feel like someone cares
. It’s how our legal system works.” Blue was still looking ill at ease with the idea as the attorney explained. “It might be nice for you to have an amount of money in the bank, for your education, to start a business one day, or to help you buy a house when you’re older, or even for your kids. It’s a way of giving you something back for the innocence you lost and the trust that was abused.” He didn’t mention his body, but that was part of it, too. And Blue turned to Ginny with a questioning look.
“Do you think that’s okay?” he asked her, unsure, and she nodded.
“Yes, I do, Blue. You went through a lot. It was very traumatic. You’re not stealing money from anyone if you get a settlement. You deserve it, and it would be the church’s way of telling you they’re sorry for how bad Father Teddy was and what he did to you.” It sounded better to him the way she phrased it.
“The state sends him to prison, and the church gives you an apology in the form of a gift. Sometimes a very big gift, which it can afford,” the lawyer said again. Blue was pensive as he mulled it over and didn’t respond. He didn’t want money he didn’t deserve because he had let Father Teddy do something bad. He still felt guilty at times about it, because as he got older, he knew how wrong it was and he hadn’t stopped him, but he had been too scared to. And what if Father Teddy was right when he said Blue had tempted him. He hadn’t meant to, but what if he had?
“I’d like to work with Jane Sanders on the investigation, and we can hire an additional investigator ourselves, so we tie up all the loose ends, and don’t miss something important,” the lawyer told them. “We want the tightest case possible so we’re sure of a conviction. And at the same time I’ll prepare a civil suit, and as soon as he’s convicted, we should get a settlement from the church.” He was very direct about it, but Ginny knew it wouldn’t be as simple as he made it sound. They were complicated cases to bring to trial, and the church wasn’t always as cooperative as he suggested. The church protected its own. But his best-case scenario sounded perfect to her, and to Blue.
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