The Second Coming (27 page)

F
ATHER
J
OHN ENTERED
the cubby sized interrogation room wearing long plaid shorts, a plain short sleeve button down shirt and sandals looking like he was heading to the beach. Kate stared at him with a crinkled look of confusion. This was the monk Mike had been telling her about?

“Dr. Wilson, this is Father John,” Mike said with a smirk.

When Father John saw Kate he was filled with the joy of someone who is seeing a dear old friend for the first time in years. Standing in front of him was the girl he saved from drowning in his dream when he first realized his dreams were real. It was all coming full circle. God obviously had him save her so she could help him find the killer. He wanted to hug her and explain everything to her, but he knew that would alter the course of the future. He was going to have to let God’s plan play out.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Father John said politely as he held her hand in his. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Kate was perplexed. Who was this man?

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she stammered as she gazed into his eyes.

“As I explained to you last night Father, Dr. Wilson is going to ask you some questions about your dreams.”

“I look forward to it,” Father John replied. “Perhaps I can ask her some questions of my own.”

“I would be happy to answer any questions you have,” Kate confirmed as she sat down at the table.

“Is there anything I can get you?” Mike asked as he opened the door to leave.

“No thank you Detective,” Father John replied as he sat across from Kate. “Would you like anything Dr. Wilson?”

“No thank you,” Kate responded as she smiled reassuringly at Mike.

“Good luck,” he said with a hint of irony as he shut the door.

Kate sat across the table staring at Father John with an amused smile on her face. She wouldn’t have believed he was a monk except there was something about him that was familiar and comforting, but she couldn’t place her finger on it.

“You seem surprised,” Father John commented as if it was nothing new to him.

Kate shook her head. “I’m sorry Father, it’s just that when Detective McCormick told me you’re a monk, I was expecting something different.”

“Things are not always as they appear,” Father John cautioned her. “If I was dressed in my robe would I be more credible?”

“I don’t know.”

“I find that people have a hard time getting past the robe and judge me prematurely. I’m going to have a hard enough time convincing the detective that my dreams are real. He already thinks I have a split personality. What do you think?”

Kate was caught off guard. How did he know about Detective McCormick’s theory? “I’m not here to judge you. I’m simply here to determine if it is possible that you have Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

“I understand.”

“Tell me about your family. Do you have any siblings?”

“I have four older brothers.”

“So are you the baby of the family?” Kate asked leadingly. “You don’t have any sisters?”

“No sisters. It was all boys in our house when I was growing up.”

“Except for your mother,” Kate reminded him.

Father John paused as his blues eyes turned glossy. “Actually, I never had a mother.”

“What do you mean? Everyone has a mother.”

“Not me,” Father John said as he shook his head regrettably.

“What happened to her?”

“She died.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kate said tenderly. “How did she die?”

Father John sat back in his chair and swallowed hard. “She died due to complications while giving birth to me.”

Mike’s jaw dropped and his arms fell to his side as he stared at the monitor. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. Maybe Father John formed a multiple personality to deal with the anguish of losing his mom and that personality was now killing young blonde bartenders? That would explain why the Sterling Killer was disemboweling the victims. His mother was probably even blonde.

“I’m so sorry,” Kate said softly. “I didn’t know.”

“My father used to tell me that her dying while giving birth to me was part of The Lord’s grand plan.”

“It must have been very hard on you.”

“I was lonely when I was a child. I remember the first time I became aware that I did not have a mother and that seemingly everyone else did,” Father John said in a reflective tone. “I was playing at the park and banged heads with another little boy. He ran crying to his mother and I watched as she embraced and comforted him. I looked around at all of the mothers playing with their kids wondering why I didn’t have a mother like everyone else. I felt lost and alone.”

“That is a very sad story,” Kate sympathized with tears in her eyes. “I lost my mother to cancer 5 years ago and it was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through. I know what you mean by feeling lost and alone. I still miss my mother and can’t even imagine what it was like for you as a little boy. It must have been very hard on your dad to raise you five boys on his own.”

Father John took a deep breath. “We got a lot of help from the community and our church. In a way, the church and religion were like a surrogate mother to me. They provided me with the comfort and security I was missing.”

“Is that what made you want to become a monk?”

“When I was in high school, my father sent me to a private Catholic school and I spent all of my time immersed in the study of the history and the origin of religion and I became particularly fascinated with Buddhism,” he explained passionately. “When I wasn’t studying I spent my free time doing volunteer work with the church, working with impoverished youth and going on missions to third world countries to help build churches and schools.”

“That is very cool. I have always admired people that have a passion for their convictions. What did you do after high school?”

“I received a full academic scholarship for religious studies from Baylor University to major in Buddhism and I finished my undergraduate degree in 3 years,” he told her proudly. “I couldn’t wait to go to all of the places I was learning about where people had been studying religion for centuries. After I graduated I traveled to Asia and the Middle East and lived in different monasteries in India, Nepal, Tibet, Ladakh, Kashmir, Pakistan, Afghanistan and Iran. I was learning the teachings and traditions that have been handed down for centuries, from the many Monks, Hermits and Aesthetics I met along the way. It was exhilarating and I had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but the more I learned, the more I realized no one was able to tell me the one thing I wanted to know most. For all of the thousands of years of knowledge that was passed down and all of the years spent praying and living a holy life, no one knew what God was thinking or what his plan was. No one knew what it was like to be God and to see the world through his eyes. I wanted to know the end from the beginning.”

“So what did you do then?” Kate asked captivated.

“I went on a sabbatical to Rome to visit Vatican City and see the Sistine Chapel,” Father John recalled fondly with an unblinking glare. “I was hoping that maybe I would be inspired, but as I walked around looking at the frescos, I felt empty and lost…and then I saw something that truly was inspiring.”

“What was it?” Kate asked intrigued. “She was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I knew she was what led me to Rome.”

“That is so romantic,” Kate said adoringly.

“I wanted to be with her and learn about the essence of her inner beauty. I wanted to experience and share love with her. She was my best chance to be close to God because she surely was as close to perfection as God could create. Nothing I ever learned in a book or from a teacher or a wise man taught me what she taught me through love,” he recalled with glowing admiration. “She taught me what love is and that is when I realized to see the world through God’s eyes one only has to discover love.”

“What do you mean?”

“To love someone unconditionally and to share that love in the creation of children, that is what it is like to be God. By making love and creating
children we ourselves are acting as Gods. To see your children is to see the world through the eyes of the Lord.”

“Do you have any children?” Kate hesitated.

“At the time we were living in Arianna’s apartment above her art gallery. Our lives revolved around the art gallery and there were a lot of late nights with the art exhibits and the after hour parties. I wanted to get married and start a family, but Arianna didn’t think our life styles were conducive to that.”

“What did you do?”

“Time went by fast and I began to get restless living a life of indulgence. I realized that all of the time I was living with Arianna was just a diversion.”

“Is that when you went back to the abbey?”

“Yes,” Father John confirmed nodding his head resolutely. “I had a dream. It was more like a revelation and I realized I had to continue my search for enlightenment.”

“She must have been devastated.”

“She pleaded with me to stay and told me that she was ready to start a family and then, when she could see in my eyes that there was no changing my mind, she confessed to me that she always knew that one day I would leave her,” Father John said with strained eyes. “She said she knew that my heart belonged to God and that is why she never agreed to have a family with me. We stayed up together for as long as we could on that last night and when she fell asleep, I slipped out under the veil of darkness.”

Kate let out a deep breath as she sat back in her chair like a distraught mother. “Where did you go?”

“My travels led me back to the states and La Grande Abbey.”

“Have you tried to contact Arianna since you’ve been back?”

“I intended to, but then I started having the dreams about the murders and when I found out the murders were actually happening, I contacted Detective McCormick to offer my assistance.”

“You should call her,” Kate admonished him encouragingly. “She is probably worried about you.”

“I will as soon as we figure out who the killer is.”

“It’s none of my business, but you should call her now. I’m sure she would want to hear that you are alright,” Kate cautioned him as she leaned
forward and picked up her pen and adjusted her lined pad of paper. “Do you mind if we switch topics so I can ask you some questions that might make you a little uncomfortable?”

“Please do,” Father John replied gladly as he sat forward with his hands folded on the table.

“I want you to think back on your childhood. Do you remember ever having been abused either physically or mentally?”

“No,” Father John replied without hesitation.

“Were you ever sexually abused or molested?”

Father John shifted uncomfortably in his seat and frowned. “I am aware of the stereotype of priests and the church, but I can tell you categorically that I was never sexually molested.”

Kate jotted a few notes on her pad of paper. “Is there any history of mental illness in your family?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

“Did you ever have an injury to your head?”

“I don’t think I ever even had a concussion.”

“I was wondering if you would be willing to complete a questionnaire about your mental state?” Kate asked as she removed a file from her briefcase.

“Does this have anything to do with the detective’s pseudo psychological theory about multiple personalities?” Father John asked snidely.

Kate smirked as she pulled out a single sheet of paper from a manila folder. “Before we get started, I need you to read and sign this waiver.”

Father John signed the consent form and slid it across the table.

Kate handed him the Dissociative Experience Scale questionnaire and explained that there are 28 questions that he was to read and respond to. After he responded to all of the questions his score would be totaled and the higher the score, the more probability that he might have Dissociative Identity Disorder, although she reminded him that it was only meant as a screening tool and that a high score did not automatically mean that he did have multiple personalities.

Kate handed the father a pen and told him she would be back in about 15 minutes. Father John gave her an appeasing smile and thanked her as she sauntered out the door.

chapter
48

M
IKE OPENED THE
door of the viewing room and stepped out into the brightly lit hallway. Kate was vigorously typing a note into her smart phone, her long streaked hair hanging precariously to the side. A vision of her kneeling on her hands and knees above Mike as he lay on his back flashed in his mind. Kate glanced over and smiled at him.

“I don’t want to put the cart before the horse, but this sounds like a textbook case of multiple personality disorder,” Mike said quietly with wide eye enthusiasm. “His mom dies giving birth to him so he creates an alter personality to deal with the pain and guilt.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Kate cautioned him. “Just because that provides a convenient explanation doesn’t mean you can make the leap to the conclusion that he is the Sterling Killer,” she admonished him sternly. “Besides, he has no history of abuse or mental illness.”