“That’s when I called Dr. Scholl. I’ve referred so many troubled people to him, we’ve come to know each other quite well. Anyway, the doctor was kind enough to take all this time away from his schedule to help.” He looked directly at Scholl. “For all you’ve done today, I will be forever grateful. Especially for, in effect, breaking this to Father Kramer.”
Scholl simply nodded.
“Since Inspector Koznicki didn’t join us until we got to Mother of Sorrows to confront Father Kramer,” Koesler said, “maybe you could now explain your diagnosis to him, Doctor?”
“Well, it’s hardly a full-blown diagnosis at this stage,” Scholl said. “And I’m sure the inspector is familiar with a dissociative reaction.”
Koznicki was indeed familiar with that specific variety of abnormal behavior. Forensic psychiatrists had alleged it often enough in court to elicit an immediate negative reaction from both police and prosecutors. But even without this doctor’s expert testimony, Koznicki was very much prone to agree with this diagnosis. His nod, more for Koesler’s benefit than his own, encouraged Dr. Scholl to expound.
“Briefly,” Scholl proceeded, “it’s based on very normal behavior—just as is every abnormality. Fear of heights, for instance, is quite common. But when the fear becomes so intense that it immobilizes a person, when it becomes beyond control, when it is irrational, it too becomes an abnormality, a pathology.
“So it is with a dissociative reaction. Perfectly normal people go on vacations to get away from the demands of everyday life. The housewife appreciates getting away from the house, from cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, and the like. The businessman may prefer a wilderness where there are no demands to shave, dress according to Molloy, attend meetings, and so forth.
“The dissociative reaction raises this natural desire to escape to a pathological level. It can take the form of massive amnesia, or a fugue—flight—or even multiple personalities. And I would not be surprised if we have all three of those manifestations in the case of Father Kramer.
“In Father’s case, it would seem at least that he has been holding in an enormous amount of pressure and stress over a great number of years—starting at age thirteen when he was rejected by a seminary and discovered he was considered illegitimate. He seems to have compensated by attempting a constant overachievement.
“Frankly, carrying all that emotional baggage, I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did without a breakdown.”
“It was the drinking that threw me off the track in the beginning.” Koesler was addressing Koznicki. “I figured that if Dick was, by his own word, drunk pretty regularly on Sunday afternoons, and specifically on the two Sundays when the murders were committed, he couldn’t possibly have done them. But the doctor assured me it is possible.”
“Not only possible,” Scholl completed the thought, “but I’ve seen it in my own practice any number of times. People go through elaborate functions and have no recollection of them whatsoever. What probably happened here was that Father Kramer did not drink as much as he thought he had. Or that he had built up a pretty good tolerance for a considerable amount of alcohol. In any case, the relaxing effect of the drink helped him slip into the reaction. As much as anything else, it was a matter of duration. I think Father suppressed this pressure for as long as he possibly could, and then he reacted.”
“And he wouldn’t know? He wouldn’t have the slightest notion of where he’d been or what he’d done?” Koesler, still in a sense of near-disbelief, asked.
Scholl nodded. “A person must present a difficult report at work on Monday morning. A report for which he is completely unprepared. On Sunday he travels to Chicago. He is still there on Monday morning rather than in Detroit where he’s supposed to be. He has experienced a fugue, a flight. He has no memory at all of having traveled to Chicago. He doesn’t know how he got there or why he went. Only that he could not face that meeting. Then his defense mechanism took over.
“You saw earlier when I mentioned to Father Kramer the incident of his having gone to the archdiocesan archives to find the motto of Pope Pius XII, he remembered rather vaguely having done so. But he was unclear as to why he’d done it. Many dissociates can remember events that led to a fugue without any memory of the flight itself.
“What happens then—and, specifically, what happened in Father Kramer’s case—was that his personality began to disintegrate. One Sunday, operating under a completely distinct personality, he forged and made the branding iron he would later use. He hid it and when the fugue was over, forgot it entirely.
“But he was ready. He was ready to throw off all that pressure and stress.
“And so the tragedy took place. On two consecutive Sundays, Father Kramer—or, rather, a distinct other person within Father Kramer—stalked a likely victim. His subconscious mind had been feeding for years on the notion that his mother, having given birth to an illegitimate son, was a whore. So he went looking for an older prostitute. He accompanied her to a place of assignation. Then he killed her, ripped out her reproductive organs, and branded her.
“As he returned to his normal self, he had lost a good deal of his subconscious hostility, but could not possibly face what he had done—or, rather, what his other personality had done. So he made a sweeping denial of the tragedy and of his participation in it. Then he made a sweeping repression of all he had denied. In other words, first he denied it happened, then he repressed the denial. As a result, he made all of his actions inaccessible and unconscious.”
Dr. Scholl paused, satisfied that he had adequately explained Father Kramer’s pathological reaction to intolerable stress. And indeed he had, particularly as far as Inspector Koznicki was concerned. Koznicki was certain that Scholl would testify for the defense along with a parade of expert witnesses. And, from his vast experience, Koznicki knew their testimony would be effectual, particularly in Father Kramer’s case. It was almost the only possible explanation for what had happened.
“Finally,” Scholl concluded, “you both saw Father Kramer’s reaction earlier this afternoon when I, in effect, talked him through the whole scenario. At first, he seemed a bemused listener. After all, he had just been released from prison. Another man—Bush—had been indicted for all three murders. And Father was back in the safety of his rectory with no memory of what he had actually done.
“But, as my explication of what really had happened continued, Father changed. First, in an incredulous reaction. Finally, there was a radical change as the truth began to seep into his conscious mind and the inaccessible began to become accessible.”
Koesler would never forget it. Indelibly etched in his memory was the naked horror on Dick Kramer’s face when he first began to comprehend what had happened. Koesler knew he would forever remember Kramer’s cry of utter despair when faced with reality. That long, tortured wail, “Nooooo!” And, at that point, Kramer had only begun to get the first dark glimpse of the hell he would have to enter.
Fortunately, they had been able to get Father Kramer admitted to the psychiatric ward of the hospital under arrest and watch. He had been heavily sedated. He had a long, long way to go.
Father Koesler seemed more calm and self-possessed than he had even a few minutes before. Dr. Scholl decided everything was under control here and that it was more than time for him to get back to work. He made his farewells and departed.
Koznicki seemed undecided about leaving. “How about one more cup of coffee, Inspector?”