Mind of a Fanatic
Chapter 20
"Hey, Delko, have you seen Calleigh? I have ballistics evidence for her and I can't find her anywhere." Jake asked, entering Fingerprints. "Is she in the field?"
Eric looked up from his scope, his anger at Berkley evident. He keeps on her about wanting to start dating again, but he's got no idea that she was nearly killed? What the hell? "Where the hell have you been, Berkley; living under a rock?"
"Look Delko, I've been out of state visiting family for the holidays and I just got back." Jake defended. Who the hell does this guy think he is; her brother? "Is Calleigh on vacation or something?"
"No, she's not on vacation, try Miami General Hospital."Eric said, some of his anger melting. At least the guy had a decent reason for not knowing. "She was nearly killed in the line of duty, she's in room 2144."
What Eric had just told him hit Jake like a fist to the stomach. Her condition had to be damn near death for Calleigh to allow herself to remain in the hospital longer than over night.
"When did it happen? How bad is she?"
"About two weeks ago. She's racked up pretty bad. The bastard nearly beat her to death. He had her for three days and tortured her; she was almost torn limb from limb and she lost a lot of blood. Are you planning on seeing her?" Eric asked, noting the look of concern on Jake's face.
"Yeah, yeah I will. I just want to be prepared, that's all."
Eric shook his head.
"Nothing can prepare you, man. Just try not to let it show; she's got enough on her plate right now, dealing with some heavy physical rehab. Take it easy on her, ok? She's not the same Calleigh we're used to seeing." Eric smiled faintly "She'll still rip you a new one if you piss her off though; consider yourself warned."
Jake blinked in surprise. Heavy physical rehab? He'd never known Calleigh to be anything but a little powerhouse; her diminutive size belying her physical strength. He'd lied when he said that he let her take him down in that warehouse. She took him down all on her own.
"Thanks, man."
"Prosecution," Judge Garcia said calmly, his demeanor masking his extreme distaste for what was about to transpire. "Call your next witness,"
"The State wishes to call Father Peter Dupree, S.J. to the stand." Sam said. He fought to keep the smile out of his voice.
Powell had protested vehemently, but was overruled by the judge; saying that the character of the victim had been so firmly established that the jury needed to meet and understand the good Father's character and not let the clerical collar do all the talking.
Dupree rose and took the witness stand, taking the oath as he did.
"Father Dupree," Sam asked evenly, making a show of consulting the yellow pad in front of him. "How long have you been a Catholic priest?"
This is going to be fun. I just wish Calleigh were here enjoying it.
Dupree replied mildly. "I have served Holy Mother Church for thirty-seven years."
"In that time have you joined any internal organizations in the Catholic Church?"
"Yes, of course. I once belonged to Opus Dei."
Sam fought a grin. Like a lamb to the slaughter...how appropriate. "And, for those of us who have been living under a rock for the past four years and didn't read The Da Vinci Code, could you please explain what Opus Dei is and what it does?"
Dupree smiled. Ah, a chance to educate and perhaps find those I might convert.
"I would be happy to. Opus Dei is an organization that wishes to return the church to it's original purity; before all that ecumenical nonsense of the 50's and 60's."
"By 'nonsense' you mean the reforms of Vatican II Father?" Sam asked, sounding like a student in a first year college Comparative Religion course. Give the man enough rope and watch him tie his own noose.
"Yes, we wish to worship in the language of our Lord, Latin and return the Mass back to its former splendor. So many in this world today have lost their way; we are a way of helping them find their way back to the proper path."
Sam glanced back at Duke, who signaled to go ahead with the line of questioning they discussed using Calleigh's account of the ordeal.
"Father, you stated that the language that Jesus used was Latin." Sam adopted a slightly confused expression. "Surely a man of such learning as you knows that the accepted scholarly opinion is that the people in the region of Galilee spoke Aramaic, an ancient form of Hebrew; that Latin was imposed by the Romans upon their subjugated territories – often by force?"
"That is blasphemous to say so!" Dupree said sharply.
"Well, I'm no Biblical scholar; I only had one semester of Western Civ in college, so I may be wrong." Sam demurred, and then changed the subject. "You said that you once belonged to Opus Dei. This implies to me that you no longer are a part of that organization. Is this true?"
Dupree looked slightly uncomfortable. "That is true."
Sam took his time as he approached the stand to help draw the juries' eyes to the man sitting there.
"Can you please tell the court why you are no longer a member of Opus Dei?"
Dupree hesitated briefly. "I was removed from the order because our views on conversion did not agree. I was told my methods were too rough for them. When you are saving souls, I believe that there is no concept of too rough. It is rougher to allow them to wander in the eternal darkness if they have not been saved."
"Can it be fair to say that you had in your possession special instruments or devices that you used to help convert particularly difficult targets?" Sam asked.
"Objection!"
Judge Garcia sighed. "On what grounds Counselor?
"Leading the witness," Powell said desperately; he had argued vehemently against putting Dupree on the stand. He had known that it would go exactly the way it was going and he was almost powerless to stop it.
"Sustained," Garcia leaned forward. "Mr. Bartlett, please rephrase or change your line of questioning; do not force me to change it for you."
"Yes, your Honor," Sam said meekly. "Father Dupree, in an effort to understand what you consider a lost soul, could you please tell the court your definition of one?"
Father Dupree smiled. "A lost soul to me has always been one that does not know his or her way. One that has been pulled by the secular world into living a life that is counter to the one that God wants for them; a life that goes against traditional Biblical values. Sadly, in this Century and in last half of the former one, there are an increasing number of women being added to the list. They choose careers and live singly instead of remaining at home until they are married and staying at home, caring for the house and children."
"So, you say that these are the ones that need the most saving; these women?" Sam asked carefully.
"Absolutely!"
Sam nodded thoughtfully and paced in a small circle for a moment. " Father, do you dislike, even hate these women?"
"Oh, no, you mistake me." Dupree shook his head. "I cannot hate lost lambs like them. I love them. They deserve to be brought home to God. They deserve God's Love and Light."
Sam asked. "How did you bring CSI Duquesne to God Father?"
"I didn't; I failed in bringing her to God. She was taken away from me too soon." Dupree said sadly. "I was unable to make even the slightest headway with her. She fought my teaching like one possessed; a most headstrong young woman."
Sam stood directly in front of Dupree and pinned him with a level stare. Enough screwing around.
"Father Dupree, did you abduct CSI Duquesne?"
"Objection! Your Honor, the Prosecution is trying an end run around the Fifth Amendment." Powell glared at Sam. "The last time I checked the Constitution still protected an individual's right against self-incrimination." .
"Sustained; move on Mr. Bartlett."
"My apologies, Your Honor; Father, were you giving CSI Duquesne intense private tutoring?" Sam asked.
"Yes, I was. I took her to my Chapel and attempted to teach her gently," Dupree said openly. "But when she resisted so strongly, I was forced to use stronger means at my disposal."
"'Stronger means' as in what was depicted in the evidence photos?" Sam asked, glancing at the jury. Several of them had leaned slightly forward in anticipation of his answer.
"Those teaching tools are mine, yes." Dupree admitted. "I have employed them before and I did use them to help my Penitent learn her Catechism."
"By 'Penitent', you mean CSI Calleigh Duquesne?" Sam asked in a sharp voice.
"Yes, she was my latest Penitent. She had such promise and could have been such an instrument of God had I had more time to help her. Now, we'll never know." Dupree shook his head sadly and sighed heavily. "She'll go back to her heathenish life and never know the full burning force of God's Love. Such is a loss to Holy Mother Church."
"By your own confession, Father, you said that you used the strappado, the rack and an assortment of flails, whips and other flogging devices to try and each CSI Duquesne her Catechism." Sam could taste victory in the air. He looked at the jury, some of which now wore horrified expressions on their faces, obviously remembering very sharply the evidence photos. "So much so that when Lt. Caine and CSI Delko arrived at your Chapel she was tied to a post and you were beating her with a whip. Is that so?"
"She was so resisting, so stubborn. I had to wear her down. I was just making headway and then she was taken from me." Dupree admitted, heaving another heavy sigh. "Mortification of the flesh leads to a prayerful soul. The Way says: Blessed be pain...sanctified be pain...Glorified be pain. Through pain she needed to learn."
Who is this guy; an evil Yoda? A wave of revulsion swept over Sam and he fought to repress it. He glanced at Duke, whose horrified face was now buried in his hands as the priest's own admission just got him convicted.
"Thank you, Father. I have no further questions."
Calleigh closed her eyes against the pain. She was exhausted and every damaged joint throbbed with every beat of her heart. She had had what Jodi called "a bad night", tossing and turning with not only unrelenting physical discomfort, but also with indistinct nightmares that refused to go away no matter what she did to banish them. Her extreme distaste for relying on chemical means led her to attempt to ride it all out instead of requesting pain medication or something as innocuous as a sleeping pill. Consequently, she began her day at a deficit and that only made matters worse.
She had been honest with Jodi, who had mildly scolded her for not asking for the help she needed, but promised to make the physical therapy session easy and gentle. When it was obvious that Calleigh could take it no longer, Jodi called it a day, taking more than the usual time giving her patient ultrasound treatment to ease her pain. She helped her into the wheelchair and was now wheeling her back up to her room.
"When you get settled, do you want me to get Colleen to get you some relief?" Jodi asked carefully, fully expecting Calleigh to turn her down.
Calleigh nodded, eyes still closed. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep pain free. "It's a bit much to tolerate and I'm tired of trying. I know I'm not due until late this morning, but-"
"Don't worry, you're not addicted. Monica knows about your family history and she has you on non-addictive stuff," Jodi said as the elevator doors opened and they bumped over the threshold. "You've had a bad night and it's completely normal to have those considering the absolute hell you've been through. Right now a stubbed toe would feel like a broken leg. You just have worn out your tolerance."
"I know. Why do you think I'm not panicking?" Calleigh asked, sighing heavily.
"Looks like you have a visitor. I don't know this one." Jodi said. "He's new alright and from his expression, I don't think he expected to see what he's seeing."
Calleigh opened her tired eyes to see Jake standing outside her doorway with a look of shock on his face. Aw hell, I really don't need him to see me this...this...vulnerable. What am I thinking? We've seen each other more vulnerable than this. I've slept with him. There's nothing more vulnerable than that. He looks appalled. I don't need his pity.
Jake watched as the doctor or nurse or whatever wheeled Calleigh closer. My God, she looks like hell. She's so strong, so sure, what happened to her? What did this guy really do to her? Delko said he nearly beat her to death, but she looks so small, so pained. How do I treat her? What do I say? I can't tease her or zing her with a playful put-down like I always do. What do I say? He cleared his throat. "Hey, Cal. Uhm, Happy New Year." IDIOT! There's nothing happy about what's happened to her.
Calleigh looked up at him, her smile strained, fake. She needed to look stronger than she felt at the moment. "Hey Jake, same to you. You're back from Michigan, I see. How's your folks?"
"Th-they're fine. They asked about you," he stuttered, following Calleigh inside the hospital room.
Jodi stopped the wheelchair at Calleigh's bedside and set the brakes. "Ok, on three. Let's just try it and see what happens."
"Ok," Calleigh replied, waiting for the count. On three she reached out and grabbed Jodi's proffered hand and rose out of the chair. No sooner was she upright than her legs collapsed beneath her and she slumped against the physical therapist. "I'm sorry; I can't," she choked, embarrassed.
"It's ok, sweetie; I've got you. Lean on me."Jodi supported Calleigh's full weight easily. She gently eased her into the bed, smoothing the covers over her. "I'll go get Colleen for you. Remember, this is normal. You'll be just fine tomorrow."
Calleigh nodded, leaning her head back on the pillow. It felt blissfully soft. "I know and it's ok."
"So, uhm, Cal...how are you?" IDIOT! You can see how she is. Geez she looks bad; so tired.
She winced and rolled onto her side, drawing her knees up. "I've been better. I suppose you've heard what happened by now."
"Yeah, Dupree of all criminals. I heard he beat you up pretty bad. How'd he ever get paroled?" Jake asked, coming closer to the bedside. He was more comfortable talking shop with her at the moment.
"As far as Horatio had been able to find out it had something to do with records lost during Katrina. And them not knowing that I was on the list of investigators to be consulted when his parole hearing came up. Seeing that they didn't call me last, oh, June, they also didn't know to let me know anything about him getting out," Calleigh explained.
"That's why we keep shit like that on computer!" Jake exclaimed, angry at the stupidity and Luddite-like behavior of NOPD.
"Jake, please, I'm angry enough about it already," Calleigh said, letting out a low groan as she adjusted her position., also feeling more comfortable, more secure talking shop.
Alarmed, Jake came closer, unknowingly placing his hand on her throbbing hip, causing it to flare. "Is there anything-"
Calleigh hissed in pain. "Yes, there is. Please don't touch me," she cried. He jerked his hand away as if it had been burned. "I'm sorry, but, it's just...you don't know what he did and where it hurts so please don't touch me, ok?"
"Ok Calleigh, relief is here!" Colleen sang as she entered her favorite patient's room. She had a small vial of fluid and a sterile syringe. She quickly filled the syringe and injected it's contents into Calleigh's hip. "There, it shouldn't be long now. This is going to make you very sleepy, but Jodi said that you needed it. I can see she's right."
"Thanks, Colleen," Calleigh said gratefully.
"No problem; it's why they pay me the big bucks," Colleen joked back. "Listen, thanks for arranging that little party last night. It wasn't much, but we all really appreciated it. It's hard having to work on a holiday, which reminds me; I'm leaving in an hour. You'll have Neela today. She's sweet, but sometimes hard to understand. She's an excellent nurse, though. Go easy on her, tiger."
Calleigh smiled. "Thanks for the heads-up. I know what it's like to work on holidays. Crime doesn't stop because it's Christmas, or New Years or Thanksgiving. That's why I did it."
"Alright, I'm out of here. Sleep well." Colleen said, absolutely taking no notice of Jake, who had retreated away from the bed.
Jake waited until she left. "So, throwing parties and then complaining you're too tired? C'mon, Cal, I thought you were supposed to be resting." he teased.
Calleigh smiled slightly. "Ha-ha, very funny. Look Jake, I'm really not up for conversation right now. Can you come back later?"
Jake reached out and stroked her cheek in the old familiar way he had when they'd been dating. No matter what had happened between them, he'd always care about her. "Sure. Do you want me to stay until you go to sleep?"
She shook her head, a heaviness in her eyelids already making them close. "No; it's ok. I'll be fine," she said, her words slurring slightly.
"Alright then, sleep well," Jake said quietly, backing out of the room, very rattled. Delko was right. I couldn't be prepared. Not when the vic was Calleigh. Resisting the urge to head to the correctional facility to interrogate Dupree, he walked calmly to his car and returned to MDPD. If he couldn't do anything about Dupree, he'd concentrate on making the streets of Miami safer on the first day of the new year.