Morelli pulled up at Lorraine's apartment building. We buzzed the super, and he let us in after Morelli introduced himself and showed his credentials. We walked over to the elevator and took it up to the tenth floor, and we knocked on Lorraine's door. We could hear her approach the door and look out the peephole, and Morelli held his badge and identification up so that she could see it. "Hi, Lorraine", he said, "we were hoping to talk to you."
Lorraine opened the door. "I'm sorry", she said, "I'm still in my pajamas. I wasn't expecting anyone today."
"That's okay", I said. "Pajama days are the best thing in the world."
She smiled tentatively. "I've just made coffee, if you want some."
"I wanted to ask you some questions", said Morelli.
She tensed up, so I said, "coffee would be nice." I felt vindicated when she started to relax again.
We followed her through to her kitchen and, when she had poured our coffee and we had added cream for me and sugar for Morelli, we carried our mugs to the living room. "How may I help you?" asked Lorraine. She still looked nervous though, and I thought we were going to have to do something to make her a little more relaxed. We wouldn't get much information from her if she remained so uptight.
"I was hoping to talk to you about syphilis", said Morelli.
I looked at the expression on her face. My job at dispelling her nerves would be harder than I thought if Morelli continued to shoot questions at her like that. I glared at Morelli as she froze and tensed. She looked down at the ground in shame.
I put my cup down and bent over so that my elbows were resting on my knees and so that my face was in her downturned line of vision. "Lorraine", I said gently, "we know that you have been diagnosed with the tertiary stages of syphilis. We aren't judging you. We aren't upset with you. Having syphilis isn't a crime, nor is it anything to be ashamed about. However, we are interested in knowing who the person was who gave it to you. The identification of that person is important to the investigation of the serial killer that has already killed seven times."
"Eight times", said Morelli. "He has killed every day since you were diagnosed with syphilis."
"I didn't do it", said Lorraine.
"We aren't saying you did", I said. "The men were moved and were heavy, and you physically wouldn't have been able to kill the people. You aren't on the suspect list. But we need to know who gave you syphilis, as we think that information would be very interesting."
She burst into tears. "Harley."
"So, if I get this right, Harley and you had sex as a teenager and you drifted apart. He was the only person you'd had sex with. Years later you reconnected and got together. Things went well until you got sick and were diagnosed with syphilis. You broke up with Harley the same day and quit your job."
"Harley raped me in high school, but the church believes that any sex outside a marriage is a sin. I've wanted to get married, but I was scared to marry anyone because they would find out that I wasn't a virgin. It would mean that I'd have to give up my position as a youth pastor, and I loved doing that. It made me feel good about myself, and feel blessed each and every day when I went to work."
"So when you reconnected?"
"When Harley was interested in me I thought that maybe I could have my family and my job, and no one would be the wiser. After all, Harley was already aware that I wasn't a virgin. He had been, after all, the person who had taken my virginity."
"You got engaged five weeks ago."
"I knew he was the only chance I had at having a marriage and children. So I said yes when he proposed. But then, last week, I found out that I had syphilis and I knew that, when the congregation all found out, they would know that I had sinned."
"Getting raped was not your fault", I said. I kept eye contact with her, and eased over to her so that I could take her hand. "You haven't sinned. It was beyond your control."
"Harley told me that I was asking for it."
"Were you?"
"I don't think so", she said. She sniffled and shuddered in a breath.
"I don't think so either", I said. "There is nothing you could do that would make you ask to be raped. No one asks to be raped. It's just the result of a sick person who believes they have the right to force their desires on another person." I waited a few minutes before saying, "so you quit your job before the congregation found out that you'd been raped."
"Yes."
"And you broke up with Harley since the whole point in marrying him – so that the congregation didn't find out that you'd been raped as a teenager – was moot. The syphilis made that impossible to continue to hide."
"Yes."
"Did you confront Harley with knowledge of your syphilis?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"He said that he'd had sex with that teacher that died."
"He said that he'd had a homosexual relationship with that teacher?"
"He said that he was bisexual."
"Okay. That teacher had syphilis as well."
"Harley was the only person who could have given it to me. He's the only person I have ever had sex with." She sounded a little frantic about it all.
"I believe you." Her posture relaxed slightly. "What else did Harley say when you told him that you had syphilis?"
"He said that he was bisexual, and I told him that homosexuality was a sin."
"What did he say?"
There was a silence for a moment, and she swallowed hard.
"Lorraine, the person who is killing people is killing a person a day. Do you want more deaths? Do you really want that on your head? These were real, living people. One of the people who died had a disabled mother that he was caring for. Another person volunteered his time with disabled youths and did, for free, the taxes of the poor each March and April. These were good people. They were sons, brothers, friends. Do you want their deaths on your head? Do you really want to be responsible for more?" I paused as she burst into tears. "What did Harley say when you told him that homosexuality was a sin?"
"He got angry and asked, if he killed them all, would he then be resolved in the eyes of the Lord."
"Did he say that he'd gotten syphilis as well?"
"He said he hadn't, but he said the other boys had syphilis."
"What other boys?
"The other boys that he'd had sex with as a teenager. He said that he and two other boys and the teacher didn't have syphilis, but that the other boys had."
"In actuality, all of the men who have been killed have had syphilis. Some had been treated for it in their teens and it had gone away. Other people weren't treated for it during the first three stages and didn't know they had it and are, like you, being treated for it now that it is in its tertiary stage."
"He said a group of guys would all go to Mr. Morrison's house each Saturday for extra help. When I first heard about the serial killings, I wondered if Harley was responsible. I also wondered if the people he was killing were the students he'd had sex with in high school."
I glanced at Morelli briefly, then looked back at Lorraine. "Why do you say that?" I said.
"They were all the same group of people that he went to Mr. Morrison's with on the weekends. Harley said that he went for extra help in school, but when I asked him last week whether that help was academic or sexual in nature, he said that the help was physical."
"What do you think was Harley's reason for killing people, if he did it?"
"He wanted to get back together with me. The last thing he said to me last week was that he would fix this, that he would get rid of the proof that he'd engaged in homosexual relations."
"Have you spoken with him since?" I said.
"Each night he calls me. I haven't been answering the phone, so he's been leaving messages for me. They say that he has gotten rid of another one, and begs me to come back to him. He says that he is doing what he can to repair the mistake."
"Do you have those messages saved on your phone?" Lorraine nodded. "May we hear them?"
She retrieved her phone and dialed her voicemail, and pressed speaker so that we could all hear. "Hi, baby", said Harley. "I've gotten rid of another one for you. I've almost finished getting rid of all proof that I had sex with other males. Once I get rid of all my partners for you, you and I can marry and move away from the church. No one ever needs to know that we had sex when we were kids. I told you that I'd fix this, and I am. I love you, baby. Don't give up on us." The message ended, but the voicemail transferred into an older message, then another older message, and then another older message again. They all said basically the same thing. There was one message after every killing and Lorraine had saved them all.
"Is it possible for us to take a copy of the messages?" I said. "We know how to do that electronically, but we need your permission."
Lorraine nodded. "Yes. I just want this to be over. It doesn't matter if I think that homosexuality is a sin. I think murder is an even bigger one."
"So is rape", I said.
"If I hadn't been at that party, I would never have been raped. I wasn't allowed to go, you know. I snuck out of the house when my parents were sleeping. It was one of those parties when everyone in the school was going, and I wanted to know what it was like. There were drugs and alcohol there, and Harley was under the influence of something when he raped me. He told me about five months ago that it wasn't his fault because I had been asking for it and he'd been under the influence and out of control."
"True, he may have been under the influence", I said, "but he is still at fault because he chose to take those drugs and to drink too much. He chose to be under the influence, and that makes him just as much at fault as someone who gets behind the wheel while under the influence and kills another person in a car crash."
"I can't believe that I was engaged to someone who believes that killing to cover up your sins is an acceptable way to behave."
I patted her hand. "I know that syphilis is hard, but judging Harley's character, I think it has saved you from a mistake of a marriage. Maybe it isn't all bad after all."