Bonnie - Iris Johansen [61]
“Thomas Jacobs.” Her gaze was studying his face, but she could see no change of expression. “You don’t recognize the name?”
His smile deepened. “I understand you deal with faces all the time in your profession. Can’t you read me?”
“Maybe.” She was silent a moment. “I don’t believe he told you anything about Jacobs. But that’s a guess. I don’t know you, and you’re obviously smart and have a good deal of self-control.”
“And you’re desperate to learn something you can sink your teeth into. I’m a great disappointment to you.”
“You’re damn right.”
“And you’re in pain. Such pain.” He nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll tell you what I can, Ms. Duncan. You won’t be satisfied, but it may help you get through this.” He gazed at the water now flowing from the fountain. “First, you have to know that I have no real idea where you can find Ted Danner. For the first few years after he found me and started coming to confession, he worked here at the church. But then he slipped away and only came back every several months. I tried to get him to return, but he said that he was too comfortable here and that he wasn’t meant to stay with me.”
“That sounds amazingly self-sacrificial. I’m finding that fairly unbelievable in the context of what I know about Danner now.”
“Why? Every man has to fight the sin within him. Danner’s battle was more extreme than most.” His lips tightened. “And as long as he stayed on his medicine, he was able to manage it. But he stopped taking it when he said it weakened him, and he was afraid he couldn’t fight the demons.”
“What demons?”
“He would have to identify them for you. He wanted help with them, but he would only talk about them vaguely. I couldn’t pin him down.”
“And you have no idea where he went when he left you or what he was doing?”
“I know he was working as a volunteer for the Salvation Army for a while in Birmingham. But then he left them, too, and started to go from job to job.”
“He wasn’t a young man, and he’d been injured. How could he get work?”
“The spinal operation was a complete success, and he worked out for hours every day. He said he had to keep strong. He was almost fanatical about it. He had a tent, and there were times he lived off the land for months at a time.”
He was telling her more than she had hoped. Not enough, but maybe she could push him. “Danner didn’t tell you he had killed?”
He didn’t answer for a moment. “Of course he did, and it tormented him. But it was always about his time in the service.” He hesitated. “I cannot tell you any personal details, but perhaps it would be better if I give you an idea how my sessions with Danner proceeded. That would not be a violation. After a dozen or so appointments, he began to start loosening up. He told me about his nephew. He was completely devastated when he heard Gallo had been killed in Korea.”
“But he didn’t tell you about my daughter, Bonnie?”
He shook his head. “You have to understand. Danner is a very secretive man, and he’s always surprisingly insecure in his relationships. I had to pull stories and feelings out of him.” His lips twisted. “After we crossed the bridge in the doctor-patient relationship, I always had the feeling he didn’t want to disappoint me. It’s not unusual to have a patient like Danner develop a certain dependence on my good opinion. But that was a real hindrance in getting anything of any significance done. He didn’t want to tell me anything that he thought would turn me against him. I’ve never been able to overcome that reluctance.”
“And he never told you anything about Bonnie?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Wouldn’t you? But you said ‘the little girl.’ What little girl? Danner must have told you something about Bonnie.”
He shook his head. “Nothing clear or concise. He never referred to her by name.” He paused. “Though he did mention a little girl.”
She stiffened. “Did he tell you what he did to her?”
“You don’t understand. He never spoke of this little girl as a victim. He refers to her as if she’s alive. It may be another child.”
“Then you have to tell me where I can find her. He’s a murderer.