Through the Eyes of Madness—Part Twenty–one
By: David K. Montoya

Tidwell found Grayson and Father O'Neil seated at his desk. The younger detective popped to his feet as his partner approached. "What was all that about?"

"Remind me to tell you later," Tidwell shrugged off. "Hello Father."

"Detective," Father O'Neil responded and nodded.

"Okay," Tidwell said with a sigh and clasped his hands together, "what's going on?"

"The father wished to meet with his son, but would like us to be there when he does so," Grayson replied. It was evident that he studied his partner's lined face as he spoke.

"I just feel more safe with you two there," Father O'Neil explained to the detectives. "I fully understand he is behind bars, and this may be my only chance to speak with him before he is shipped off to prison."

"No, I completely understand, Father," Tidwell said.

Grayson tilted his head with a concerned look at how friendly his partner was acting. "You good, Dean?"

"Yeah, Partner, yeah…I'm good." Tidwell replied and turned in the direction of the holding cells that were placed in the back for suspects that could not be in public sight. "Right this way, Father."

The three men walked to the back where the hidden holding cells were. In a string of structures, it was the final chamber at the end made of Plexiglas that held the man now publicly known as the Copycat Killer.

In front of the transparent housing sat a single chair faced the prisoner inside.

"You ready," Grayson asked softly.

The elderly priest nodded.

"We are right here, if you need us," Tidwell said before Father O'Neil begin his walk to meet his illegitimate child.

"You sure you're okay," Grayson whispered.

Tidwell responded with a thumbs up.

Father O'Neil hobbled over to the chair and seated himself. Before him stood a silver hair man who was ghastly white in that moment, Grayson realized where he had seen the man before. It's the man from the stairwell! The one who I help with his beer and ball gag! Grayson thought. I led him straight to Betty.

Father O'Neil cleared his throat and said softly, "Hello Patrick."

"It's PJ," he said without looking at the priest.

"All right PJ," Father O'Neil said. "I am yo—"

"I know who you are, Priest," PJ interrupted. "What would you like to know about your bastard son?"

Father O'Neil lowered his had and sighed that was filled with anguish.

"I'm an open book," PJ said calmly. "Whatever you want to know, Father.

"Why," Father O'Neil forced from his mouth.

"Why? What?" PJ asked, still refusing to look at the old priest.

"Why… Why kill those poor souls?" Father O'Neil finally cried out.

"Oh. Oh that wasn't me, that was Jack," PJ answered. "I didn't touch those women."

Angered by that last statement, Grayson stepped out and yelled, "That's horse shit! I was there! It was you sawing on the woman's body, there was no other man in that room!"

Tidwell grabbed Grayson and shook his head, no.

"You're right," Grayson admitted. "I apologize Father."

"I understand your anger, my son," Father O'Neil softly said. "Who is Jack PJ?"

"He is my brother," PJ explained.

"You have a brother," Father O'Neil stammered.

"A twin?" Tidwell asked.

"Well, kinda."

"What do you mean, kinda," Grayson snapped, as their earlier encounter raced through his head.

"Jack and I share this body," PJ confessed. "He has the ability to take control, when I am too weak."

"Great the nutcase defense," Tidwell leaned in a whispered to Grayson.

"Yep, startin' early." Grayson said.

"When did Jack first appear," Father O'Neil asked, while the color drained from his face.

"I think eight or nine," he replied. "My mom would leave me with a friend that never charged to babysit me, while she looked for work. I would be there for days at a time."

"Well, it was noble of the friend to not charge a fee," Father O'Neil said. "As long as he made sure you had a full belly and a warm bed."

PJ psychotically laughed.

"Oh he did, made sure I had nice clothes to were to school even," PJ reflected. "And all he wanted in return, was to butt rape me and not tell anyone."

Father O'Neil's mouth dropped open. "oh, my, son…"

"Jack arrived that final summer there…Mom had been gone for the entire break. By that time, I was being raped once in the morning and once at night. I felt hopeless, I was in constant pain, I couldn't play with my friend—so, I stayed indoors and read murder mysteries. That night, he came home from work drunk like I had never seen him before and decided to have his way with me in the kitchen.

"I blacked out, but when I came too…I heard Jack telling me that he had taken care of things and I was safe. He was stabbed to death and Jack castrated him after he was dead. I found the balls stuffed in his mouth.

"I was taken by the police that night, as I wandered down the road covered in blood. I spent the rest of my childhood behind bars and was released when I was twenty–one…mom never came to visit."

PJ shrugged with a slight giggle.

"She wasn't even at the trial, and Jack said that once we were free she had to pay for her neglect," PJ Said and laughed. "That is exactly what he did the first night free, mom never moved from the town I grew up in. He found her at a local pub, and Jack played her like a deck of cards."

PJ laughed once again.

Then there was silence.

In a shaken voice, Father O'Neil asked the crazed man behind the glass wall, "What did you do to the woman, my son?"

Still without facing the priest, PJ said, "I did nothing. But Jack got her to go out back for a little fun, she didn't know him…never saw him before. She was all for it, that is until she went outback and he cut her throat out.

"That was also the same night that Jack revealed himself as the spirit of Jack the Ripper, reincarnated in my body. He said that the time would come when I would have to give up complete control and allow him to do his business, but we had to learn how to cut and spent the rest of our youth going from job to job as a meat cutter—Learning the craft."

Father O'Neil drew a cross in the air in front of him and said in a different tongue, "In nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti."

"What were you just doing," PJ asked softly.

"Praying for those lost souls that was ended by murder," Father O'Neil explained. It was obvious that the elder was not well as the color in his face was missing. "May I say a prayer for you and Patrick, my son?"

PJ straightened up and turned to face the priest, there was a real look of excitement to him as he said, "So you… You believe me?"

"I do," Father O'Neil confessed. He gazed upon his son's face for the first time, and the old man's already wrinkled brow folded again as he leaned forward studying PJ's features. "That's odd."

PJ's face contorted in confusion and asked, "What is?"

"I visited your true mother not too long ago, and April said you had eyes like your grandfather's eyes," Father O'Neil explained. "Your grandfather had the most beautiful gray eyes anyone had ever seen."

"My true mother?" PJ asked.

"Yes. Your real mother's name is April," the Priest clarified. "I met with her not to long ago."

PJ knelled down to be eye level with his father, and in a frustrated tone declared, "I don't know if it's because you are old, but Jack killed my mother, Tammy Welch."

"Tammy?" Father O'Neil stuttered.

"She told me the story a million times, when I was a child…You refused to leave the church," PJ recalled. "When she found out that you knocked her up, she decided to leave so you could keep you position in the church."

"Oh Lord,"the Priest said softly, "what have I done?"

To be continued…


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