The Target
Page 101
"Mama, you're hurting me."
"What? Oh goodness, Em, I'm sorry. Look, there's Ramsey. Let's see if he wants to go to Bunratty."
They left Dromoland grounds an hour later, a picnic basket packed in the backseat beside Emma, with ham-and-cheese sandwiches, nothing else, because the Irish, Molly said, evidently didn't believe in mayonnaise or mustard or tomatoes or lettuce. They did, however, have potato chips. And lots of local cider.
The lanes were so narrow that if another car came along, they had to back up into one of the bulges, Emma called them, and park until the other car passed. "I'm nearly used to driving on the wrong side," Ramsey said as they passed a car on a turnout. "In the east of Ireland there are lots more people and better roads. By the time you get over Dublin way, you're pretty much used to all these strange things."
There was only one tour bus parked at Bunratty. They had nearly the entire shaded park to themselves. Emma climbed the castle's main stairs all on her own.
"WE think we've found him. or at least we know who he is." Ramsey gripped the phone tight. It was midnight in Ireland, seven o'clock in Washington, D.C. Savich said again, "Ramsey, you there? Damned telephones. We got a poor connection?"
"No, it's fine. You really found him, Savich?" "Yep. Well, we don't have him in the slammer yet, but we know who he is. His name's John Dickerson, aka Sonny Dickerson, aka Father Sonny. He's forty-eight years old, an ex-priest, finally booted out by the Church because he'd been so flagrant that the good bishops and the cardinal had to oust him. You remember how they used to just ship the pedophile priests from one unsuspecting parish to another after having sent the offending priest off for spiritual and psychological rehabilitation?"
"Yeah. Thank God the Church now hands them over to be prosecuted."
"Yes, once they realized there were no cures. This guy was so over the edge that at the last parish they sent him to the people found out about him within a week of his arrival. Unfortunately, he had time to molest a little girl while her mother was in the church bathroom. There was a wedding rehearsal going on at the same time. Everyone came running out when they heard the mother yelling her head off. The bride and groom got an eyeful. He was in prison until about a year ago. He was supposed to register when he got out, but he didn't. He's been a fugitive, but no one ever really tried to find him, not enough cops, larger cases, until now."
"Does he look like Emma's description?" "Have I got a surprise for you. I inputted the police sketch, just as if it were a photograph, into what we call the Facial Recognition Algorithm program. The general public doesn't know about this program yet; I got it from a friend who helped develop it for Scotland Yard. I've made modifications and have been working on it for the FBI. We've already uploaded photographs of every convicted child molester in the United States, and several other groups of violent felons too.
"With MAXINE's help, we treated the police sketch like a photograph and ran the program. What this program does is compare the photo, or the sketch in this case, to the photos in the database. It compares, for example, the distance between the eyes, the length of the nose, the exact size of the upper lip, the distance between various facial bones, you get the idea. Since MAXINE and I are pretty flexible, we managed to make the comparisons and came up with a list of a couple of hundred who resembled the sketch. We found Father Sonny in the group in under an hour. He fits all the other characteristics: he's a heavy smoker, has rotten teeth, drinks too much, and he's been out of Folsom for about eight months. His prison records indicate he refused any dental care. He said, and I quote: 'I won't have any of those drill-wielding assholes in my mouth.' He's a real hard case, Ramsey, real hard. They only let him out because they didn't have a choice."
"Did he molest both little boys and little girls?" Savich said, "Evidently he didn't have a particular preference, at least then. Obviously if Shaker hired him to kidnap Emma, in order to bring Louey into line, he's no longer on Shaker's payroll since Louey's dead, and since Emma managed to get away from him."
Ramsey said, "I can't imagine that Shaker would ever want to see this guy again, unless it was to have a little talk with him. No way Shaker knew he was a child molester when he hired him to kidnap Emma."
"So what Father Sonny did in San Francisco was all on his own." Savich paused a moment, then added, "He took a hell of a risk taking Emma right from under your nose. That's really out of control."
"What? Oh goodness, Em, I'm sorry. Look, there's Ramsey. Let's see if he wants to go to Bunratty."
They left Dromoland grounds an hour later, a picnic basket packed in the backseat beside Emma, with ham-and-cheese sandwiches, nothing else, because the Irish, Molly said, evidently didn't believe in mayonnaise or mustard or tomatoes or lettuce. They did, however, have potato chips. And lots of local cider.
The lanes were so narrow that if another car came along, they had to back up into one of the bulges, Emma called them, and park until the other car passed. "I'm nearly used to driving on the wrong side," Ramsey said as they passed a car on a turnout. "In the east of Ireland there are lots more people and better roads. By the time you get over Dublin way, you're pretty much used to all these strange things."
There was only one tour bus parked at Bunratty. They had nearly the entire shaded park to themselves. Emma climbed the castle's main stairs all on her own.
"WE think we've found him. or at least we know who he is." Ramsey gripped the phone tight. It was midnight in Ireland, seven o'clock in Washington, D.C. Savich said again, "Ramsey, you there? Damned telephones. We got a poor connection?"
"No, it's fine. You really found him, Savich?" "Yep. Well, we don't have him in the slammer yet, but we know who he is. His name's John Dickerson, aka Sonny Dickerson, aka Father Sonny. He's forty-eight years old, an ex-priest, finally booted out by the Church because he'd been so flagrant that the good bishops and the cardinal had to oust him. You remember how they used to just ship the pedophile priests from one unsuspecting parish to another after having sent the offending priest off for spiritual and psychological rehabilitation?"
"Yeah. Thank God the Church now hands them over to be prosecuted."
"Yes, once they realized there were no cures. This guy was so over the edge that at the last parish they sent him to the people found out about him within a week of his arrival. Unfortunately, he had time to molest a little girl while her mother was in the church bathroom. There was a wedding rehearsal going on at the same time. Everyone came running out when they heard the mother yelling her head off. The bride and groom got an eyeful. He was in prison until about a year ago. He was supposed to register when he got out, but he didn't. He's been a fugitive, but no one ever really tried to find him, not enough cops, larger cases, until now."
"Does he look like Emma's description?" "Have I got a surprise for you. I inputted the police sketch, just as if it were a photograph, into what we call the Facial Recognition Algorithm program. The general public doesn't know about this program yet; I got it from a friend who helped develop it for Scotland Yard. I've made modifications and have been working on it for the FBI. We've already uploaded photographs of every convicted child molester in the United States, and several other groups of violent felons too.
"With MAXINE's help, we treated the police sketch like a photograph and ran the program. What this program does is compare the photo, or the sketch in this case, to the photos in the database. It compares, for example, the distance between the eyes, the length of the nose, the exact size of the upper lip, the distance between various facial bones, you get the idea. Since MAXINE and I are pretty flexible, we managed to make the comparisons and came up with a list of a couple of hundred who resembled the sketch. We found Father Sonny in the group in under an hour. He fits all the other characteristics: he's a heavy smoker, has rotten teeth, drinks too much, and he's been out of Folsom for about eight months. His prison records indicate he refused any dental care. He said, and I quote: 'I won't have any of those drill-wielding assholes in my mouth.' He's a real hard case, Ramsey, real hard. They only let him out because they didn't have a choice."
"Did he molest both little boys and little girls?" Savich said, "Evidently he didn't have a particular preference, at least then. Obviously if Shaker hired him to kidnap Emma, in order to bring Louey into line, he's no longer on Shaker's payroll since Louey's dead, and since Emma managed to get away from him."
Ramsey said, "I can't imagine that Shaker would ever want to see this guy again, unless it was to have a little talk with him. No way Shaker knew he was a child molester when he hired him to kidnap Emma."
"So what Father Sonny did in San Francisco was all on his own." Savich paused a moment, then added, "He took a hell of a risk taking Emma right from under your nose. That's really out of control."
