“Detectives?” the desk officer hollered as they were about to exit the station.
“What?” Donny asked nearing the desk.
The officer handed the desk phone to him. “It’s the Medical Center, something about that guy who was shot.”
“This is Detective Smith, who’s this?”
“Yes detective, this is Doctor Haroldson, I was informed someone from your department needed an update on my patient, Simon Teel. Is that correct?”
Donny wasn’t sure who called, but he did have questions for Simon Teel. “Ah, yes, Doctor, when can we see him for questioning?”
“I’m afraid it might be some time before he’s able to answer questions. He’s barely in stable condition at this time, so for now, he’ll stay in the unit, where we can keep a close watch over him.”
“Thanks for your call; I’ll check back in a week or so.” Donny said.
“That would be fine,” he said hanging up.
“What was that all about?” Angel inquired.
“Simon’s doctor said he’s not yet stable enough to answer questions.”
“So, it’s off to Nora’s place as planned?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“Detectives Smith and Jones, do you remember me?”
As they turned, to their complete surprise, there stood Nora Teel. They simultaneously looked at each other, then at her.
“May I please have a word with you detectives?” she said ever so politely.
Detective Smith cleared his throat, “Why, yes ma’am, as a matter of fact, we were just on our way to see you.”
“Oh?”
“Please come with us; we’ll use one of the empty interrogation rooms. That will give us some privacy,” Donny explained leading her to the last room at the end of the hall.
The old wooden chair screeched as it was pulled from under the faded wood table. The simple room contained no two-way glass or hidden camera’s; it was mainly an after thought. On the opposite side of the table were two fold-out steel chairs.
Donny motioned for Nora to occupy the wooden chair, as he and Angel sat in the others.
“Would you care for something to drink?” Donny offered.
“No thanks, I’m fine.” Nora replied.
“Well then, what was it you wanted to see us about?” he began.
“I was wondering what will happen to my son, Simon, since the tragic circumstances of—“
A sudden knock at the door brought everyone’s attention toward it.
Slowly it opened and Chief Rachel Temme’s head leaned in. “Sorry to interrupt, I need a word with you two.”
“Excuse us, we’ll be right back,” Donny said as the two stood and went out into the hall.
“I have a Father Crawford in my office. Said he wants to speak with you two.” Chief Temme said.
“He say what about?” Angel asks.
“Yes, he wants to confess, so I put him in interrogation room four. He’s all yours,” she said walking off.
“That’s kind of ironic, isn’t it?” Angel states.
“What’s ironic?” Donny asks not sure of her meaning.
“A priest wants to confess, get it?”
“Yes, I get it, ha ha.” He said dryly.
Popping his head back into the room, Detective Smith addressed Nora, “Please forgive us, something has come up. Would you mind waiting here for a few minutes longer?”
“Why no, anything to help out.” Nora smiled sweetly.
“Thank you.” Closing the door he started for room four, with Angel in tow.
Interrogation room four was well equipped; with two-way observation glass, video camera and recorder, blue steel-framed padded chairs and a steel-framed table to match. Looking through the two-way glass, they watched Father Andy sitting quietly, head hung low. His breathing was so shallow; one at first glance might think him dead.
“I think it would be better if I spoke to him alone,” Donny insisted. “You can observe and listen from here, Angel.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Sorry to say, but people seem to tense up around you,” he fostered as delicately as possible, not wanting to spark a fight.
“Go ahead, no sweat off my ass,” she said, her voice a tad strained, yet controlled.
“Thanks for understanding.”
“Whatever,” she sighed, now looking distant.
Entering the interrogation room, “Sorry to keep you waiting Father. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” his weak voice cracked.
“Okay then, the police chief said you had a confession you wanted to make, is that correct?” Donny started his questioning.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Do you mind if I record this on tape?”
Father Andy looked toward the video-camera. “If you must, then please do so.”
Detective Smith positioned the camera and started taping; as he pushed the small button on the side, a tiny red light glowed steady. Donny gave a brief introduction of who was present, the date and time, and was now ready to begin.
“At this point, I need you to state for the record that you are here of your own volition, and that you waived your right to having an attorney present.”
“I’m Andrew Crawford and I’m here on my own behalf. I need no attorney to help me. Whatever happens now is up to our Lord and Savior. I’m ready for his judgment of my sins.”
“Ah, very well then, let’s begin with your motive for shooting James Butler.”
“I...I didn’t kill James,” he stammered out.
“You did not murder James Butler?” Donny asked puzzled.
“No, of course not,” Father Andy answered slouching back in his chair.
Detective Smith studied him for a moment, than proceeded with his next logical assumption. “Very well then, please tell me why you murdered Linda Lerner.”
“What? I didn’t kill poor Linda; she was my friend and colleague.” He stated.
“Are you here to confess to the shooting of Simon Teel?” Donny now asked, not sure what was taking place.
“No, I didn’t shoot Simon. He was my patient for God’s sake.”
The door to the interrogation room burst open, and in stormed Detective Jones. “Just what the hell are you here to confess then!” she shouted.
Father Andy reeled to one side, almost falling out of his chair. Detective Smith jumped to his feet, as he too was startled by her abrupt entrance.
Regaining his composure, “Detective Jones, I’d like to speak with you out in the hall, now!” Donny roared.
Angel stepped away from Father Andy. As she came to the doorway, she turned and pointed her finger at him. “I’ll be right back, don’t you move.”
As Angel walked up to Donny, he spoke, “What the hell was that Nazi Storm Trooper shit all about?”
“He’s jerking your chain, that pleasant, fancy psychological crap is bullshit. Give me five minutes alone with him and I’ll have this case all wrapped up.” She said staring into his eyes.
“You really don’t get it, do you Detective Jones. That ‘Dirty Harry’ shit doesn’t fly anymore. Time to grow up, and join the new age of interrogation.”
“Fuck you, don’t tell me how to do my job, you punk-assed faggot. I solved more homicides in Texas then you’ve even investigated here in Podunk, Arkansas.”
The rage was building; her eyes danced and her nostrils flared. Donny couldn’t afford having another fist-fight with her, and he valued his job. He decided to reason with her, to try and reach her intellectual side, if possible, before things got out of control.
“Angel, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to criticize your investigative skills. I’m sure your tactics work, but I just wanted to try the soft approach first.”
Angel stepped back. “I hear what you’re saying. I know I get impatient sometimes. Sorry for the ‘punk-assed faggot’ remark. I get a little wound up, as you already know.” Her tone was strained, yet apologetic.
“Yes, I’ve seen you in action, and my balls still ache.” He laughed.
She grinned at his statement. “All right, I get your drift. Go back in, I’ll be a good little girl and just observe.”
“Thanks partner.” Donny patted her on the shoulder as they parted.
Closing the door behind him, he made his way over to the table and sat. “Sorry for the interruption Father, all is well now. I need to understand something. You came to confess, but not to shooting anyone, is that correct?”
“That’s correct, I didn’t shoot or murder anyone,” Father Andy replied softly.
“Now then, what are you here to confess to, Father?” Donny began the questioning again.
Slowly, he summoned the courage to expel the demon that had haunted him for so long, “Many years ago, when I was just a simple parish priest, James Butler was a young altar boy who assisted me in my religious duties. We became very close, and I’m…I’m afraid my lust…got the better of me. I prayed, and prayed, but…” Fighting back the tears and emotions he held inside for so many years, they finally broke free, and his sobs gushed forth.
The door opened. Coming in Angel handed Donny a box of tissue. She came closer and whispered in Donny’s ear, “Tell the priest to blow his nose, and to get on with it. He’s startin’ to get on my last nerve.” She returned to the observation room.
Donny, as always, was astonished at how little compassion Angel had for her fellow man. Handing the box of tissue to Father Andy, “Here, these may help.”
Pulling out several wads of tissue, he began to clean up his face. Wiping away the pool of tears that had descended onto the table top, he then cleaned the mucus from his upper lip. Finally sopping up the slobber on his chin, he was now ready to start again.
Donny sat quietly, waiting for him to regain his composure, as Father Andy blew loudly into a tissue, trying to clear his nasal passages to ease his breathing. Donny flinched when the loud snort echoed throughout the small room. Angel, seeing and hearing what had just occurred, broke into laughter.
“Sorry Detective, I didn’t mean to startle you,” Father Andy consoled.
“Are you ready to continue?” Donny asked.
“Yes, I…” Tears started to well up in his bloodshot eyes.
“Just say it, and you’ll feel much better, Father,” Donny said.
“I…molested James.” The flood of tears and slobber erupted once more.
As those three words hung in the air, Donny made the decision to press on. “Father, I know this is hard, but we need to move on.”
Feeling some relief now that it was out in the open, he wiped his nose and finished dabbing his eyes with another wad of tissue. “This happened over several years. Later, I left that small parish and worked my way up to where I am now. I had long since forgotten about little James, the quiet, shy, altar boy. But he hadn’t forgotten about me. A few years back, he just appeared out of nowhere. Told me if I didn’t give him a job, he’d go to the authorities and ruin me. I’d have lost everything…”
“Not to mention the possibility of jail,” Donny added.
“Oh yes, that too, weighed heavy on my tormented mind. So I gave him the position as head RN on the locked unit, but that wasn’t enough. He later wanted cash, and eventually he demanded more and more.”
“So Butler was blackmailing you?”
“Yes, that’s correct. But he kept demanding more. I didn’t have it. I became desperate. With nowhere to turn, I started stealing from the hospital funds,” he said lowering his head in shame.
“Wait a minute, he’s blackmailing you and you’re embezzling money from the hospital?” Donny asks, trying to keep the facts straight.
“That’s correct, but I never killed him, I’m guilty of embezzlement.”
“And child rape,” Donny noted.
Father Andy began to break down again. Tears streamed down his puffy, red cheeks.
“For the record, did you murder James Butler?” Donny asked point-blank.
“No, I did not.”
“For the record, did you murder Linda Lerner?”
“For heaven’s sake, I didn’t murder Linda or anyone else!” He bellowed.
“Take it easy, Father, it’s my job to ask,” Donny spoke in a soft, reassuring voice. He figured it was best to keep him calm and relaxed as possible during this trying ordeal.
“On the early morning that Simon Teel was shot, Nora Teel phoned your home about forty minutes before she called 911. What did you two speak about? And remember, we’re taping this, and it can be used against you in a court of law,” he warned sternly.
“I’m not here to lie, but to get the truth out, Detective. Nora never spoke to me that morning. I was asleep and the answering machine picked up. I played the messages later when I got up. She simply called my name several times, asking me to please pick up, yet she said nothing further.” His tired, raspy voice grew weak.
“May we have the taped message?”
“I’m sorry, I already erased it.”
“Would you be willing to take a neutron activation test? It checks for gunpowder residue on the hands,” Donny asked.
“Yes, I will Detective.” Father Andy was emotionally exhausted. Slumping forward, he rested his head on the table.
“Relax for a few minutes Father; I need to confer with my partner.” Donny turned the video-camera and recorder off, and then exited the room. Angel was standing right outside the door as he came out.
“Think he’s lying?” Angel asked.
“I think he’s being truthful.”
“I saw the way he looked at you, like you were on the menu, pretty boy,” she laughed.
“What? On the menu?” Donny flashed her a puzzled look.
“You know, he wants to fuck you in the ass, sweet-cheeks. Once those priests get a taste for young boys, they’re hooked.” She grinned wryly.
“I can’t believe they let you carry a gun, you’re not right in the head.” Donny said, shaking his head in disbelief at her warped since of humor.
Angel stopped laughing, and pretended to put on a serious face. “All right, so let me guess. We get your buddy, Sean, to run the gunpowder test on ‘Father Horny’ to see if he’s fibbing or not, correct?”
“Yes, I’ll have him placed in a holding cell, then I’ll schedule the test, and then we’ll speak to Chief Temme to see what charges we need to bring against the Father.” Donny said.
“Then we square-off with Miss Nora, the little Christian lady, with her long plain dresses, right?” Angel said mockingly.
“Yes,” he said dryly.