“And you know that how?” Kasey demanded. “Janice, you’ve got to see reason. We have real work to do here. The lives of dozens of people depend on us and our work. If we get the reputation for being a pack of moonbeam nutcases, nobody will ever listen to us again.”
“That’s a tactic of the patriarchy, too,” Janice said. “Get all the good guys fighting with each other and being scared to do anything because somebody will call them names. I was there, Kasey, I was right there when it happened, and I’m telling you. Petrak Maldovanian isn’t the one who killed Martha Handling. He couldn’t have been. They’re getting together right now to frame him for this murder, and the way you’re acting, you’re going to help.”
“I don’t see how you can blame this on the patriarchy,” Kasey said. “Everybody involved in it seems to be men.”
“Martha Handling wasn’t a man,” Janice said. “She was a male-identified woman, but she wasn’t a man. And it wouldn’t matter if she were a man. The patriarchy isn’t just afraid of women. It’s afraid of everybody. It’s marginalized the whole world, and now it has to watch those marginalized people in case they get ideas. The patriarchy is just as afraid of immigrants as it is of women.”
“I thought that priest you’ve been going on about was an immigrant,” Kasey said.
“He’s a friend of Gregor Demarkian’s,” Janice said. “Don’t you see? It’s the way these things work. He’s one of the most powerful men in the entire city. And this priest is his friend. And he won’t let anything put his friend away. Even though you know the priest has to have done it. He’s got to be like all priests—he can’t stand women, he can’t stand equality, he wants to do his mumbo jumbo and keep everybody in thrall.”
“If you’re trying to tell me it was Gregor Demarkian who killed Martha Handling, I’m pretty sure that was impossible.”
“I just told you it wasn’t Gregor Demarkian,” Janice said. “He wasn’t even there. It was that priest. I walked in and I saw him. He had the gavel in his hand and he was covered with blood. If he were anybody except a friend of Gregor Demarkian’s, they would have—”
“They would have what, Janice? They’ve already arrested him. They’ve already charged him with the murder of Martha Handling. I don’t know what else it is you think they ought to do.”
“It’s all a sham,” Janice said desperately. “Don’t you see that? They arrested the priest, but they’re letting Gregor Demarkian do anything he wants. That’s because this is what he does. He gets people off when there are murder charges—”
“Last time I checked, we were generally in favor of getting people off on murder charges.”
“Only when the charges aren’t true,” Janice said. “That’s what makes the charges so sinister. They’ll maneuver it around so that the priest gets off and it looks like this poor immigrant kid did the whole thing and then they’ll be safe, probably forever. Then even Pennsylvania Justice won’t be able to straighten it out.”
“If they do arrest this kid and there’s reason to think there was a frame, we’ll step in then,” Kasey said. “Be reasonable, Janice. That’s what we do.”
“You’ll let a kid who hasn’t done anything be arrested and convicted and go to jail and then when that’s all over, you’ll step in and help out. After the injustice has been done. When the kid doesn’t have a chance anymore. When his life has been ruined. And you call yourself a social justice organization!”
“It’s getting late, Janice. I’ve got actual work I have to do.” Kasey Holbrook hung up.
Janice couldn’t believe it. You didn’t hang up on one of your best volunteers. You didn’t hang up on one of your most significant contributors, either. Janice knew that she was both those things. And she was not indulging in conspiracy theories, either. She’d been there. She’d seen the priest with the blood all over him and the other people coming in and out of the room, and she knew Petrak Maldovanian had not murdered Martha Handling.
She made herself do the whole thing. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths. She repeated her soothing words over and over again: peace, justice, equality, fairness, love. It did not work so well as she wanted it to. It had never worked so well as she wanted it to. Sometimes nothing worked. She got so angry and so upset that she couldn’t help herself. She got so angry and upset, she just had to explode.