“I ordain our ministers myself… after a suitable course of study and work within the church, of course. I, myself, was ordained the same way by my predecessor.”
Their conversation was interrupted as Bobby Joe Waldo entered the office. Harry noticed the smirk he had been treated to earlier was now missing and he wondered if Bobby Joe knew better than to cop that kind of attitude in front of his father.
“The detective here just hit me with a question I couldn’t rightly answer,” Waldo began. “He wants to know if anyone on our staff ever had any contact with that woman who molested young Billy Hall.”
Bobby Joe thought for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “Why would they?” There was a slight movement of his eyes to the left when he answered, which Harry picked up on. It was a classic tell. It didn’t mean the young minister was lying, but it did indicate that he was not answering the question in a completely truthful manner.
Apparently his father picked up on it as well. He leaned forward in his chair again. “Just tell us if you know of anyone who had contact with that woman.”
Bobby Joe shifted the position of his feet-another tell — and shook his head. “I don’t know anyone who had any contact with her,” he said.
“How many ministers and staff do you have working here?” Harry asked before either man could say any more.
“That depends what you mean by staff,” the minister said. “My first associate minister, a man named Justin Clearby, and Bobby Joe here are the only ordained ministers. We have several lay ministers, who have regular jobs outside the church. Our music director, for example, is considered a lay minister even though he’s not ordained. And we have several folks who work with the children’s programs who we refer to as assistant lay ministers. As far as full-time paid staff goes, we have our regular ministers, my secretary and one assistant-the other is a part-time volunteer-the director of our school and three teachers, and a custodian. The folks who run the lighting and sound for our services are paid part-time employees.”
“I’d like to speak with any staff people who are here now,” Harry said. “And I’d like a list of both paid and unpaid staff with their home addresses and phone numbers.”
“Is all that really necessary?” Bobby Joe chimed in. “I already told you that nobody from here had any contact with that woman.”
Harry stared at the young man, but before he could say anything else, Reverend Waldo gave his son a clear and direct order: “You do what the man asked, Bobby Joe. It’s our job to help if we can. You have Emily put together a list and you see to it that Detective Doyle gets it.”
Bobby Joe seemed to shrink in size as he nodded his head. “I’ll do it right now,” he said, and headed back to the outer office.
Waldo rose from behind his desk, a smile fixed on his face again. “Come with me and I’ll introduce you to the people who are here,” he said.
They passed through the outer office and out onto the covered walkway that led back to the church and the other buildings. They had only gone a half dozen steps when the minister stopped. “Just a minute, I forgot to tell my secretary something that’s a bit pressing. I’ll be right back.”
Before Harry could say anything he had spun around and reentered the office.
Back inside, Waldo led Bobby Joe away from the secretary’s desk, then leaned in close so he could speak without being overheard.
“Now you listen to me, son. You sure this detective isn’t gonna find anything out that’s gonna come back and embarrass this church?”
“I’m sure, Daddy.”
“I’m countin’ on you to make sure it stays that way, hear? And you also better check that list Emily’s putting together and keep anybody off it who might be a problem.”
“I’ll see to it, Daddy.”
“Make sure that you do. You also make sure everybody else knows that’s how I want it to be.”
“I will.”
Waldo caught his son’s eyes moving toward the exterior door of the office, and he turned and saw Harry standing there.
“Hot out there,” Harry said. “Thought I’d come back to the airconditioning while I waited.”
The ready-made smile returned to Waldo’s face. “Good thinking,” he said. “But I’m afraid we’re going to have to head right back out into it.”
CHAPTER NINE
Lola Morofsky sat in one of her oversized office chairs, her feet dangling well above the floor, her five-foot, hundred-pound body making her look like a small child who had stumbled into a giant’s living room. Lola adjusted her half-glasses on her long nose as she read the rap sheet Harry had just given her.
“Nasty fellow,” she said. She turned a page and raised disapproving eyes to Harry. “You realize, of course, that you have juvenile records here, as well as adult records-juvenile records that you are not supposed to have.”
Harry feigned surprise, without any attempt to be convincing. “Must have been a computer glitch.”
Lola looked at him over the half-glasses, her soft brown eyes incapable of anything more than a mild reproach. “Yes, I’m certain it was,” she said, her Brooklyn accent weighty with sarcasm. “What does your person of interest do for a living?”
“He’s come home to Jesus,” Harry said.
“What does that mean?”
“He’s a minister… ordained by his minister father. He works in Daddy’s evangelical church.”
“Quite a change for him,” Lola said as she went back to the rap sheet. “Let’s see, we had three instances of possession, along with several burglaries as a juvenile, which are charges that often go together. It seems that all were treated with in-house arrest and probation, except for one stint in a boot camp. Then, as an adult-he didn’t seem to learn anything in boot camp, which is often the case-we have several bad check charges, all dismissed after restitution was made.”
“Probably by Daddy,” Harry interjected.
Lola nodded. “Probably. It’s not uncommon for parents to open their wallets when young adults get into trouble. But it’s usually just a Band-Aid, not a solution, to the underlying problem.” She read on, nodding her head as she did so. “Next we have a possession charge which was dropped when he agreed to cooperate with a police investigation of his supplier. Then we have a conviction for fraud, where one Robert Joseph Waldo fleeced a retired couple out of ten thousand dollars in a phony home improvement scheme. This one Daddy couldn’t buy him out of and he was sentenced to a year. Since then nothing.”
“His jail record shows he had some trouble inside,” Harry said. “I don’t have anything in writing on this-it’s all verbal from people in corrections. But according to them Bobby Joe accused two inmates of sexual assault. Claimed they attacked him in a laundry room where they were all working. But the accusations never went anywhere. Three other inmates supposedly witnessed the attack, but claimed they didn’t see anything, so it became Bobby Joe’s word against the two men. Corrections, of course, took the easy way out. The two assailants got hit with some minor administrative punishments, loss of privileges, that sort of thing, and Bobby Joe got placed in an isolation unit. Down the road it was probably a factor in his early release-he got out after doing six months.” Harry offered up a shrug. “The sheriff doesn’t like news stories about inmates getting buggered in his jail, and the word going around is that he pushed to get Bobby Joe out early after he agreed to keep his mouth shut. The sheriff knows Bobby Joe’s father, although I’m not certain how well, beyond the fact that there’s a picture of them shaking hands on a wall in the minister’s office.”
“And, of course, you’re thinking that Darlene Beckett escaped more serious charges because the victim, after an agreement was reached with his parents, refused to testify against her.” Lola extended one palm up. “It’s an interesting coincidence, Harry. But as a motive for murder it is very, very thin.”
Harry nodded. “As thin as it gets, but I have to start somewhere. What do you think of Bobby Joe as a
