Betrayal of Justice Read online

  “Lose the attitude, gentlemen,” she ordered. “Are you going to spend the rest of your lives in this room? Why don’t you get out and enjoy the fresh spring air and sunshine? It’s a beautiful day! Why don’t you see if there is a pickup game at Lakes or something? You used to love the outdoors. Now I can’t get you to leave your room. And this room! It looks like a cyclone hit it! I want these games, cards, and balls picked up this instant!”

  “How’s this?” Kenny scowled. He picked up a baseball and threw it at the wall, putting a large hole in the drywall. “See, I played baseball! Happy?”

  Jake mimicked Kenny’s behavior and swiped at an active Monopoly board, scattering cards, player pieces, and Monopoly money all over the already disaster-zone bedroom.

  “That’s enough!” cried Jennifer. “You boys are grounded until further notice. I want this room cleaned up immediately or no supper! And, Kenneth Tracey, you better think of ways to earn some money to pay for the repair of that wall!”

  “Whatever,” Kenny snarled. “I didn’t want to go outside in the first place, and I sure as hell don’t want to go to Lakes.”

  “Yeah,” Jake offered, attempting without success to equal his brother’s animus.

  Jennifer left the room and slammed the door in utter frustration. What was going on with these two? They hadn’t been themselves since the camping trip. In fact, they hadn’t even unpacked their backpacks. She saw them, amid the rubble, in the corner of the room, opened but still fully packed. They loved the outdoors and church activities. Now she couldn’t get them to leave their bedroom—and the anger, the sadness . . .

  Jake’s cheeks were often red and wet. Jennifer tried to comfort him. “Jake, honey, I love you. Please tell Mommy what’s wrong.”

  Jake shook his head no. Jennifer reached out, hugged him, and looked into his eyes. There was a haunting sadness in his beautiful blue eyes, his mother’s eyes. These days, they exhibited only pain.

  Kenny was quiet, aloof, and angry. Jennifer tried to talk to him, but he was combative. She observed him staring into space, scowling. She looked into his eyes, Jim’s eyes, and saw unbridled hatred. He spent hours in his room, speaking to no one, doing nothing. His anger was escalating. He threw a ball through his bedroom wall! His younger brother was trying to imitate him. Something was seriously wrong. But what could it be?

  The boys’ antisocial antics were abrupt and inexplicable, but their origin was somehow related to their recent camping trip. The trip was the key. She was convinced. Maybe some camper embarrassed one of her sons in front of others. But why would such an incident make Jake so sad or Kenny so angry? She decided to visit Father Gerry to see if he could shed some light on the situation. She made the short drive to the church and found him tending the garden.

  “Jenny!” Gerry chirped. “How nice to see you. I haven’t seen you or the boys in church lately.”

  “Father,” Jennifer responded, getting right to the point, “I am very concerned about my boys. They’ve been acting very strangely since the camping trip. Jake is sad and tearful. Kenny explodes, tells me to leave him alone, and storms off to his room. They don’t do anything except go to school, come home and mope. Did you notice if anything bad happened on that trip?”

  “Nothing I noticed,” Gerry considered. “Would you like me to talk to the boys?”

  “Oh, yes, Father, that would normally be fine, but I can’t get either to come to church. I’ve been trying for two weeks.”

  “That does sound serious,” Gerry pondered. “How about I come over to your house and talk to the boys?”

  “Would you, Father? It wouldn’t be too much trouble? I’d be eternally grateful. Maybe they’ll open up for you. The past two weeks have been living hell, and I’m getting nowhere.”

  “It’s no trouble at all. What time would you like me to come by?” He would talk to the boys and do what was necessary.

  “Why don’t you come for dinner? I’m making their favorite, spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “Why that’s my favorite too,” Gerry lied. “What time do you want me?”

  “How’s six o’clock?”

  “Sounds fine. I’ll be there. Do you need me to bring anything?”

  “Just you . . . and . . . perhaps a prayer or two,” she smiled.

  “Prayer helps whatever ails you. I’ll see you at six.”

  “Bless you, Father, and thank you,” Jennifer sighed. She turned and walked to the car, feeling upbeat and hopeful for the first time in two weeks.

  Gerry Bartholomew watched Jennifer’s van disappear down the road and cursed under his breath. These boys need to understand God loves them, wants them to enjoy the outdoors, and wants them to understand love of God is often demonstrated through love of man.

  ***

  Gerry arrived for dinner promptly at six. Jennifer didn’t advise the boys of his impending visit. She hoped to surprise them. She took Gerry to the living room and invited him to sit. She called the boys to dinner. As had been their practice for the past two weeks, they were holed up in their bedroom playing board games or creating scrapbooks for their baseball card collections. They liked the security of their room these days. It was the only place they seemed remotely comfortable.

  As the two boys bounded down the stairs, Kenny spotted Gerry and stopped dead in his tracks. He stuck out his arm sternly, like a traffic cop, stopping Jake on the stairs. Jake was terrified at the sight of Gerry and immediately hid behind his older brother.

  “What’s he doing here?” Kenny demanded.

  “I invited him to have dinner with us. You haven’t been to church in two weeks, and Father Gerry misses you. I made your favorite, spaghetti and meatballs. Come and eat.”

  “We’re not hungry,” Kenny spoke for both of them. He and Jake then turned their backs and started back up the stairs.

  “Kenny and Jake Tracey!” Jennifer cried. “You get back here this instant and eat your dinner! And apologize to Father Gerry! You're being rude, and I don’t like it! You’ve been moping around for two weeks now, and it’s breaking my heart, but I won’t let you take it out on Father Gerry!”

  “You want us to say we’re sorry to him?” Kenny cried. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “Right this instant!” Jennifer refused to soften her stance.

  “He’s the one who should be sorry,” Kenny shouted, continuing to shield his brother. He and Jake turned away and started back up the stairs. Jennifer began to protest again, but Gerry stopped her.

  “Let them go, Jenny,” he suggested. “I’ll go up and talk to them. Maybe I can get them to come down.”

  “Oh, thank you, Father. Perhaps, you can find out what’s troubling them.”

  “I’ll sure give it a try.”

  She watched him go up the stairs, and something in the back of her mind was worried about the impending interaction. A few stray thoughts began to coalesce into an idea. What if the boys’ current behavior had its genesis on the camping trip with the man she sent upstairs? The boys were indeed not themselves. What does this have to do with Father Gerry? She shook those thoughts away and went back to preparing the dinner.

  Gerry somehow persuaded the boys to come to the table. Dinner was uneventful. Jennifer and Gerry engaged in light conversation about nothing in particular. Kenny and Jake ate almost nothing in complete silence.

  Shortly after dinner, Gerry arose to say goodbye. As he left leaving, with Jennifer’s attention momentarily elsewhere, he flashed the boys a sinister glare. Jennifer sent the boys upstairs to wash up for bedtime. After doing the dinner dishes, she started up the stairs toward the boys’ room. She heard the two boys talking.

  “You’ve got to be brave, and you’ve got to be quiet,” she heard Kenny say.

  “But I’m scared, Kenny,” Jake murmured. “Really scared.”

  “I know, but I won’t ever let him hurt you again,” Kenny assured.

  “You promise?” Jake managed.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die,” Kenny
promised.

  “You can’t die, Kenny,” Jake panicked. “Daddy died, and Father Bill left us. Don’t leave me all alone.”

  “I won’t die, Jake. I love you. I will never leave you alone.” He spoke in a calm voice well beyond his years.

  “I love you too, Kenny,” sobbed Jake.

  “Good, now get under the covers. Mom will be in to say goodnight.”

  “Okay,” Jake calmed, regaining self-control.

  Outside the door, Jennifer listened in horror. What was it? Someone hurt them. Who? Her thoughts were gathering, inching toward a conclusion, but she resisted. Did something happen at school? Was someone being bullied? The camping trip was fun, wasn’t it?

  She decided that the boys needed professional help but not that night. That night, she would hug them, kiss them, and put them to bed. That night, she would simply love them with all her heart.

  Chapter Five

  The telephone rang in Father Jonathan Costigan’s private office. He answered, “Our Lady of the Lakes, Father Jon Costigan speaking.”

  “Hello, Jon,” a deep male voice greeted him. “What’s the current status?”

  Oh God, not him! This character was a member of the church hierarchy, partly responsible for Bartholomew’s transfer to his parish. They shoved this bastard down Jon’s throat. His identity was a mystery—clergymen who had contact with him referred to him, simply, as “the Voice.”

  Jon wanted to appoint his own assistant pastor. When he protested this forced transfer, he was offered a transfer of his own, to a northern Canadian parish. His Lakes parishioners were the only ‘family’ Jon had. He had no choice but to accept Bartholomew.

  Jon was disgusted the church would endanger his parish to accommodate a predator. He privately wished a church pastor had more authority. Alas, such was life in an organization as large and complex as the church. A parish priest, even the head pastor of a parish the size of Lakes, had little control. Am I not competent enough to interview and hire my own assistant?

  “Well . . . Gerry visited the family last night. He convinced Jennifer to let him up to the boys’ room to talk to them in private. Little did Jennifer suspect that the problem is the priest,” Costigan snarled.

  “Cut the theatrics, Jon. How did the meeting go?” The Voice wasn’t in the mood for a lecture from a subordinate.

  “Gerry thinks it went well. Apparently, they had a nice chat about spirituality and acceptance of God’s love,” he grumbled.

  “Get a grip, Jon.”

  “I want this son of a bitch out of my parish, ASAP.”

  “We can’t do that, Jon. Too soon, it will arouse suspicion.”

  “Who are you people? Who cares about arousing suspicion? I care about safety and welfare, especially of the children. Who is concerned for their well-being?” Jon demanded. He didn’t care about chain of command.

  The Voice softened. “You do, Jon. All of us do. A mistake was made in this case. But, we must look at the bigger picture. A scandal would be very detrimental to the church and your parish. It would affect the future of all our children, not just these two. Do all we can to help the Tracey boys? Absolutely, but we must proceed in a very discreet manner. We must limit Gerry’s contact with children to only public events. This can’t happen again. I’m counting on you to keep him under control.”

  “That is easier said than done, sir. He didn’t tell me he was leaving last night. I didn’t even know he was gone until I noticed the VW missing.”

  “We knew he left and where he went. We’re watching him, Jon.”

  “You guys seem to have all the answers. You have the situation under control. Why do you need me?”

  “We need him observed at the parish. Carefully schedule his time and activities. Keep him away from kids. Can you do that, Jon?”

  “I’ll do my best, but not for the likes of you. I’ll do it for the safety of the kids.”

  “Very well then,” the Voice was placated. “We’ll keep in touch. And, Jon?”

  “Yes?”

  “Communication is a two-way street. Keep us informed.”

  No answer.

  “Jon?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can we count on you?”

  “Yes.” Jon shuddered at the realization that these men, whoever they were, were probably powerful enough to expel him. Who would watch over the children then?

  “Oh, and, Jon? Pay a visit to the Tracey family. Offer your assistance. Tell Jennifer Tracey that the church knows where the boys can get excellent psychological or psychiatric counseling. Convince her that we know good people and that we’ll pick up the bill.”

  “Why would we do that? Won’t that arouse suspicion?” Jon was surprised by this sudden gesture of kindness.

  “I think not. Besides, it’s the right thing to do. If we can get the boys to our mental health professionals rather than one of her choosing—a loose cannon, so to speak—we can monitor the boys’ progress much better.”

  “You mean brainwash them,” Jon charged.

  “You watch too much television, Jon. Brainwashing? Absurd. Concentrate on your duties.”

  “Thanks for the advice. Are we finished?”

  “For now, Jon. You’ll be hearing from us again. Good-bye. God bless.”

  Father Jonathan Costigan hung up the phone and glanced at his watch. He had time before his seminar to drive over to Jennifer’s. He’d known her a long time, baptized both boys, and watched them grow. He knew Jim even longer and mourned with the family when God called him to heaven. Jon had always been there for the Tracey family, providing spiritual and friendly guidance when needed. Now, his superiors wanted him to spy on them and make sure they sought treatment from practitioners loyal to the church. He was to help brainwash them and assist in a cover-up.

  He rationalized his assignment. The boys will get the help they need. A scandal would be harmful to all parishioners—adults and children. Perhaps if we can get them discreet counseling, it would be to everyone’s advantage.” Father Jonathan Costigan was a man trying to convince himself of the truth of a false assertion.

  Chapter Six

  “This is a special Sunday. We are pleased to officially welcome Father Gerry Bartholomew to the pulpit to deliver his first Sunday message to the congregation . . .”

  Father Jon almost choked on his words. He’d been instructed to offer words of welcome to set the stage for Gerry’s first sermon. He was repulsed but did his job. Gerry sauntered to the pulpit, too cocky for Jon’s taste. Gerry raised his arms for quiet, and the congregation grew silent.

  “Thank you, Father Jon, and thanks to all of you. I cherish my first opportunity to address you. I’d like to explain why I became a priest . . .” Gerry began.

  “When I was young, I thought I’d finish school, grow up, go to college, get married, start a career, start and build a family. God chose another path for me, and I have never turned back or been sorry. I have a much larger family and many children whom I can help shape. Children are the Lord’s most precious creatures, and I humbly accept my role in shaping their hearts and minds. This vital work with children is the principal reason that I became a priest. Children represent our future, the future of any race or religion.

  “Psalm 127:3 says, ‘Certainly sons are a gift from the LORD, the fruit of the womb, a reward.’ In other words, God blesses people with children and children are a blessing. The following verse 4 says, ‘Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the sons born in one’s youth.” As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth.’ Again, the theme is that children are an asset and a blessing . . .

  “In the Bible, God uses the simple but essential word children a remarkable 1,650 times. The term child is used another 190 times. Three of the Ten Commandments are devoted to sanctifying and safeguarding the family. It is safe to say that God loves children.

  “How many parents enjoy the simple pleasure of watching their newborn child sleep? This is a profoundly boring activity, yet
parents derive great delight from it. When you have your own baby, when the grumpiest among us observe the interaction of a small child with his or her parent—even the cranky heart becomes full of warmth.

  “Children are amazing. All of us have a responsibility to treat them and handle them as blessings. As I gaze out at the congregation, I am pleased to see so many blessed children. You are, indeed, a blessing from God . . .

  “It is easy to devote my ministry to children. Church doctrine precludes me from marrying. Priests are required to remain celibate. We will have no children of our own. Why? Because you are my family, your children are my children. The church endues the title of ‘Father’ on priests, and I am honored to be a ‘father’ to your children. I have wonderful, pleasurable activities and events planned for them. I enjoy sports, travel, camping, and preaching the gospel. Hopefully, I can provide spiritual guidance and enlightenment to your children, as they grow from child to teenager to adult. I especially enjoy being a role model to teenagers, counseling them, advising them, shaping and molding young minds, attitudes, and sharing the wonders and experiences of life.

  “As children grow into teenagers, I plan to be, if you will permit me, an important part of their lives. Leave them to my care. Trust them to my embrace. As your children are a blessing to you, they are a blessing to me.

  “Today, I invite you to focus on important ways to treat our precious children. First, we must give them understanding. They are gifts from God, miniature replicas of each of you. You want to see yourself? Look for yourself in your children. Children are warm, and they bring warmth to us. They have the ability to make parents and grandparents melt in their hands. We feel that warmth when a baby reaches out with his or her little hand and touches our faces or looks into our eyes. We melt when they first say, ‘Mommy’ or ‘Daddy.’ When they’re young, they’re not ashamed to hug or kiss their parents. I am a firm believer in and practitioner of hugs, in physical love, physical displays of affection.” Gerry flushed with desire. The congregation could not detect this subtle hint of his sinister nature.