Deliver Us From Evil (8 page)

“Have you talked with Mrs. Novak recently?” Farrell asked.

“I spoke to her for a few minutes at the funeral.”

“My understanding is that you
worked
for Father Reiniger. Isn’t that true, ma’am?”

It was if he’d touched a sensitive nerve. “Yes. That’s right.”

“In what capacity?”

“I was Father’s housekeeper.”

“How long did you work for him, ma’am?”

“I worked for him for almost a year.” Her eyes suddenly went narrow. “I suppose you heard I was terminated. Fired.”

“There
was
some talk of that. Yes,” Farrell said.

Her face turned grim. “And he had the audacity, the
nerve
to tell everybody I was sloughing-off on my job. That I was lazy, never did anything!” She paused momentarily. “That was nonsense, Detective. Pure crap! And he knows it!”

“What do you mean, Mrs. Lombardi?”

The woman’s voice took on an ominous tone. “There were things going on in that rectory that few people knew about, Detective. And I mean,
bad
things.”

“Would you care to elaborate on that, ma’am?” Juarez said.

“No. I really would rather not. In fact I was
told
not to discuss the case.”

Farrell was puzzled. “You were told not to discuss the case? By whom, Mrs. Lombardi?”

She reflected briefly on what he had said. “A man came by yesterday. He said he was from the District Attorney’s office. In fact, he handed me
this!”
She reached over to the small end table nearby and picked up a legal-sized, business envelope. She handed it to Farrell. “It’s what they call a subpoena, isn’t it?”

Farrell quickly opened the envelope and extracted the folded document inside. “That’s correct, ma’am,” he said, his eyes scanning the white sheet of paper.

“They want me as a witness in court? Why, I’ve never even
been
in a courtroom before! Not in my entire life! What does all this mean, Detective?”

Farrell smiled reassuringly. “It means you will show up in court to testify for the prosecution.”

“What would happen if I just ignored the subpoena? Threw it away? Burned it?”

“I wouldn’t advise that, ma’am. You will be held in contempt of court. It could be very serious. You could even be facing jail-time.”

There was a long, uneasy silence. She changed her position; recrossed her legs. “Will I have to be facing Father Reiniger?”

“Yes. But that’s not going to be a problem, Mrs. Lombardi. All you have to do is tell the truth as you know it.”

“The truth.” Her face broke into a slightly-contemptuous, diamond-hard smile. “As far as
I
am concerned, Reiniger is pure trash, he’s scum, the lowest of the low. I
saw
what was going on in that rectory with those boys. I
know
what was going on up at Half Moon Lake. And Reiniger is going to pay for it. On my mother’s grave, Detective, Father Reiniger is going to pay for it!”

Schwartz Drugs was by far the oldest drug store in Alta Vista; in fact, by many, it was already being considered a landmark. Sheldon Schwartz opened the store in 1930, the same year his only son, Leon, had been born. In an almost-Jewish tradition, Leon took over the family business. The store itself hadn’t changed much in fifty years; perhaps that was part of its charm. There was a horseshoe counter and a dozen or so leatherette-covered stools. Facing this, and adjacent to the windows overlooking Alta Vista Boulevard, was a string of three or four Naugahyde-upholstered booths. Leon Schwartz was a big man. Seventyish, gray-haired, with a ruddy complexion, and definitely overweight, he sported a thick, bushy mustache. Curiously enough, he took on the look of a large, beached walrus. It was about 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon. Business was slow at the moment. Schwartz was standing behind the open cash register going over the day’s receipts. All at once he sensed someone was watching him. He glanced up. It was Detective Farrell. “Oh! Can I help you, sir?” he said.

Farrell immediately flashed his ID. “Detective Farrell, San Bernardino Police. I was told I might find Mark Novak here, sir. Can you help me on that?”

Schwartz was taken by surprise. “Uh, uh, yeah! Mark’s here. He’s out back. Why don’t you just take a seat, Detective, and I’ll go get him.”

“Thank you,” Farrell said, and sat down in the nearby booth.

Schwartz closed the cash register, and with a pronounced waddle, began to make his way toward the kitchen in the rear. The kitchen was filled with steam from an automatic dishwasher. He found young Novak bending over a large, stainless-steel sink, scrubbing a grease-caked roasting pan. Schwartz came up behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hey, Mark! There’s some cop out here, wants to talk to you. A detective with the San Berdoo Police!”

Novak dried his hands on a towel hanging near the sink and began to remove the apron he was wearing. “Okay, Mr. Schwartz, I’ll be right there!” Mark, having just turned seventeen, was lean, muscular and like Danny, was possessed with his mother’s good-looks. He exited the kitchen and walked over to where Farrell was seated. He grabbed the detective’s hand. “I’m Mark Novak,” he said. “Glad to meet you, Detective.” The boy sat down, opposite.

Leon Schwartz was quite sure he knew what Farrell wanted to talk to the kid about; the Danny Novak case was on everybody’s mind. Schwartz went back to the register and pretended to be counting the cash. The fact that he was eavesdropping was not lost on Farrell. For this reason, the conversation with Mark was kept low, confidential.

“I won’t be taking up too much of your time, Mark,” Farrell said, “but I need to ask you a few questions. By the way, my condolences on what happened to your brother. I’m very sorry about that, Mark.”

“Thank you.” He hesitated. “I should have been there to take care of him, protect him.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, Mark.” Farrell paused. “I take it, this job you’re doing is just temporary, am I right?”

“Yeah. I graduated in June. Needed a temp job for the summer. Mr. Schwartz talked me into staying a few extra weeks. I’ll be quitting, first of October.”

Farrell’s voice lowered. “How
is
Schwartz? Treat you okay?”

“Yeah, he’s okay. Long as I do my job, he doesn’t hassle me.”

“Good.” Farrell paused again. “I was talking with your mother up at the lake. Have you seen her lately?”

“Only at Danny’s funeral.” Mark seemed reticent to talk. “My mother and I don’t get along very well.”

“As I recall, she told me there was some sort of disagreement between you two. You and your mother had a difference of opinion about certain things. What was all
that
about, Mark?”

Again, Mark was reticent. “Well, Mom and me don’t always see things, eye-to-eye.”

“It must have been pretty serious,” Farrell interjected. “In fact, she asked you to move out. Isn’t that true, Mark?”

“Yeah. I moved in with my aunt. She lives a few blocks away from Mom.”

“Uh-huh.” Farrell paused. “I understand your mother and father are divorced?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“How long ago, Mark?”

“Almost five years ago.”

“How did you get along with your father?”

“Most times it was a train-wreck. We didn’t get along at all.”

“How so?”

“Nothing I did was ever good enough for him. If I got straight ‘A-minuses’ in school, he’d ridicule me, humiliate me. He wanted me to get straight ‘A’s’. Whatever I did, was wrong. He’d call me an idiot, a moron. He always told me I was a pathetic loser. Once, he said, ‘You schmuck! You’ll never amount to anything!”

“Did he ever hit you?”

Mark smiled a little. “Once I came home with straight ‘D’s’ on my report card. He beat the crap out of me.”

“Did this happen very often?”

“Often enough. I was glad when Mom and him split, lemme tell ya.”

“Do you ever see him?”

“Naw. He never somes around.”

“Uh-huh. I see.”

“I saw him at the funeral, but he totally ignored me.”

Farrell paused again. “Do you want to talk about this problem you had with your mother?”

Mark hesitated. “It had to do with Father Reiniger.”

“I’m sure you know. I’m sure you are aware that Father Reinger was arrested for sexually abusing your brother.”

“Yeah. That’s what I heard.”

“He was released on a $300,000 bond. His trial is set for next Tuesday, September 21
^st
.”

“What happens if he is convicted?”

Farrell’s look was dour. “He
could
be facing up to twenty years in prison, on that charge alone.”

“What about if he’s found guilty of murder?”

“Life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. Or even the death penalty. He paused. “I’d like to ask you a yes-or-no question, Mark.”

“Okay. What’s that?”

“Did Father Reiniger ever touch you in an inappropriate manner? Did he ever molest you? Sexually abuse you?”

“Yes. He did.”

Farrell was unmoved. “How many times? More than once?”

“Yeah. Many times. I was an altar boy. It happened over and over again, after Mass.”

“And you finally told your mother?”

“Yes. I did.”

“She didn’t believe you?”

“No. She said I was a liar! She became very angry with me.”

“So, she kicked you out. You went to live with your aunt?”

“That’s right.”

“Tell me, Mark, did you ever tell anyone
else
about this? That Reiniger was molesting you?”

“Yeah. Later on, I told a couple of the guys in school.”

“And?”

“A big mistake.”

“Why is that?”

“They spread the word around. They started calling me queer, a faggot!”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Mark.” There was a long pause. “Tell me, would you be willing to testify in court, before a judge and jury, that Father Reiniger did these things to you? That he continually molested you? That he sexually abused you? Would you be willing to testify these allegations are true, Mark?”

“Yes. I would.”

Farrell’s eyes narrowed. “Reiniger has to be put off the streets. He needs to serve time. He needs to be punished for what he did to your brother. You
will
testify on your brother’s behalf, Mark?”

Mark’s voice was low, determined, when he spoke. “Yes. I will.”

Immediately following Danny’s funeral, on Friday, September 10
^th
, Carolyn Novak had invited a few friends and relatives over to her home. Father Reiniger was conspicuously missing; her ex-husband, Karl was a no-show; her neighbor, Tom Pierce, was ‘like a rock.’ To the casual observer, Carolyn seemed to be holding up pretty well; she was joking and laughing with the guests; she was in control. In truth, she was putting on a brave front; beneath the veneer, she was heartbroken. She tried not to think about Danny, and when she did, she felt a burning, searing sensation, deep inside her stomach.