Luca radioed the dispatcher and asked if she still had the neighbor on the phone.
“Yes. He’s waiting by the front door to let you in.”
“Did he say if the screams belonged to a man or a woman?” Luca asked.
Joe glanced over at him curiously.
The dispatcher relayed the question and answered back, “It sounds like a man.”
“Any response from another person? And if so, male or female?”
After a brief pause, she came back and said the neighbor reported only one person was doing the screaming.
Luca thanked her and said, “Over and out.”
They arrived at the building quickly. On the way to the door, Joe asked, “What difference does it make if the screams are male or female?”
“I just want as much information as I can get before entering the situation.”
Joe shrugged. “Must be something they taught you in college. I usually just knock loudly, announce it’s the police, and wait with my hand on my weapon. The screaming usually stops before they let me in.”
When the concerned neighbor opened the outer door, he said, “Upstairs. First door on the right.”
Luca didn’t hear any screaming, but as they got closer, he heard crying and begging.
Oh, crap. I hope we’re not too late.
He banged on the door and announced, “Boston Police.”
The door opened cautiously, and a thin, unkempt man peeked over the chain through red-rimmed eyes. A moment later, he closed the door to undo the chain lock and then opened it fully and stood aside.
Luca glanced past the man but didn’t see anyone in the living room or kitchen. “Is there anyone else here?”
“N…no. Well, not really. I’ll explain.”
The two of them entered the apartment cautiously. “Mind if we take a look around?” Joe asked.
“You won’t find anyone. He’s inside me.”
Luca and Joe glanced at each other. Joe’s face remained stony. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The man sounded like he was suffering from a mental illness. In a way, Luca was glad Joe was out of the way. He knew veteran cops often dismissed the “crazies” as he’d heard them called.
“What’s your name?”
“George.”
“George, I’m Officer Fierro. Tell me what’s upsetting you,” he said gently.
“I have a demon inside me. I need an exorcism, and my priest won’t do it. He won’t even come to my home anymore.”
“I see. It sounds like this has been going on for a while.”
“A few years. I’m praying and taking my medication, like my priest told me to. But it’s not working anymore. The demon is too strong.” He began to cry again.
“Are you Catholic, sir?”
“Yes. A practicing Catholic. And my priest won’t do an exorcism!”
