Many believed the overall system, or lack of it, spawned lifelong criminals who became convinced, as minors, that crime was incredibly easy to get away with. Even the counselors of juveniles shared that belief and confirmed it in reports.
Counselors were assigned to juvenile offenders after two apprehensions. These were underpaid, overworked individuals with little or no special training, and of whom a college degree was not required. Each counselor, burdened with an impossibly large caseload, was expected to give advice to juveniles and parents advice that was largely ignored.
Elroy Doil apparently had the same counselor, one Herbert Elders, throughout his juvenile crime career. The file contained several single-page sheets headed TNFORMATION REPORT ONLY, all written by Elders, who seemed to have done his best in difficult circumstances. One report, written when Doil was "thirteen, but big for his age and very strong," warned of "a probability of long-term violence."
The same report noted "indifference" from Doil's mother when confronted with the problem.
Ainslie was especially interested in an episode in which Doil, then thirteen, was caught torturing a cat to death. He had cut off the cat's legs one by one, then its tail, using a knife that, according to the report, he habitually carried. He was caught watching the cat writhe in agony as it died. This produced a charge of "cruelty to an animal," resulting in a fine of a hundred Dollars. The record did not say who paid it.
Another "Information Report Only," also by Elders, referred to Elroy's involvement at age twelve in Operation Guidance, a city-sponsored program for underprivileged kids. Father Kevin O'Brien directed the program at Miami's Gesu Church; it included meals, sports, and Bible study every Sunday in the church's fenced-in grounds. Elders referred hopefully to Elroy's "awakening interest in religion and the Bible."
However, another report a year and a half later recorded dismally that religion had not curbed Doil's misdemeanors, nor had his religious-biblical fervor, which, according to Father O'Brien, was "erroneous and incoherent."
Ainslie scribbled down Father O'Brien's phone number and address.
Across the remaining years until Doil reached eighteen, the record showed an orgy of offenses, none of which had ever required Doil to be fingerprinted. A juvenile's fingerprints could only be taken after an arrest for a felony or with a parent's permission, which, according to the file, Beulah Doil consistently refused to give.
It was that absence of fingerprints that left Homicide hamstrung in the final report in the file, where Doil was a strong suspect in the murders of Clarence and Florentina Esperanza. But without prints or other supporting evidence, no charge was laid.
The Homicide detectives' frustration at that time was easy to envisage, Ainslie thought, as he closed the file and headed for a copy machine.
* * *
Using a phone at Metro-Dade headquarters, Ainslie called the number he had written down, and Father O'Brien answered personally. Yes, he told Ainslie, he remembered Elroy well, and would be willing to talk about him. In fact, if the sergeant wished to drive to Gesu Church now, the priest was in his office and available.
* * *
Father Kevin O'Brien, a bright-eyed Irishman, now middle-aged and balding, gestured to the wooden chair facing his desk.
Ainslie sat down, thanked the priest for seeing him, then briefly described his interest in Doil, adding, "I'm not here for evidence, Father. I simply wonder if you could tell me a bit about him."
O'Brien nodded thoughtfully. "I remember Elroy as if I'd seen him yesterday. I think, initially, he enrolled in our program because he needed the meals, but after a few weeks he seemed to become mesmerized by the Bible much more than any of the other kids."
"Was he intelligent?"
"Extremely. But in his own way. And a voracious reader, which surprised me, given his marginal education. Now that I think about it, I remember he had a fascination with crime and violence first in the newspapers, then later in the Bible." O'Brien smiled. "It was the Old Testament that absorbed him, with all its 'holy wars' and God's wrath, pursuit, revenge, and killing. Are you familiar with all that, Detective?"
Ainslie nodded. "Yes, I am." In fact, from memory, he thought, he could have put together the kind of passages that would have attracted Doil.
"I saw great possibilities in young Doil," O'Brien said, "and for a while I thought we had real communication, but in the end we didn't. We talked about the Bible, but he twisted words, including mine, to mean whatever he wanted. He lusted to be an avenger for God, though redressing, I suspect, what he saw as life's offenses against himself. I tried reasoning, pointing out God's love and forgiveness. He didn't listen; more and more he became incoherent. I wish I'd done better."
"I think you did all you could, Father," Ainslie said. "Do you think Doil has some mental disorder? Is insanity too strong a word?"
"Probably." The priest considered. "We all have aberrations; they come in differing packages, and experts decide where aberrations end and madness begins. Thinking back, one thing I'm sure of is that Elroy was a pathological liar. He lied when he didn't have to. He'd tell lies to me, for example, even when he knew I was aware of the truth. It's as if he had an aversion to the truth about anything, no matter how benign."
O'Brien concluded, "I'm not sure I can give you much more. He was simply a boy on the wrong track, and I gather, from the fact that you're here, he hasn't changed course."
"I'm not sure," Ainslie answered. "Father, I have one more question. Did you ever have reason to believe Doil carried a gun? Or any other weapon?"
"Yes," O'Brien said at once. "I remember that very well. Most of the boys in my program talked constantly about guns, though I forbade them to bring any here. But Doil disdained guns and said so. I don't know why, though I was told he did carry a knife something big, I believe, which he boasted about to his friends."
"Did you ever see the knife?"
"Of course not. I would have confiscated it if I had.''
Shaking hands with Father O'Brien as he left, Ainslie said, "Thank you for your help. Elroy Doil is an enigma, but you've helped put a few pieces in place."
* * *
Ainslie returned to Homicide headquarters in the early afternoon, having driven some thirty miles to various ports of call in his quest for information. He immediately summoned a meeting of selected members of the special task force for 4:00 P.M. that day. The list, which he handed to a secretary, comprised Sergeants Pablo Greene and Hank Brewmaster, as well as Detectives Bernard Quinn, Ruby Bowe, Esteban Kralik, Jose Garcia, Dion Jacobo, Charlie Thurston, Seth Wightman, Gus Janek, and Luis Linares. Each of them had been involved in the surveillance duty.
Dan Zagaki, another Homicide detective who had been part of the surveillance, was not included on the list. When Zagaki showed up in Homicide during the afternoon, Ainslie took the young detective to an empty office for a private talk. Zagaki was clearly uneasy as he sat down.
A comparative newcomer, Zagaki had been promoted to detective and assigned to Homicide two months earlier, moving up from uniform patrol duty, where his two-year record since recruitment had been excellent. He was from a distinguished military family, his father a U.S. Army general, an older brother a Marine lieutenant colonel. Since his Homicide arrival, Zagaki had demonstrated eagerness and energy perhaps too much of both, Ainslie reflected now.
"When we were doing our surveillance," Ainslie said, "you reported to me that Elroy Doil was probably not our killer. You recommended we eliminate him as a suspect and discontinue surveillance. Is that correct?"
"Well, yes, Sergeant. But my partner, Luis Linares, felt the same way."