Betrayal of Justice Read online

  “What’s the qualification?” Zack bore in.

  “I don’t know if his role is limited to molestation cases. He might investigate other matters for the church, some sort of security man,” Costigan speculated.

  “Have you ever dealt with him before on any other matter?”

  “No.”

  “And you simply did whatever this mysterious, unknown guy told you?” Zack pressed.

  “It wasn’t like that,” Costigan wailed. “My bishop instructed me to follow his orders for the good of my church. When I found out what Gerry did to the boys, I realized it was a flawed policy. By then, however, it was too late.”

  “Too late for what?” Zack implored.

  “Too late to help the boys. Jennifer told me the scope of Gerry’s conduct, as the boys told their therapist. Until then, I didn’t really know. Perhaps I could have spoken up earlier, told Jennifer. But, she discovered how serious this was before I did. The boys were already in therapy, and their therapist knew everything. At that point, it was too late for me to correct my mistake. I’ve apologized to Jenny. I am truly sorry,” Father Jon lamented.

  “As a parish priest, have you been advised of the existence of, or ordered to attend any seminars on child abuse by members of the clergy?”

  “No.”

  Zack continued to attack. “Have you received any literature from the church on how to deal with these situations if or when they arise?”

  “No.”

  “Has there been any official position taken by the church either orally or in writing on how to deal with the issue of pedophile priests?”

  “No.”

  Mr. Walsh interrupted, demurely, attempting to interrupt cadence. “Objection. This line of questioning is highly speculative. This man can only testify to whether he has seen such a document or been advised of such a policy, not whether the same exists.”

  “Okay,” Zack declared, enjoying his moment of triumph. He rephrased for Walsh’s sake. “Father Costigan, have you been advised by church hierarchy of the existence of an oral or written policy on how to deal with pedophile priests? Yes or no?”

  “No.”

  “One more question . . .” the coup de grace. “Who advised you to call this mysterious security man who handles clergy pedophile cases for the church?”

  “Objection. Mischaracterization of his testimony.”

  “Excuse me,” Zack chided, slighting the objection and rephrasing. “Who advised you to call this mysterious security man who seems to handle private investigations that include clergy pedophile cases for the church?”

  “My superior, Bishop Glimesh,” Costigan admitted.

  “Thank you, Father. I have no further questions at this time. I do, however, reserve the right to recall this witness after further discovery is conducted.”

  “No questions,” Walsh sighed.

  Bishop Andrew Glimesh was the next deponent. In responding to Zack’s questions, the bishop admitted church teachings affirm a moral responsibility for appropriate sexual behavior. Within the clergy, the vow of celibacy prevents a priest from engaging in sex with any partner, including a same-sex partner. He also admitted the church understands sin more in relation to the sinners than to the victims of sin. In other words, counseling efforts were concentrated on one who confessed to having a problem rather than on those who may have been harmed because of the existence of that problem. He admitted there were many gay members of the clergy, but the subject was rarely discussed.

  Glimesh testified to the existence, among priests, of a rigid code of discreet, gentlemanly behavior. The most vital standard of that code was to minimize risks of disclosure. Pedophilia violated that code since it was quite risky behavior. It also violated all moral teachings as well as the vows of celibacy and chastity. Additionally, homosexual acts were clearly condemned in the Bible, he concluded. He indicated that, according to statistics, the number of pedophilia cases involved a minuscule amount within the total number of priests. He also noted, however, pedophilia in the priesthood was “a very serious problem.”

  Zack realized the importance of the testimony he elicited, important evidence on the church’s position on homosexuality, sexual activity, and pedophilia among priests. To this point, however, he’d received no information regarding the church’s policy on treatment and placement of a priest who was known to be a pedophile. He decided to explore those issues with the bishop.

  “What do you know or feel would be the penalty for violation of these promises?” Zack probed.

  Bishop Glimesh chuckled. “Eternal hellfire. I—you know, what’s the penalty? Put in that I laughed.”

  “At the question or the answer?” Zack smirked.

  Bishop Glimesh sighed, “There is no penalty. The penalty is simply the moral failing or fault with the person.”

  “Do church laws recognize any penalty for homosexual conduct of any kind aside from those contained in the Bible?” Zack demanded.

  “Yes. Homosexuality is grounds for a marriage annulment.”

  “Is that it?”

  “As far as I know,” the bishop appeared to search his memory.

  “So the church is more concerned with how homosexuality affects a marriage than it is with how it affects its clergy, is that correct?” Zack remarked.

  “No, that is not correct,” Glimesh snarled.

  “Name me one passage of law or rule from any church codification that deals with the issue of homosexuality or pedophilia in the priesthood.”

  “I can’t,” Glimesh conceded.

  “How about a position paper?” Zack fumed.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Have you ever been officially advised in writing of any official position the church has taken concerning pedophilia in the clergy?”

  “No. The church’s position about such vile behavior is obvious,” Glimesh suggested.

  “Have you ever been advised that an official position exists?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “And there are no penalties you are aware of, correct?”

  “Objection! Asked and answered,” Walsh interjected.

  “I’ll take the answer,” Zack demanded.

  Bishop Glimesh’s arrogant and defiant manner evaporated. “No. I already told you, no,” he whispered.

  “Then any priest, gay or straight, could violate his oath of celibacy or chastity, pick up, and carry on, and the church would do nothing?” Zack pressed.

  Glimesh took a deep breath, again, attempting to unbend. “No, it would be up to his bishop to determine the appropriate discipline,” he opined.

  “Oh, and where is that written?” Zack huffed.

  “It isn’t written; it’s understood.” His frustration was palpable.

  “And how would the individual bishop determine punishment?”

  “Based upon the harm caused, probably,” the exasperated bishop sighed.

  “Harm to whom?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “It would depend on whether it caused a scandal and whether the scandal was significant and public, wouldn’t it?” Zack charged.

  “Objection. Counsel is badgering the witness, and the question calls for speculation,” Mr. Walsh interjected.

  “Speculation as to what?” Zack retorted.

  “In the absence of a specific policy on how to deal with this issue, how a particular bishop would deal with a situation that he has not yet encountered, would be speculation, at best,” Walsh argued.

  “You’re right, Counsel. That’s exactly why such a written policy should exist. If the church had a consistent and no-nonsense policy to deal with situations like this one before they happened, many of them wouldn’t happen. Thank you for pointing that out.”

  “That’s not what I meant…” Walsh stammered.

  “I’m not interested in what you meant. I’m interested in what this witness meant. Whose harm were you talking about, Bishop?”

  “Why . . . uh . . . both
. . . yes . . . both, the church and the victim,” Glimesh capitulated.

  “And the harm you are concerned about regarding the church is the potential of public scandal, isn’t that correct?”

  Glimesh lowered his head and whispered, exasperated, “Yes, I suppose it is. But that is not outweighed by our concern for our young victims.”

  Zack continued to hammer away. Walsh continued to object. Zack’s final victory came as Glimesh, in response to a blistering attack, testified he wasn’t notified of any tendency toward or prior conviction for pedophilia on Gerry’s part. Zack knew this was perjury, a trump card he would play when needed. Despite placing many objections on the record, Walsh, wisely, opted not to question the bishop.

  ***

  After the depositions were completed and the witnesses were dismissed, Zack remained in the conference room at Brodman Longworth to review his notes. Discovering prior conduct was the key to this case, the key to unlocking its riches. The church’s defense would be that it could not prevent what it did not know. It could not counsel or train avoidance of a malady that wasn’t evident in the history of this individual. If Zack could prove there was a history and the church was aware of it, the sky was the limit on a jury award.

  What was going on in Berea with Micah? Zack hoped progress was being made toward discovering Gerry’s history in Berea. Zack needed to get back to his office, type deposition memos, and get ready for dinner with Jennifer. This would be their third date. They were to meet at Mezza in West Bloomfield at 7:00 p.m. It was 4:00 p.m., so he had to hustle. It would be at least forty-five minutes in rush hour to get back to the office up the Lodge. If he left now, he might beat the heavy traffic . . . His thoughts were interrupted when Walsh returned to the conference room.

  “You want to rent space until this case is over, Blake?” Walsh chuckled.

  “Funny,” Zack snickered. “Not a bad idea. I’m sure I can trust your office staff to respect my privacy when I’m in court.”

  “Absolutely, you could. After all, we’re all officers of the court.”

  “Yeah, well, just the same, I’ll pass. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  “Don’t mention it. By the way, speaking of offers, do you have a demand on this case?”

  “I thought the official position of the church was ‘as much as necessary for treatment, but not an ounce for tribute,’” Zack chided.

  “Positions change. Defense costs and attorney fees will be enormous with this type of litigation. The church may be persuaded to apply an economic reality test to the case, especially if I tell them the depos did not go well.”

  “Thanks for the compliment,” Zack noted.

  “It wasn’t meant as a compliment, asshole. You didn’t do shit today. But my client doesn’t know that. If I say, for instance, you scored some points on issues of priest training or screening, they’ll believe me, even if it’s not true,” Walsh quipped.

  “But, of course, it’s not true. I scored no points in those areas?”

  “None that will have any effect on the results of this litigation. You and I both know the smoking gun, and you’ll never produce it. No smoking gun, no case against the church and a big hit against an uncollectible priest,” Walsh gibed.

  “So, what are you suggesting?” Zack wondered.

  “I can probably convince them to resolve this case to avoid a lengthy discovery period and public trial. The criminal case would have to also go away quietly,” Walsh suggested.

  “Jennifer will never agree to anything like that. There has to be some public admission of liability and a public conviction so Gerry can no longer be transferred without new parishes being made aware of his propensities,” Zack explained.

  “The church will never agree to that.”

  “That’s what I thought. I guess we’ll proceed then.”

  “Take your client the offer. It’s your duty,” Walsh warned.

  “What, specifically, is the offer?”

  “Five million. Complete confidentiality. Criminal conviction sealed. Promise by the church, but not in writing, that all subsequent placements will either be away from children or with prior notice of Gerry’s condition.”

  Zack didn’t flinch. He was damned excited, but he couldn’t let on to Walsh. Besides, he knew Jennifer wouldn’t accept any amount that required confidentiality.

  “Five million dollars is an awful lot of money for a case I’m not winning. I’ll take it to her, but she won’t accept it. For Jennifer, this case isn’t about money, never was,” Zack advised.

  “What’s it about, then? Revenge?” Walsh vented.

  “No, justice, simple justice. We tend to forget we went to law school to pursue justice for our clients. We get so caught up in the game of the law, we forget the purpose.”

  “Excellent oratory,” Walsh snickered. “Take her the offer. If she’s amenable, I can get the money. If not . . . perhaps certain pictures may come to light. Perhaps neither of you would want that?”

  “Whatever money can’t buy, a little leverage can buy, right?” Zack bristled.

  Walsh shrugged and chided. “I’ve yet to meet what money can’t buy.”

  “You’ve met it. You just don’t know it yet,” Zack warned.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “We know about the pictures. We don’t care. Jennifer can’t be bought with money or threats. She wants this predator stopped. She wants the church to stop protecting or covering up for him. Settle this reasonably with no gag order or confidentiality clause. Do the right thing for a change. Only then will she consider a settlement.” Zack advised.

  “See you in court,” Walsh sighed.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Boys!” Jennifer called from the bottom of the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. “Your supper is getting cold. Come down and eat.”

  She received no answer, so climbed the stairs and knocked gently on their bedroom door. Jake invited her in, voice quiet, almost in a whisper. “Come in.”

  She opened the door. The boys lay in their separate beds, facing the wall.

  “I have dinner for you guys. It’s getting cold.”

  “We’re not hungry, Mom,” Kenny murmured.

  “What have you been doing all day? You’ve hardly left this room. It’s a beautiful day, and there is still an hour or so of daylight left. How about we go to the park after dinner? You guys can toss a football or something.” She prodded.

  “We’re not in the mood,” Kenny sulked. “We’re tired. We’ll just lay here until we fall asleep.”

  “Yeah,” Jake agreed, mimicking his brother’s mood.

  “But it’s Saturday! You guys love the park, and it really is beautiful outside,” she encouraged.

  “Not today, Mom, we don’t feel like it,” Jake whispered. “And I don’t feel like seeing anybody I know. Another time, okay? I’m tired.”

  “I think I will go to services tomorrow. Father Jon is speaking about tomorrow’s opportunities. Come with me?”

  “Get serious, Mom. I don’t think so,” Kenny scoffed.

  “No, thanks, Mom,” Jake concurred.

  Jennifer gazed at the backs of her boys. “Okay, guys. I won’t force you. May I have a hug and kiss?”

  “Not tonight, Mom,” they sighed in unison.

  “Way too tired,” mumbled Jake.

  “Me too,” managed Kenny.

  Jennifer backed out of the room, heartbroken, and gently closed the door. Was the lawsuit a mistake? Would they ever recover from this nightmare? Oh, Jim! What should I do? What would you do? Give me a sign, any sign. She turned and headed down the stairs to clean up the dinner dishes.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Micah sipped his coffee in the living room of Pearl and Julius O’Connell. He approached them with a story about the church being sued by some former parishioners of St. Patrick’s for the possible disappearance of a large sum of money from the St. Patrick’s covenant fund. They invited him into their rather plain split-level hom
e. This was a grandparents’ home—photos of grandkids adorned the walls.

  Something was amiss with these two, and the pictures gave it away. According to Jessica, their grandchildren would be fifteen and twelve, but the photos didn’t show any kid over the age of ten. The couple was friendly enough. That wasn’t the issue. They seemed to be forthcoming, so that wasn’t it either. Their story didn’t add up. According to Julius and Pearl, their son and daughter-in-law called one day and announced they were moving to Florida. Pat claimed he was transferred. The company bought their home, and the family was leaving for Florida right away.

  A week later, the whole family—Pat, Pam, and the two boys—showed up at the house late, about 10:00 p.m. to say good-bye. They were leaving immediately. They had a long drive ahead of them and wanted to get a few hours down I-75. They would call with an address and phone number. Pat called a few times since, but he wouldn’t give either of them an address or phone number. ‘It’s better this way,’ Pat claimed.

  Pearl was incredibly hurt. This elderly couple was completely shut off from their son and grandchildren. But, there was something about the story Micah couldn’t wrap his arms around. It sounded like a fairy tale, a story a grandmother would tell a grandchild. Micah wondered whether the Florida part of the story was true.

  “Did your son and his family belong to St. Pat’s?” Micah queried.

  “Yes. They were devoted members of the church. The boys were altar boys and sang in the church choir. We went to services every Sunday to watch and listen. Such a moving service . . .” Pearl sighed and tailed off.

  She wore the pants in this family and did all the talking. That much was obvious. Micah wished he could get Julius alone for a few minutes. The old man stayed quiet and looked uncomfortable.

  “Oh, how often did you attend?”

  “Every time the choir sang, at least twice a month.”

  “Did the boys have contact with Father Gerry Bartholomew while he was at St. Pat’s?”

  “Oh, yes. What a nice man!” Pearl gushed. “He was wonderful with the children. We were all sad to see him transferred. He took the boys on camping trips to Cedar Point and overnights to Cleveland or Michigan. Everyone loved him. Most of us silently prayed he’d take over for Father Foley when he retired.”