The Church of Dead Girls (15 page)

“So you don't think there was any wrongdoing?”

“I am saying that as far as I know there is no automatic reason for assuming wrongdoing. She has been missing for two days. Of course wrongdoing is a strong possibility.”

“She apparently disappeared from Adams Street near the town limits around three o'clock Monday afternoon. You were seen in the vicinity at that time. Is it possible you could have driven past Sharon without noticing her?”

“It is possible. Many things were in my environment: trees, birds, houses, other cars, dogs. I remember none specifically.”

Franklin wrote this down. “Let's say she was abducted—what reasons can you give for that?”

“Surely your question is too hypothetical.”

“Then let me ask you, hypothetically, about rape. In some places it happens a lot; in some very little. Do you have any explanations for that?”

Chihani put his elbows on the desk. “The rapist often feels a victim of societal emasculation. His victim is a pretext; she, or he, represents society. The rapist, feebly, is trying to show that he is not emasculated or he is striking a blow against his own victimization, for certainly he, too, is a victim. Sex rarely comes into it. The emasculated are seeking power, the weak and commodified are expressing their discontent. These are general reasons. There is also the rapist's specific psychology to consider and we cannot know that unless we know the rapist.”

“Do you think Sharon Malloy might have been raped?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you believe that the rapist is as much a victim as the person he rapes?”

“He is surely a victim, but that isn't to say he shouldn't be punished. There are crimes which occur because a society is corrupt, crimes which are a reaction to that corruption. This is true of most crimes. The society can change itself to decrease those crimes or it can punish those whom it calls criminals. The rapist is as much a victim as the person he rapes, but in this society he is also breaking the law and so he will be punished.”

“You think he shouldn't be punished?”

“I think the reasons why he rapes are more important than the rape itself. To put the rapist in jail doesn't solve the problem of rape. It merely, temporarily, removes one rapist.”

“What changes would decrease the incidence of rape?”

“A society in which each member truly believed himself or herself the equal of every other member would have a much lower incidence of rape.”

“But rape wouldn't be eradicated completely?”

“There may be causes for rape that are not political, but if rape has to do with power and powerlessness, then those are the illnesses that must be treated. One of the problems with this society is that it tries to deal with the causes by punishing the effects, by making the potential perpetrators afraid. There is no attempt to remove the causes themselves.”

“Why?”

“Because the system depends on power and powerlessness. We cannot cleanse crime until changes are made within the society.”

Not all of this appeared in the
Independent.
Franklin edited it and moved sentences around. He felt he was being faithful to the original interview, but he also tried not to get Chihani in unnecessary trouble. For instance, he didn't mention that Chihani had been in the vicinity when Sharon had vanished. But people knew this and one reason they read the interview was to see what Chihani would say about it.

Franklin also left out Chihani's theoretical explanations, feeling they would muddy the water. It might have been better not to have interviewed Chihani at all, but Franklin was afraid to have the paper appear timid.

To the question about the abduction, Franklin had Chihani reply: “We don't even know she was abducted. Perhaps she went with the person willingly. Perhaps she went off by herself. At this moment she could be anywhere in the world. There is no automatic reason for assuming any wrongdoing.”

About rape Franklin had Chihani say, “Sex rarely comes into it. It's a matter of power. But I think the reason why the man rapes is more important than the rape itself. The rapist is also a victim, but in this society he is breaking the law and will be punished. A society in which each member truly believed himself or herself the equal of every other member would have a much lower incidence of rape.”

Aaron was released on bail Wednesday afternoon. The charge was vandalism stemming from the Homeland Cemetery incident. He still wouldn't say anything, however, about his whereabouts on Monday afternoon and night. My cousin said that the police came close to charging Aaron with Sharon's abduction, but that wasn't true. There was no solid evidence that Sharon had been abducted and there was nothing to link Aaron to the incident. What Chuck meant was that the police
wanted
to charge Aaron. He had refused to answer their questions. He had refused to talk. The police wanted him to be guilty because they wanted to punish him. I am not saying this was true of Captain Percy and it wasn't true of Ryan Tavich, but Aaron had made himself no friends.

Where he had been on Monday continued to be a mystery, but Aaron's impulses led him to exaggerate this mystery. He liked the fact that the police disliked him. Why else hadn't he told the police where he had been? It struck me that even if Aaron had been off doing something perfectly innocent, he still might refuse to answer. Just as a joke, just because he was like that. What's more, he had plenty of reasons to hurt us. His mother had been murdered and he had been mocked for being her son.

U
p until now one group of people has been absent from this discussion: Sharon Malloy's family. No matter how upset we were by Sharon's disappearance, our feelings were a faint echo of those experienced by the Malloys. Indeed, it is hard to calculate another's grief, which is an emotion without limit. I think of the grief I experienced after my mother's death or after friends of mine died, some quite young and from AIDS. I try to extend that to imagine how Sharon's family felt and I realize that I can only imagine a fraction of their grief.

The Malloys moved to Aurelius from Rochester when Sharon was three. Dr. Allen Malloy's sister, Martha, was married to a local accountant, Paul Leimbach, a highly admired man who probably did the tax returns for half the town. Dr. Malloy wanted to get out of the city. His house in Rochester had been broken into several times and he felt it would be better for his family to live in a safer environment. He chose Aurelius to be near his sister and brother-in-law. He bought a large white house and set himself up as a family practitioner. He and his wife, Catherine, had three children at that point: Sharon; Francis, or Frank, who was six; and Allen Junior, who was eight. The whole family attended Saint Mary's Church. Two years after coming here, Catherine had another child, little Millie, five years younger than Sharon.

Martha Leimbach also had four children, and the two families were quite close. Three years after the Malloys came to Aurelius, Dr. Malloy's brother, Donald, the pharmacist, moved here from Buffalo. Donald Malloy was divorced. He worked for a while at Fays, then bought a small drugstore downtown, which he expanded to sell magazines, newspapers, and soft drinks out of a cooler, the usual odds and ends. I can't believe he made much money, but having a brother who was a doctor certainly helped.

The Malloys and Leimbachs spent a lot of time together. Though they had other friends—Roberta Fletcher, who was Dr. Malloy's nurse, as well as Dr. Richards, who had an office in the same building over by the hospital—they seemed happiest with family. The Leimbachs' children were constantly with Dr. Malloy's children and the families had dinner together each Sunday after mass.

When Ryan Tavich went over to see Mrs. Kelly on Monday afternoon, one of the first things he did was to have officers contact Sharon's parents, as well as her aunt, Paul Leimbach, and Donald Malloy, to check if they had seen her. And clearly her siblings and cousins had to be found and asked the same question. Within an hour most had been located and none claimed to have seen Sharon. This was when Ryan called the state police. The family's grief can be dated from that point.

By six o'clock they had joined in the Malloys' home—five children and five adults—to await the news. The oldest boys, John Leimbach and Allen Junior, were away at college and wouldn't be called until the next day. My cousin, Chuck Hawley, was also with them, as well as Roberta Fletcher. Several neighbors sent over trays of sandwiches and potato salad, though no one ate much. But it surprised me how quickly people knew about the missing girl and how quickly they responded by seeing what they could do to help, even if it was no more than making a bowl of potato salad.

The Malloys' living room was a mixture of modern and colonial—overstuffed chairs and sofas, fabrics and drapes showing settlers' tools, end tables made to resemble butter churns. Almost the only noise was the ticking of the grandfather clock. People spoke in whispers. Now and then the phone rang, usually neighbors calling with worried questions or to express concern. Roberta Fletcher took the calls. She was a large no-nonsense woman who spoke to the callers as briefly as possible. She couldn't see why people should keep bothering the Malloys in their time of trouble.

A tall man, Dr. Malloy was sandy-haired and going a little bald, with a full red moustache that he liked to stroke from the middle with his thumb and index finger. He wore dark suits and looked every inch a doctor. He had light-blue eyes. His hands were large and pink, nearly hairless, with freckles on the backs. He always smelled of soap. I went to his office several times for flu shots but spoke to him only briefly. I suppose I have always felt somewhat uncomfortable with doctors. Some are so doctorlike that they appear to have no other personality. One wonders if people choose these professions in order to assume the profession's stereotypical personality. In this way, Allen Malloy resembled Captain Percy.

Dr. Malloy sat on the couch with his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands, and waited. He didn't cry, he didn't speak. Now and then his wife blew her nose. The children looked frightened. Paul Leimbach kept blowing his nose. Donald Malloy sat in the rocker chewing on his thumbnail. Occasionally he would shake his head.

One must infer their thoughts. Without doubt, each was speculating on what could have happened to Sharon. She was a young lady who was always on time, always let her parents know where she was going and generally behaved like a responsible adult. Now the ugly possibilities were probably being weighed against the benign ones. As more time passed, the benign possibilities grew less likely. Clearly, Dr. Malloy was thinking awful things and with each such thought he would say to himself, But that's impossible. Then he would realize it wasn't impossible. Then he would tell himself, But maybe nothing happened to Sharon. Then he would see that something had obviously happened. At home he often called his daughter Little Pigeon and he could hardly think of that name without tears coming to his eyes.

Sharon's disappearance made terrible things plausible. Perhaps she had been kidnapped and the kidnappers would call. Perhaps she had been beaten. Perhaps she had been raped or murdered. And the irony that the Malloys had moved to Aurelius to get away from the dangers of the city was lost on no one.

Even Dr. Malloy realized that had they stayed in Rochester Sharon would be safe. He would imagine a nameless hand reaching for her, grabbing her, tearing her clothes: his slim fourteen-year-old girl whom he had seen at breakfast that morning. The dog had been jumping around. Millie had burned her toast. Frank couldn't find his biology book. And then Dr. Malloy had gone: a Monday morning in mid-September with just a hint of frost. He had driven to his office. He had seen patients and made the rounds at the hospital. He had eaten lunch with his colleague Dr. Richards. He had seen more patients. Around four o'clock the police had arrived. Did he know the whereabouts of his daughter? And then it turned out that she had disappeared.

The family spent the evening waiting together and each time the phone or doorbell rang their hearts leapt. But it was never news about Sharon. At some point after midnight the children were sent to bed. Then Dr. Malloy gave his wife a sedative. Donald Malloy embraced his brother and went home. The Leimbachs left. Around three in the morning Roberta Fletcher went home. My cousin Chuck fell asleep in a chair. Now and then he woke and changed his position. Each time, he saw Dr. Malloy sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Chuck said he would have spoken but he didn't know what to say.

Tuesday came and went and there was no news. The Malloy and Leimbach children stayed home from school. Dr. Malloy canceled his appointments or turned them over to Dr. Richards. He went to City Hall and then to Potterville. He saw Houari Chihani brought in and then released. Of course he knew that Chihani's Citroën had been seen on Adams Street. Several TV newspeople tried to talk to him, but Chief Schmidt gave him a room in City Hall where he wouldn't be bothered. Through the window he saw Aaron being brought in, then Jesse and Shannon Levine, Harriet Malcomb, and the others, even Barry Sanders. Some he knew. He had treated Barry for colds and a variety of minor ailments, because Barry had quite a bit of his mother's hypochondria. And then Dr. Malloy saw them taken over to Potterville. Constantly, he asked if there was any news, but there never was.

At least a hundred men and women, volunteers and state police, scoured the fields around Adams Street. Dogs were brought in and given articles of Sharon's clothing for her scent. They found nothing. And this increased the speculation that Sharon had been taken away in an automobile. Neighbors who had already been asked if they had seen anything were interviewed again. TV and radio announcements called for information relating to Sharon Malloy. Several people responded who had spotted Sharon on her bike, but nobody had actually seen anything happen.

Dr. Malloy helped search the fields and his brother, Donald, went with him. Donald was weeping. Dr. Malloy's face was stiff and drawn. They walked side by side through the brush. Donald had a stick that he used to push aside branches and to poke under things. When it got dark both returned to City Hall. They found out that the members of the IIR had been charged with vandalism and released on their own recognizance. They learned that Aaron was in jail in Potterville but hadn't been charged in connection with anything related to Sharon. At some point Percy interviewed the entire Malloy and Leimbach families. Around eight o'clock Dr. Malloy and his brother went back to the doctor's house. The two boys who had been off at college came home and there was another evening of waiting. Again Chuck Hawley slept in the armchair. Dr. Malloy spent the night on the couch.

“He didn't seem to sleep at all,” Chuck said. “At least he was awake every time I looked.”

On Wednesday came news of various sightings. Sharon was seen in New York City. She was seen in Albany and Rochester and Buffalo and Syracuse. She was seen walking down a country road near Plattsburg. Each report caused a burst of optimism that disappeared when the sighting turned out to be false. Each disappointment felt worse than the one before. And the news of each sighting was met with less and less hope.

Aaron was released from jail in Potterville and returned to Aurelius. Chihani was brought down to City Hall a second time and again released. By Wednesday afternoon so much news was coming in about Sharon—all of it incorrect—that volunteers began to man the telephones. Her photograph was pinned up everywhere.

That evening Dr. Malloy went home and again the Malloys, the Leimbachs, and Donald waited in the living room for news. Neighbors sent food. Once more Chuck Hawley slept in the armchair. Dr. Malloy remained on the couch by the phone but this night, according to Chuck, he slept a little.

On Thursday the
Independent
appeared with Houari Chihani's comments. “Perhaps she went off willingly,” he was quoted as saying. “The rapist is a victim as much as the person he rapes. . . . The reason why he rapes is more important than the rape itself.”

Dr. Malloy read it and shook his head uncomprehendingly.

On the front page was a picture of Sharon, the one showing her standing by the garage door holding a baseball glove. She had been playing catch with her brother Frank. Dr. Malloy had taken the picture. There were interviews with Sharon's classmates. “She's the most wonderful friend I ever had,” said Joyce Bell. “She never got angry, she was always laughing,” said Meg Shiller. “I wouldn't say she was my best student,” said Lou Hendricks, who had Sharon in social studies, “but she was one of the best and she was certainly a pleasure to have in class.”

Members of Sharon's family were quoted. “We have no idea what could have happened,” said her brother Frank. “When I saw her on Monday morning, everything was fine.”

“If somebody hurt her,” said her uncle Donald, “then, I don't know, I'd like to kill that person. She's a saint, a wonderful little girl.”

Little Millie was quoted as saying, “I want my sister back.”

Franklin had also talked to Captain Percy. “At this moment we have hundreds of officers working on the case. Thousands of people are looking for her. We still hope she'll turn up.”

There was a lot of open country around Aurelius and hundreds of people searched it: troops of Boy Scouts, members of the National Guard, volunteers. One saw groups of schoolchildren exploring the woods in Lincoln Park or the surrounding fields. Both sides of the Loomis River were searched from Hamilton to Norwich. People explored Henderson State Park, the nearby lakes, and the quarry. Students missed school in order to help but there was no thought of penalizing them. There was the idea, a fantasy surely, that if everyone worked together, Sharon would be found alive and well. And if every square inch of the county was searched, then certainly she would be discovered. Even the phrase “every square inch” kept being repeated, as if not to say it violated a principle of magic. The fact that Sharon had disappeared so completely, into thin air, as Ryan had said, made magic seem possible. Before the whole business was over, psychics were consulted and people with reputed healing powers. I believe at one point even a dowser was brought in, although not by the family or the authorities.

There was another effect of Sharon's disappearance: starting on Wednesday there was a minor traffic jam at the beginning and end of school. Many children walk or ride their bikes; now most were being driven. Something had happened to Sharon Malloy. Who was to say it couldn't happen to someone else? Chief Schmidt hired two more policemen and one saw state troopers driving around everywhere.

The same issue of the
Independent
that carried the unfortunate remarks of Houari Chihani also had a story about the members of the IIR being charged with the vandalism in Homeland Cemetery in August. This didn't improve their popularity. Jason Irving withdrew from school and moved back to his parents' house in Kingston. Of course he had to receive police permission to do this. The others didn't quite disappear but they tried not to attract attention to themselves. The exceptions were Houari Chihani, whose red car was still to be seen around town, and Aaron McNeal, who didn't change his habits in any way.

The police were still trying to find out where Aaron had been that Monday afternoon and evening. There was talk of a legal hearing so that if Aaron still refused to disclose his whereabouts he could be charged with contempt. I know for a fact that the county prosecutor was working on this.