Page 119 of Love Undecided
“This was Gil unlike I’ve ever seen him. In some ways I was proud of how he handled this, and in how he’s handled himself with this,” he says.
“So, there are times where Gil is in control of what’s happening, like when he self-medicates to control his urges,” I say, trying to confirm what he’s telling us. Trying to wrap my head around the whole idea.
“Yes, Dissociative Identity Disorder is not as plain as black and white. It lies in the gray areas of explanation. Every person and every situation can be different. Even though I am the stronger one, there are still times when Gil is stronger than me —”
He stops talking, then laughs.
“Even now, he tries to argue his strength,” he says, his smile wide. “The times that he is stronger are not often or constant, but they are there. It is important to remember that my purpose is to protect Gil from situations that he can’t handle on his own. Even though, ultimately, I want him to be strong.”
“So, he didn’t physically molest any of the girls?” I ask.
“No, he did not,” Ronald says.
I’m relieved he didn’t hurt the girls in a physical way. Though I still don’t understand his motivation. I decide to ask the main question still on my mind.
“Why five girls?”
“I can answer that.”
His demeanor has changed again. And even if his voice hadn’t, I’d still know that I was now talking to Gil.
I sit back in my seat and try to get comfortable. I have a feeling this is going to take a while.
* * *
We take a late break from the interrogation to have lunch. I am tired beyond comprehension. All I want to do is go home and cry for a while, then go to bed. I want to cry for the girls and how scared they must have been. Even if he did drug them, I am sure that a small part of them was aware of their surroundings, and it had to have been terrifying.
I want to cry for their families because they had no idea where their daughters were or if they would ever see them again. And when they did see them again, what would they find their daughters had endured. I’m sure, as a parent, always wondering what he did to them and why they couldn’t protect them.
And, believe it or not, I want to cry for a young boy named Gil. Who suffered through such horrifying things as a child, things that no one should ever have to endure. I want to cry for how he can be such a dichotomy as an adult. How he knows, intellectually, that his tendencies are wrong, but how he can’t stop them emotionally. And how he fights those tendencies every chance he gets. I want to cry for Gil because he is a true product of his environment. I don’t think he ever stood a chance to be anything but bad.
Sherman comes into the precinct break room where I happen to be nursing a cup of coffee. He sits down heavily in a chair next to mine.
“He calls me Chubby Cohort,” he says.
I start to laugh. “Out of everything he’s told me, that is what you are coming away with?”
He sighs. “What can I say?” He holds his hand over his heart. “Words wound. And his hit me right here.”
I laugh at him again. Delighted with this new Sherman who is a bit of a jokester, and grateful for the sudden lightness in the mood.
“Do you think he will talk to you if I leave?” I ask.
“I think you’ve gotten most of what we are going to get from him today. We know what he did and when. We know a little of why, but why doesn’t really matter. And we will know soon, with certainty, if he is distributing kiddie porn. Tech forensics have been working on his computer all day. If it helps, they didn’t find any still photos or captured video feeds of you.”
“That does help, thanks,” I tell him. “I’m going to head out then, if that’s okay with you.”
“Absolutely. You’ve been a huge help, once again, I’m not sure we would have solved this without you,” he tells me.
I smile at the compliment. “Thank you, but we both know that’s not true. You would have solved it eventually, it just may have taken a little longer.” I stand to walk out the door. “Tell Bauer I said bye.”
“I will,” Sherman says at the same time that Bauer walks in and says, “Tell Bauer you said bye? Cookie, I’m hurt you wouldn’t seek me out to give me a kiss goodbye. No hug or anything?”
I backhand him on the shoulder. “At least the level of your ego never wavers,” I say.
He waggles his eyebrows at me. “With good reason. Or so the ladies tell me.”
I laugh at him and wave at them both over my head as I leave the room.
