Blind Delusion

by Dorothy Phaire

  Renee spotted Deek sitting inconspicuously towards the rear of the church, but still several pews ahead of where she sat. He looked back and noticed her too, and gestured for her to come sit with him. Renee walked down the aisle, faced the altar and genuflected before easing in the spot next to him. She took in the spicy scent of his familiar cologne. Whenever they ran into each other the tension escalated. Being in church at a funeral didn’t seem to make a difference. To avoid being distracted by him, she read the program. The program couldn’t hold her interest because Deek looked as good as he smelled. Even at a funeral, he appeared ‘James Bond’ savvy in spit-shine, black loafers and trim, lightweight gray, woolen trousers that curved against his muscled legs. He wore a matching single-breasted jacket over a soft-striped shirt and woven silk, black-on-royal blue tie. Renee felt guilty getting turned on in a church but that was difficult not to do sitting so close to Deek.

  Renee composed herself when she saw Father Emanuel, Brenda’s priest, lead the processional of pallbearers, carrying the closed casket up to the altar. The organist played a passionate and forceful Rachmaninoff concerto. If the mood wasn’t already somber, the music cast an even deeper gloom over the funeral service. Renee didn’t even know Brenda’s husband that well, but her eyes glazed and she dabbed at them frequently with her handkerchief. In accompaniment to the music, the robed priest chanted a sorrowful praise to the Lord. After the hymn, he knelt before a statue of the Virgin Mary and bowed his head in prayer. He held a string of rosary beads within his clasped hands. The priest stood up and turned around to face the mourners and those who had come to pay their last respects to the deceased. Father Emanuel had a full, round face, glittering, brown eyes and stock of dark curls laced with copper tints that fell over his ears and down his neck. When he spoke, his message sounded like a symphony of rhythmic intonations that Renee found soothing.

  “We are not here today to mourn, but to celebrate life. Jerome Antonio Johnson was a devoted husband, father, son, and brother,” said Father Emanuel, his melodic voice echoing through the church. “Although he faced temptations from the snares of the secular world and made many mistakes, Brother Johnson repented. He was on the road to overcoming his obstacles with the support of his loving wife and her unwavering faith in our Lord.”

  The priest looked down at Brenda momentarily before continuing. “Tragically cut off at only 28 years old in the prime of his season, some of you may be asking why does God allow such terrible things to happen? People ask these questions all the time. Why did God take this one? He or she was so dedicated to God. Children, it’s not God’s fault when people kill each other or hurt each other,” said the priest with emphasis and scanned the congregation with his dark, liquid eyes, “God gave Man free choice to decide to commit good deeds or the free choice to commit sin. These terrible things happen because of sin and evil in this materialistically driven, sinister world we live in today.”

  He placed both hands on the podium while his gentle eyes swept over the mourners before him. “I see the sorrow in your faces and sense the heaviness in your hearts. Some of you seated before me may be asking yourselves something even more personal, like, ‘Does God really care about me? Why did God put me in this situation? Why did he let this happen to me?’ Yes, life’s blows will hurt for a while but God says ‘I am with you’. Don’t give up children. Don’t feel hopeless. You are never alone.”

  Father Emanuel took a sip of water and continued. “God is about goodness and about bestowing blessings to his faithful servants. We may not understand his intentions but we must maintain faith because we never know the day or the hour when we’ll be called home,” he said. “My Sisters and my Brothers, don’t be afraid of death. It is as quick as closing your eyes and opening them back up again. When you open your eyes you are on the other side where there’s eternal peace. Have faith in Our Savior, Jesus Christ and you will be ready to pass over to the other side whenever your time comes.” Father Emanuel flipped open his bible and read the marked passage. “In Ecclesiastes 3:1, the Lord says, ‘For everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven. A time to be born and a time to die’.”

  “Life on Earth is short and we suffer many trials and tribulations along the way but there are also moments to be cherished. Think on all the precious moments you shared with Brother Johnson and keep the memory of your loved one alive.” He closed the Bible and performed other rituals at the altar that Renee did not pay much attention to. Instead, she reflected on what the priest had said.

  The priest’s words had comforted her deeply. When he spoke she couldn’t help thinking about her own recent loss upon finding out her uterus bore no growing baby inside of her. Last week Dr. Eckbert had told her that the pregnancy would spontaneously abort itself within days since no fetus existed to sustain hormone levels. At sunrise that morning Renee woke up with cramping and light bleeding and knew it was all over. Another failure at motherhood. Just as Dr. Eckbert expected, nature took care of its own non-survivable mistake. But somehow she got through it. Not long ago she would have needed strong medication and denial to numb herself against feeling anything, but over the past several days she discovered she could take whatever life had to throw at her.

  Renee knew she was growing emotionally stronger. Watching how Brenda maneuvered through her crisis and how she relied on faith to get her through hardships had opened up a door of understanding for Renee. Renee realized she still had much to learn about experiencing life and love, things that she had never learned before in her medical and psychiatric manuals. But at least she realized there was hope now that the door had been slightly cracked open. This cracked open door is what had allowed her to get up that morning, wash away her own sorrow and attend this funeral despite her own loss. She felt Deek squeeze her hand. When she turned teary-eyed to face him, he took the balled up handkerchief from her fist and gently dabbed each corner of her eyes. Renee hoped he would assume her tears were brought on by Father Emanuel’s touching words. She didn’t want him to think that she wasn’t emotionally stable enough to focus on the investigative work as a criminal profile consultant. In fact, helping Deek with the homicide case was exactly what she needed right now.

  Renee looked out at the mourners to see if they too felt moved by the service. At that moment, she felt a strong awareness that she was being watched. Every so often a man seated a few rows in front of them and wearing a brown suit and a colorful orange and royal blue kinte cloth around his neck, surveyed the back pew and peered in her direction. Renee finally recognized him as the obnoxious customer from Good Looks beauty parlor but she couldn’t recall his name.

  “I have to get out of here,” she whispered to Deek, “I passed a private office in the basement coming in this morning. Can we talk for a few minutes? I have something I want to show you.” Deek nodded and followed her out to the vestibule. There was intermittent sobbing coming from the deceased side of the church as they quietly exited the sanctuary.

  Once outside in the vestibule, Renee and Deek descended a narrow stairway that led to the church basement, and they entered one of the unlocked counseling chambers. They sat down on a striped Chippendale sofa. Before he had a chance to ask what she wanted to talk about, Renee removed a folded clipping from that morning’s Washington Post Metro Section from her clutch purse and handed it to Deek. “Have you had a chance to read this morning’s paper yet?” she asked. “It’s nothing but lies about my secretary.”

  He took the clipping and unfolded it. Then read the caption aloud. Young Washington area mother suspected of arson and murder. Police suspect co-conspirator could also be involved. Deek’s face didn’t register any surprise as he read the rest of the clipping in silence. Renee already knew exactly what it said, having read it several times earlier that morning in disbelief.

  In the aftermath of Monday’s arson at a Southeast Capitol Hill rowhouse that left 28 year-old Jerome A. Johnson dead, the lea
d investigator on the case, Detective Melvin Bradford, says attention is now being focused on the victim’s wife, Brenda Adams Johnson. Mrs. Johnson is the sole beneficiary of a fifty thousand dollar life insurance policy on her husband’s death. After receiving an anonymous tip and questioning witnesses, police uncovered a hidden web of lies, infidelity, and drug abuse that could have sparked the domestic turmoil within the Johnson household that led to the crime on Monday afternoon. As yet, no formal charges have been filed. Investigators are awaiting lab results of physical evidence before making their move to arrest Mrs. Johnson on suspicion of murder, conspiracy to commit murder, arson and insurance fraud. The Johnson family maintains their daughter’s innocence and retained the nationally renowned criminal attorney, Mr. K. C. Bloodstone as their daughter’s legal counsel.

  In a recent chilling discovery based on an unidentified caller’s tip, this was not the first time Mrs. Johnson has come under suspicion for murder and insurance fraud. Police later confirmed the informant’s claim by searching police records. Records reveal that nine years ago an unwed, 19 year-old Brenda Adams, now known as Johnson was charged with involuntary manslaughter in the death of her six-week old infant daughter. At that time Miss Adams collected a $15,000 death benefit on her infant’s life insurance policy that had been taken out on the very day of the child’s birth. However, due to lack of physical evidence to prosecute, the DA dropped the charges against Miss Adams (aka Mrs. Johnson) and marked the infant’s death accidental. Uncovering this new skeleton in Mrs. Johnson’s closet has shed further suspicion on her credibility.

  “It doesn’t look good for Brenda,” said Deek, refolding the news clipping. He then handed it back to her. Renee gave him a pained expression without knowing what to say. Deek leaned back against the couch with his arms folded, apparently reflecting on his own private thoughts. She had hoped he could shed some light on where all these lies were coming from. But were they all lies, she asked herself. Could Brenda really be guilty, she thought. People were not always who they seemed to be. As a trained psychologist, she recognized the many faces of deceit. Brenda presented herself as a loving mother, devoted wife, and she called herself a Christian woman. But could she in fact be a cold-blooded killer motivated by money and greed? Renee decided that Brenda’s mother certainly came across as conniving, selfish, and greedy. But, what about her daughter? She wondered if the apple fell close to the tree in the case of mother and daughter. For a second she felt puzzled, but then her head cleared. No, there had to be another explanation.

  Renee refused to believe she could be that wrong about a person’s character. Instead of believing rumors she’d help investigate the facts and find out what happened to Brenda’s first baby nine years ago. Renee didn’t like the way this investigation was heading. She turned to face Deek. “Before we jump to conclusions we should find out the identity of this unnamed source and what their motive is,” she said, her voice trembling with anger.

  Deek leaned forward and clasped both hands in front of him. “I agree, Doc. Bradford’s theory is pretty much based on rumors and circumstantial evidence. Until lab results come in and give us some physical proof that points elsewhere, he won’t back off Brenda. In fact, that’s the reason I’m here. I’m supposed to take her in for re-questioning after the service,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “You can’t be serious. Brenda’s already been through so much. Don’t tell me you believe these awful lies they’ve been printing?”

  “No, I’m not 100% convinced of her guilt so I want to give her a chance to respond to the accusations. But it was either me or Bradford so I volunteered to come today.”

  “I want to be there when you question her,” she said firmly.

  “Your role is to advise, remember?” he turned to give her a stern look, “You’re not trained for law enforcement, Renee.”

  “I know that Detective. It’s not necessary to keep reminding me what my limited role is on this investigation. But Deek, there are too many other possibilities to pin everything on her. For instance, suppose the torch is simply a pyromaniac who gets gratification from setting fires?”

  “Don’t worry, Doc, I won’t let Bradford railroad your secretary. But I do have to consider all the evidence even if it points to Brenda,” he said, “In my book we can’t afford to exclude anybody as a suspect who knew the victim, had opportunity, and good reason to want him dead.”

  Renee rose from the sofa, “We’d better get back upstairs.” Deek agreed and followed her to the door. Just as they had exited the room and were about to return to the sanctuary, a man appeared in front of them, standing at the bottom of the stairway. His attention was focused solely on Renee. “Hey, ain’t you that fine sistuh I’m always running into at Good Looks on Thursdays?” the man said, grinning and stuck out his hand for Renee to shake. “I’m Alonzo Woods, you remember me, don’t ya?”

  The scent of cigarette breath preceded him as he edged too close to her, invading her space and accidentally stepping on one of her black, patent leather pumps. Renee stepped back a few inches away from him and briefly shook his outstretched hand out of politeness. His hand felt hot and sweaty, and when he wasn’t looking she wiped her hand on the handkerchief from her purse. She hoped if she didn’t talk or introduce him to Deek, he would get the hint and go away. That never worked at the beauty parlor and didn’t work any better at the church either.

  “Ya’ll don’t mind if we talk for bit?” asked Alonzo, and without waiting for a reply he led them back into the counseling chamber. Deek and Renee sat down on the couch while Alonzo sat across from them in a wing-back chair.

  “I’m Lt. Detective Degas Hamilton, MPD, Homicide. And you obviously already know Dr. Hayes. What can we do for you, Mr. Woods?” said Deek.

  Alonzo stared down at his shoes as he spoke. “It sure is a damn shame how my man went down,” he said, shaking his head, “Jerome was my ace boon coon at Union Delivery Service. I was just at his crib a coupla days ago right after he got suspended from work for failing one of them piss tests. I mean a random drug test. Man, I can’t believe it. Just the other day, we was layin’ back, chillin’. Now this. Ain’t life a bitch?”

  It didn’t seem to matter to Alonzo that he was in church since he didn’t bother to modify his language, Renee thought.

  “Mr. Woods, I’m one of the detectives investigating the Johnson murder case,” said Deek and pushed back his jacket to reveal the badge attached to his belt. “Since you and the deceased were good friends do you mind if I ask you a few questions about him?” Deek retrieved his Blackberry™ from the inside pocket of his jacket, which Renee knew would have every feature activated. She also noticed that Alonzo got fidgety when Deek asked him questions.

  “Uh, from what I been reading in the news lately, looks like ya’ll already got your mind made up as to who done it,” said Alonzo.

  “You can’t believe everything you read, Mr. Woods,” said Renee, tersely. “I’m helping Detective Hamilton with the case as a criminal profile consultant. I assure you there are still more suspects left to uncover.”

  “Me and Jay was best buddies ever since he started at UDS as a driver. I wanna do whatever I can to help ya’ll catch that mutha … the asshole that killed him. I don’t care what the papers say, I can’t see sweet, little Brenda doin’ something like that to anybody much less to Jerome.”

  “Do you know Mrs. Johnson well?” asked Deek.

  “No, not really. Only what Jay used to say about her. His locker’s full of her pictures and the baby. Some he claimed he couldn’t show me,” said Alonzo with a wicked grin. He and Brenda still acted like newlyweds hear him tell it.”

  “Would you be willing to testify in court if it should come to that confirming their close relationship?” asked Deek.

  “Sure Detective Hamilton. Believe me, Jay loved his family and he tried real hard to beat his drug addiction. Jay said his wife for
gave him a lot of times in the past and he didn’t want to disappoint her again. That’s why at first he was scared to tell her he got fired for failing that random drug test at work.”

  “Did Mr. Johnson have any enemies that you were aware of?”

  “Enemies? I don’t know if I’d call ‘em enemies but lemme put it to you this way. My man Jay had a whole lotta drama queens in his life. From his ex-girlfriend, on down to his nosey mother-in-law. Me and him was just talkin’ ‘bout all his female troubles a coupla days before … you know, before he died.”

  “Exactly how did these ladies cause Mr. Johnson problems?”

  “Well, for one thing that damn mother-in-law of his was always in the mix. I think ole Jay woulda rather got both his eyes dug out with a rusty nail than get into a rumble with the Ice Queen. That’s what he called her behind her back. Not to her face of course. I think he was scared of her and who wouldn’t be? Have you met Brenda’s mother yet, Detective?” Deek shook his head and encouraged Alonzo to continue, which didn’t take much encouragement. Alonzo talked incessantly with a nervous edge in his voice. He kept licking his dry, chapped lips.

  As Alonzo did what Alonzo did best—gossip nonstop, Deek took down his statement, typing rapidly into the word processing program installed on his hand-held Blackberry™ device. Renee marveled at how adeptly Deek handled the palm-sized device. He always kept up with the latest trends in technology. She recalled how his house overflowed with high-tech gadgetry and computer equipment. When they had first met at the beginning of the summer, Deek had told her that he always loved electronics and technology. After graduating with a BS in Information Systems at 21, he landed a contractor position at IBM Corporation as a systems engineer. He stayed there for a few years until the corporate routine bored him. Eventually, he joined the Metropolitan Police Department and moved up the ranks to Detective Lieutenant in Homicide Division at just 28 years old. Going from a world of developing and installing software to catching criminals responsible for murder was a huge leap. But apparently, Deek still considered himself a techie at heart.