All language subtitles for The.Keepers.S01E05.720p.WEBRip.HEVC.2CH.x265

For the longest time,
I was so angry at God.

I thought, "God let this happen.
God did this to me."

I was scared to death to talk about it,
to experience it.

To be able to accept the fact
that this has happened.

There's so many foggy memories,

so many questions that I have
about what happened,

which is why I didn't, uh, say anything
for so long.

It was like
I didn't really know what happened.

And it wasn't something I wanted to know.

I didn't wanna know any of it.

But then one day, it was the late '90s

and I had heard that, uh, Father Maskell
was at Stella Maris

hiding in the dementia ward.

So, I put on a bright red suit

and I made an appointment
with the admissions director.

I told them I was looking for my father,

and I went to see Father Maskell.

I paid attention to how she got in there,
took note of all the buttons she pushed.

We went in there
and then I stood in front of his room.

And I asked a lot of questions
and just looked inside

and saw that he was, uh, in the bed.

After she had given me all the information
and left me,

I went in exactly
how she had taken me through,

back to his ward.

It was supposed to be employees only,
but I went back in.

And, um, he was being wheeled out.

Now, he's not that old, you know, he's 60.

Early 60s, something like that.

I went up to the caregiver
and I said, "I know Father Maskell.

Would it be okay if I said hello?"
And she goes, "Sure."

So, I get right up to his face

and put my hands on his arms
and everything

and I said, "Father Maskell.
It's Lil Hughes.

Do you remember me? I used to work
with you at Archbishop Keough."

And I'm, like, about
this far from his face.

I probably would've had some things
to say to him.

I would've told him exactly
what he had done to me,

but there was no one home.

No one. There was nothing
in his eyes at all.

All the evil gone, everything was gone.

Something took care of it.

His life was ending in his early 60s,
which is premature and well-deserved.

Okay. Well...

Maskell's dead.
So, that takes him out of the game.

But I've never been convinced

that Maskell was directly...

hands on, involved in the murder.

I didn't get the impression that...
That Maskell was the kind of guy

who would do that himself.

Now, he might well have
gotten somebody to do that.

That struck me
as a much more possible theory.

Somewhere, some... Somebody knows
something, as the saying goes and...

But we don't know who.

I got a text message,
and a woman asked me to call her.

And when I called her, she said,
"My uncle killed Sister Cathy."

So, of course, I was taken aback.

And we talked some more
and I asked her a lot of questions.

And, um, we kind of were dubious at first.

It sounds far-fetched,
but the more people you begin to talk to,

who tell you versions of the same story,

who didn't know each other,
the more you begin to think

maybe there is more to this
than we know.

Family secrets
are very dangerous.

When you tell a child not to speak
of something and they do,

it makes it easier
not to speak of other things.

And then I think there's a... A point

where the adults begin
to believe the secrets.

My mom was a drinker.

And one night,
we're sitting up really late

and she had had a whole lot to drink.

I did not drink,
so I was sitting there listening to her.

And she starts talking
about my uncle, Uncle Ed.

And she went on and on
about a trunk and bloody clothes,

and had this whole story
about her brother.

I waited until the next day
and brought it up to her in the kitchen,

and she looked at me panicked
and said, "I never said that."

And I didn't hear anything else
about it for years.

My aunt was Uncle Ed's first wife.

We had connected on Facebook
probably about four years ago.

She was telling me, um, her version

of what happened the night
that Sister Cathy went missing.

Well, we met in probably
junior year of high school.

I just immediately was drawn to him.

He was very kind to me,
he was good-looking, very charming.

I guess it was almost like
love at first sight.

We became engaged at Christmastime.

Three days before the wedding
actually was to take place,

his sister called and she said,
"I don't want you to marry my brother.

There's things about Ed you don't know."

And I said, "What do you mean?

I know he's immature.
I've seen some of that."

I said, "But after... You know,
after we get married, I'll fix him."

So, we got married.

And one day, I went home early from work.

And for the first time,
I got to open the mail

and find out
that there were bills piled up,

the rent wasn't getting paid,

there was threatening notices
from everywhere.

So, I was just sitting
and kind of shaking in it,

in the chair when he came in.

And as soon as he came in,
I said, "You're busted."

I said, "I know what you've been doing.

You've been playing these games.

You have not been going to work."

I said, "You're lying."

So, I went and got my suitcase
and I started putting stuff in it.

And Ed, at that point, got violent.

His face became extremely,
um, agitated and distorted,

and he started choking me.

And he said, "Do you realize
that I could kill you right now

and tell myself
that somebody else did this

and believe it?"

And I swore
I would never go near this man again.

But, unbeknownst to me,
I was carrying twins.

So... we went back together.

And, um, in October, the twins were born,

and the little girl was four-seven,
so, they kept her in the preemie ward.

November 7th was the day
that Bon Secours Hospital called me

and said, "You can pick
your little daughter up tomorrow.

She's exactly five pounds."

So, I came in on the 7th,

and I'm all excited
about picking our baby up.

I looked at the clock in the foyer
when he walked in

and I said, "What are you doing home?
It's only 9:30."

And then I happened to notice right away
that his white shirt was full of blood.

I was like, "What happened?"

Ed says, "Oh, nothing."

He says, "My boss
wouldn't give me my paycheck

and I know how bad we need it."

He said, "So, I got in a fight with him
and he punched me in the nose."

And it was that Sunday...

when the news came out on the TV
that Sister Cesnik had disappeared.

He was sitting in a chair
right in front of the TV

and I was feeding the babies,

and it's, you know, freeze-frame
in my head.

And I heard the newsman saying

that the sister had disappeared
on November 7th.

Right away, I'm getting a flashback.

"November 7th, that was the night
before we picked up our baby.

That was the night Ed came in
with the bloody shirt."

So, I looked at him,

and his reaction was
rocking back in the chair

and getting a smirk and kind of laughing.

He said, "By the time they find her body,
it's gonna be wintertime.

She's gonna be buried under the snow."

And I couldn't get my mind
off of his reaction,

and my mind going back to that night,

and, "My God,
could Ed have done something like that?"

And then, you know, shortly after that,
Ed came home

and he said he had stopped
at Montgomery Ward's.

He gave me the bill so I could see
how much it was, and I said, "Holy cow.

Brand new tires?"
I said, "Why? We can't afford this."

He said, "Well, I just felt
that wintertime's coming

and we should have new tires."

So, I started putting that
as another piece to the puzzle

and thinking, "I wonder
if that's why he got the tires changed,

'cause of tracks?"

We separated in October of 1970,

right before the twins' first birthday.

A year later, would've been,
uh, 1971, October.

My girlfriend called me and said
that she read the newspaper,

and there was a guy going around
at Rock Glen High School

trying to pick up girls.

It was a man in his 20s,
and, uh, brown hair, blue eyes,

driving a car around
Rock Glen High School

trying to entice girls into the car.

It was a stolen car
from British Imports in Towson.

Ed called me the night before
or the night before that

and said he was driving around
in a stolen car

from British Imports in Towson.

I called the police
about that newspaper article,

which eventually did lead
to Ed's arrest

in November of '71.

What's that mean?

Did you...? Is this a touch screen?

Ah-ha! Well, that... That could be...

Is he there?

Ah! Hey.
Okay. Are you there?

Hi.
There you are.

Hi.
Good.

I'll hang up my phone.
You can see us?

We have a table set out here
with coffee filters

with all of our main players' names
on them, and...

Yeah, great.
Gemma has tried to create a web here

of people and their connections
to each other.

Okay.
You wanna talk about Edgar?

Let's bring Edgar into it.

Edgar was a man
who lived a complicated life.

I mean, he was arrested for car theft
two years after Cathy was murdered,

and he was loitering at the middle school

trying to pick up middle school girls
in a stolen car.

And literally, the middle school is here

and Cathy's apartment complex is here.

They butt up against each other
at parking lots.

We looked at him
because Edgar's first wife,

who I believe,
she gave us this complicated story,

and we researched it and looked it up,

and everything was true.

We found court records,
we found marriage licenses,

uh, newspaper articles, everything
confirmed her details perfectly.

The night that Cathy was abducted,

she was shopping that evening
for an engagement present for her sister.

And when the police found her car,
they had proof of a bank transaction.

So, we know that she did go
to the bank to cash the check.

She was going to go and buy
some Baltimore favorite baked rolls

at a bakery called Muhly's.

And they found those rolls in the car
when they found the car.

So, we know she went to Muhly's.

She said was gonna go
and buy this engagement present.

When they searched the car,
the present was not there

and has never been found.

The Christmas
after Sister Cesnik disappeared,

Ed gave me this necklace
as part of a Christmas gift.

And just kind of came up behind me
and put it on my neck.

He said, "This is for you."

He didn't really give me gifts like that.

We didn't have any money,
I didn't know how we could afford...

And if he were to pick out jewelry,
you know,

I was almost certain
he would get my birthstone.

But it had a green stone in it,
and then it was a wedding bell.

And I thought,
why are you giving me a wedding bell

when we've already been married
for, you know, a year, maybe almost two.

I felt like he didn't buy that for me.

I felt like it was for somebody else
and it was given to me.

You know, I, like, just kept it in one
place in my jewelry box and never wore it.

And don't know why I kept it.

I mean... I... I just forgot about it.

Debbie's aunt gave us the...
The necklace, told us to hold on to it.

I looked at the stone and as...
As you can see it's a light, light green,

which is an August birthstone.

So, you know,
I think we both have the goal

that if there are still people
that are still alive involved in this,

we obviously wanna see justice done.

And we'd like to return it

or, you know, give it to the person
that it was intended for.

I did get in touch with
Cathy's cousins in Pennsylvania

who were initially pleasant,

but sort of said,
"We've had enough pain, leave us alone.

We don't have anything to tell you."
We sort of respected that.

We wanted to try to get in touch
with the family to ask them:

"Does green mean something?
Was it the bride's favorite color?

Was it a birthstone for the bride?

Does it have any significance
in view of being something

that she might have picked out for
the wedding for an engagement present?"

As our investigation progressed
and developed,

we found that an anonymous tip line
would be helpful.

So, Abbie set this up so that anybody
who had information to share with us,

questions, comments,
could send information anonymously.

When we felt like
we had gathered a lot of evidence

and were starting to make assumptions
about Edgar Davidson

and his family as being involved
in Sister Cathy's murder...

...a whole other family showed up
on our anonymous tip line.

That was the Schmidt Family,

the niece of a man
who had been Sister Cathy's neighbor

shared with us a very similar story.

That she felt like her uncle
had been involved in Cathy's murder.

I'm a pinch hitter today.

Gemma is laid low with a bronchitis
and a laryngitis and can't speak at all.

So, I volunteered
to fill in for her stead.

Leave my computer and my research lines
to actually come talk to people.

That's a little scary
to have to go talk to people,

but we will... We will tough it out.

Nobody's hurt me so far in this.

We are driving to meet a lady
I have never met named Sharon Schmidt.

We had Edgar's family, who believed
that he was involved with her murder.

And now we have a second family
coming forward

saying that they have a man
in their family

who they believed was involved that night.

So, now our task is to try to figure out

if evidence is pointing more
toward one or the other,

or if there's a chance
they were working together on this,

perhaps at the behest of Father Maskell.

Hi. Did you find me okay?

Hi, Abbie.
Hi.

Hi, I'm Sharon. Nice to meet you.

I guess I'm anxious to hear
what we're gonna talk about tonight.

I view my family as a pretty open
and communicative type of family.

But this has flushed some things out
of our family closet

that I just wasn't aware of.

I remember the night,

because my mother and father
were having a very, very, very...

It seems to me
like a really intense argument.

And it was... As a child,
I was afraid in the situation.

He said to my mother,
"You wanna know why I drink?

Because we killed a woman
and we put her behind the shop."

I think my mother believes that my family,
my uncle, had something to do with it.

And maybe my father was speaking
about something he knew.

I will never forget that.

When you take a look at where she lived
and where she was found,

it's just too many coincidences.

So, this is where Sister Cathy lived
and my Uncle Bill was right here.

Jeez.

It's like about ten steps
to my uncle's apartment

when he lived in this complex.

So, this was my uncle's apartment
right here,

this ground-level apartment, the patio.

That's basically the same as it was,
and my brother and I would play out here.

And Sister Cathy's apartment
is directly through that partition,

which was not there at the time.
That was open walkway.

Literally ten steps from my uncle's door.

Her car was parked right there
in the opening of that driveway.

As a matter of fact, if you...
When you pull the...

The first newspaper clipping
that announced this,

when they show where her car was parked,

you actually will see my uncle's apartment
in the same newspaper clipping.

It literally is just a sprint.

Done. You know what I mean? It's...
Yeah. And it was dark.

It was like 8:30 or so.
Yeah.

We have Billy Schmidt living
in the end apartment here,

right near Sister Cathy.

And we have Edgar Davidson trolling

to pick young girls
at Rock Glen Middle School.

And police were looking for a white man
with dark hair driving a red sports car

because he was trying to pick up
the young girls leaving the middle school

to get them to go for rides
in the car with him.

So, they were certainly
in the same geographical area here.

Hello.
Hey, it's me.

Yeah.
So, I've got you on speaker.

Can you talk?
Okay.

So, we were just talking about, um...

you know, how this has always been,
like, a subject in our family,

like, an unspoken subject?

Uh-huh.

So, I always kind of felt that...

one or two of our family members
might have had something to do with it.

Can you elaborate then
on why you feel that way?

Well, because my husband,
your father, never, ever was a drinker.

And then, one day, all of a sudden,
he decided he was gonna be a drinker.

So, you think he started drinking
because he knew about that murder,

is that what you're saying?

Yeah. I think it...
It weighed on his conscience.

And I think your Uncle Bill
called your father to come help him.

And he went and he helped him.

And I think
that's where the blood came from.

Mm-hm.

And I think we just never talked about it
because it was better not to know.

All right.
I'll talk to you later.

All right. Bye.
Bye.

You should talk to my mother.

I mean, you heard what she said.

They're not gonna care. Come on.

Come on. They're not gonna care.

Come on. They're not gonna care. Come on.

Come on. You can get up here. Come on.

I have five Yorkies.

Hey, hey, no, no.

The other one's an English Spangler
and the other one is a dachshund.

And the other one is a boxer.

Hey.

Shh, shh.

Quiet. Quiet.

I don't raise a hand to them.

The most I say is "be quiet"
and "shut up."

No.

Uh-uh. Uh-uh.

No. No.

And my parrot is a yellow-nape.

She's 40 years old.

She has a good personality,
but she doesn't like everybody.

She'll pretend she does.

She only likes one person and that's me.

She hates my husband.

She'll chase him 50 miles
just to get a little nibble.

Now, I have more pictures,
but I have no idea where they are.

My daughter, Sharon,
about two years old, two and a half.

And then that was my son Brian
when he was 12, 13, 14 months old.

Ronald Schmidt, my ex-husband that
I was married to for 24 and a half years,

my children's father.

There's me with Sharon
at the Schmidt house on Monumental Avenue.

See, I've got a lot of pictures here
of the Schmidt household,

you can see they're missing.

Now, here's a picture of Bill.

The only picture... that I know of.

William Charles Schmidt.

Shh!

Known as Billy.

Back then,
he was the best friend I ever had.

He was like a knight in shining armor
for me.

Kind, gentle soul, but strange.

He had very weird ways.

After I had my daughter,
he always came home for lunch,

and he would say, "Come on, girl.
Let's get back in shape."

And we'd go in the living room
and he'd turn on the stereo

and we do the twist for half an hour.

And he'd say, "You're not gonna get
in shape just sitting there.

You just had a baby. Let's twist."

I married his brother,
Ronald Francis Schmidt.

We met when we were like 11 years old,
and we got married at 16.

My father-in-law, he didn't think
I was good enough for his family.

They never liked me.

They didn't care too much for Bill either
because of his lifestyle.

He was gay.

Back then, we're talking early '60s,

that was not talked about,
it was hush-hush.

It was kept in the closet.

That whole environment
really messed him up.

Billy couldn't stand it anymore.

He went and got an apartment.

Bill used to talk
about the nun across the hall

saying that she was pretty,
that she was nice.

I met her one time, he introduced her.

He said, "This is my neighbor,
Sister Catherine."

I find it very coincidental that she lived
across the hall from my brother-in-law

and was found very close
to the family home.

Not only was it behind the home,

it was behind the family business,
by the railroad tracks

between the business and the house.

There was all these woods in between.

Bill definitely knew the area.

Well, one night,
my husband worked the night shift.

And when he came home,
he had blood on him.

Blood on his hands, blood on his shirt.

I asked him,
"Ronnie, where you been?"

He said, "Don't worry about it."

And I kept badgering him,
"Where have you been?"

He said, "I was in a bar fight."

I knew he wasn't,
he didn't have a scratch on him.

He just had blood on his hands,
his forearms, and his shirt.

So, I knew he'd been into something,
but it wasn't a fight.

He was, like, the perfect dad,
the perfect husband.

After the nun died, everything changed.

Started drinking, doing drugs,
acting crazy.

It changed our lives.

Just like with Bill.

Bill became a hermit.

He did not go to work anymore.

Stayed in the house,
didn't drive his car...

didn't see any family or friends...

started...

talking about the woman in the attic.

After the nun was murdered,
he was obsessed with it.

He'd talk about it all the time.

He would say,
"Can you believe somebody killed her?

Can you believe where they found her?"

I mean, he would just go on
and on and on and on.

This guy named Skippy
was a friend of my brother-in-law Bill's.

I was introduced to him as Skippy,
never another name.

I have no idea
what his first or last name was.

Only thing I know about is

I think they started out as friends
and I think they ended up as lovers.

The two of them, this guy named Skippy
and my brother-in-law Bill,

were obsessed with the Catholic Church,
but I don't know why.

Bill wasn't Catholic.

Him and Skippy dressed up
and went parading down Baltimore Street,

one dressed as a priest,
one dressed us a nun, a pregnant nun.

I used to work for Western Electric
on Broening Highway,

and I worked the night shift.
I worked 4:30 to 1.

Well, this one particular night,
and it was wintertime,

came through the tunnel
and I'd seen headlights behind me,

but I didn't think anything about it.

And this car pulled up alongside of me
that had been following me,

and I just had the feeling
that somebody was staring at me.

So, I glanced over.

And when I did...

it was this blue older station wagon
with this nun driving it,

only it wasn't a nun at all.

It was somebody with a big old mustache
grinning from ear to ear at me.

So, when that light turned green,
I took off.

I went through red lights and everything.

When I got down to Ritchie Highway
and Mountain Road

where they come together,
that car was right on my bumper.

So, I took off in front of traffic

and that person in that station wagon
got stuck...

and I was hysterical.

I pulled into my driveway,
ran into my house.

My babysitter was in there, and I
started screaming, "Call the police!"

And to this day, I believe it was Skippy.

Definitely was a man.

I don't know many women that have
big thick mustaches, but Skippy did.

I couldn't see enough of the face
to say for sure,

but I know it wasn't Bill.

That guy Skippy.
Maybe he thought I knew something.

Maybe he thought I knew too much.

I don't know nothing.

It got so bad, Bill had to move back home
to get away from that apartment.

He would drink,
take pills, stay up all day,

walk the floors all night
and talk about the woman in the attic.

And that's how I discovered
it was up there,

because I wanted to prove to him
there's no woman in the attic.

And I went up there and I go,
"What woman are you talking about?"

He goes, "Don't you see her?"

And it was on a mannequin.

And it was blue with a white band.

It was a nun's habit.

He'd say she was after him...

she was chasing him,
she would talk to him.

The whole thing, it was very bizarre.

Everything about it.

Once the murder happened,
he became a very tortured soul.

I think he couldn't live
with his conscience anymore.

After the nun was murdered,

I'd say probably maybe three,
four, or five months later,

he tried to commit suicide.

Numerous times, like five.

And each time he would try it,
he'd call me up.

His sixth and final time
that he tried it, he succeeded.

He did call me, but he called to tell me,

"Goodbye.
I wanted to tell you that I love you.

And I can't deal with...
I can't deal with this no more."

And I go, "What are you talking about?"
And he hung up.

He had taken 49 sleeping pills
and drank booze.

He was dead.

He was 42 years old.

He knew something.

That secret went to the grave with him.

I don't know about Skippy.

I couldn't tell you where he is
or if he's dead or not, don't know.

Skippy sort of, like, just disappeared.

Nobody seen or heard from Skippy anymore.

It was like everybody
went their separate ways.

Okay.

I went crazy with these little papers.
Anyway...

Jane Doe was allegedly taken to the dump

and saw Cathy's body.

She was taken by Joseph Maskell.

And when she got there,

she saw Sister Cathy's body
and he leaned over to her and said,

"This is what happens
when you say bad things about people."

There's somebody named Bob
in this whole mix,

according to Jane Doe,
that is also significant...

in Cathy's murder.

Okay?

I think Jane is the key...
Yeah.

...to solving the whole thing.
Absolutely.

Because if you accept her memories
as valid,

and, initially, I was unsure,
but I'm beginning to come around

to thinking that they are.

With no disrespect for her,

I'm just a very data-driven,
proof-driven sort of person.

I see no reason for her to subject herself
to this public stress and humiliation...

if it's not the truth.

There's no sense that this is something
that she enjoys or that she wants to do.

She doesn't reach out, she doesn't post
about being upset or needing support.

My feeling is she's very guarded,

but she's very determined
to work through this step-by-step

with her support system around her.

Mike's love for me held me
from totally falling into the abyss.

I had that feeling of protection.

He believed in me, he trusted me,
he knew the kind of person I was.

I'll let you each take a turn,
but if you had to sort of...

What's the word?
Like, the secret to a 33-year marriage...

what would you say, Mom?

I'll let him start.

Oh, okay. Dad.
We survived.

Yeah.

Back then, even back then,

as big of a knucklehead as I was,
and I didn't know shit from Shinola,

I knew your mother was a strong woman
and I wanted to spend my life with her.

I knew that.

I knew it. I could tell.

I could tell she was just different.

I was like,
"I ain't letting this relationship die."

Each time there was a major ordeal,
everything would fall on the ground,

and I would just think,
"What in the world would I do if he died?"

My husband, Mike,
swallowed a lot of anger.

There was a lot of anger
that he wanted to express.

In those 21 hours of depositions,
it was with him sitting there.

He could not open his mouth
or he would have to leave the room.

That's swallowing an awful lot
of what he was hearing

and what they were saying to me.

Being in a courtroom
and seeing me go through that,

not being able to be up there with me,

there was no way he could deal with it,
there was nothing he would do,

'cause he wasn't gonna go against
my wishes and he wasn't gonna hurt me

by doing something
that would scare me more.

So, he swallowed it and he swallowed it.

And he ended up with esophageal cancer.

"Who is this man
who sits before me scared and real?

Who is this man
who feels like a fish out of water,

unable to help another
for lack of physical strength?

Build something, move something,
re-create, or better yet create something.

This man is the strongest man I know."

"He was my eyes when I couldn't see.
He was my legs when I couldn't walk.

He was my protective shield
when I was at my most vulnerable.

He was my fist
when I didn't even know I had hands.

He believed I was good
when everything in me screamed 'harlot.'

This man, Mike, is my soul mate."

"The man I love through sickness,
though richer or poorer, forever."

When my husband died, I was terrified,
because now I didn't have my protector.

I don't know where I would have ended up
if my husband hadn't come into my life.

He was my rock.

We've talked to a lot of people
who have shared with us

that Maskell moved in a really
sleazy group of men in Baltimore.

It's very possible
that in referring to someone, Brother Bob,

that could have been anybody.

It could have been Edgar Davidson.
It could have been Billy Schmidt.

It could have been a police officer,
another priest.

This network that he had
of people that had something to lose

would have supported him
and covered for him

because he was protecting them,
they were protecting him.

Who knows how far this went?

We're here.

How are you, Mare?
I'm good.

Good. Real good, Gemma.
Thank you for doing this.

Oh, no problem.
Yeah.

Okay, let's take a look
as we go here.

And it actually is a colored rhinestone.

So, it's not a peridot.

The stone is a green glass,

but to give it some brightness
they put a little foil backing.

These foil backs kind of died out
by the '70s.

I mean, it's not a high-selling stone.

People only buy this color
because of it being an August birthstone.

This kind of almost looks handmade.

I don't know if it's designed like that
or got bent,

you know, in terms of the one going up
and the one going down.

And then this piece
is an old-style pendant thing

that I don't even think
they've made in 30 years.

And maybe the guy just had these parts
lying around and said,

"Hey, I can put this together for you,"
and just did it real quick.

I think the most important things
that I took away from the gemologist was,

first of all,
the materials that went into it.

There were quite a few different kinds
of metal were typical

of what was being used in the '60s
for jewelry,

and that it was not
an expensive piece of jewelry.

He gave an estimate of about ten to $15.

And probably in the '60s,

that would have been a lot of money
on a teacher's salary.

So, the fact that it was custom-made,

I can see her at a counter with a jeweler

talking about
what she would like it to mean.

Cathy was the kind of person that
nothing was too small to not have meaning.

She was very creative,

very purposeful in her words,
in her poetry, in her teaching.

So, that, to me,

something that she could give someone else
would have to have meaning.

If only we could find
someone in the family

who could identify the necklace,

it would be a whole new avenue
for us to explore

and hopefully find some answers.

When the case was reopened
in the '90s,

I was doing the dishes one night
watching the six o'clock news,

and it came on
that they reopened the case.

On November 7, 1969,

Cathy Cesnik was abducted
while getting out of her car

at her apartment complex
where she lived in Catonsville.

She turned up murdered
in a field in Lansdowne.

I was flooded
with childhood memories.

Like the time when my father
came home very inebriated

and he was yelling at my mother saying,
"Do you wanna know why I drink?

Because I killed a woman.
We put her behind the shop."

I used to beg my father
before my father died

and I would just ask him
over and over and over again,

and the only answer
I could ever get from my father was,

"Shar, just leave it alone.

It's just one of those things,
you should just leave it alone."

He never said, "Oh, my God.
You're so ridiculous. How... "

He didn't do that.

After my brother's death,
Abbie sent me my brother's interview.

And I never knew
until I listened to that interview

that this subject plagued my brother.

I never knew it.

We never, ever once discussed it.

Did you hear the interview?
You've heard it?

So, you hear
how it plagued my brother also.

I had no idea.

Hello.
Brian?

Who's this?

My name's Alan Horn.

You don't know me,
but your mother suggested that I call you.

I'm an armchair researcher

that's working
on this Sister Cathy Cesnik story.

It's about time.

Okay. Well, I could close this case.

If I just explained a few things,

but I'm gonna tell you, I was there,
except for her murder.

Can that help you any?

Oh, absolutely.

I mean, we know that
your Uncle Billy lived across the hall,

we know your Uncle Bob...
Look. No, stop, stop, stop.

Go ahead.

I'm gonna tell you
exactly where we're at.

Okay.
Yes,

Uncle Billy lived across the hall.

It was like, sort of walked...
Like, to the right.

And I was in her apartment
and my Uncle Bill was there.

My Uncle Bill sent me
back to his apartment.

And the way I can picture in my memory is,
I was there for quite a while, and...

I went looking for my uncle,
but when I found my uncle,

he rushed me back to the apartment
and shut her door.

What I can tell you is...

my Uncle Bill called a guy named Skippy.
Black hair, mustache.

He came.
They both went over to her apartment.

They came back with what looked like
something rolled up, a rug or a blanket.

It was rolled up, okay?

Mm-hm.

They said, "We gotta load this
in the car, we'll be right back."

Then my Uncle Bill and Skippy
went and picked up my Uncle Bobby.

And my Uncle Bobby took me with a .22

over there behind my grandma's place,

behind the big house
back there in the woods.

And while Bobby was shooting the gun
in the woods to keep me occupied...

I'm watching them two
load this out of the trunk.

And I kept saying to Uncle Bobby,
"Why don't they just throw that in here?"

'Cause we were standing there
shooting at a trash pile.

What was she wrapped in?
Do you remember?

It looked like a big blanket
or something.

It was white, if I'm not mistaken.
White or beige.

See, look, I was a kid

and I don't remember no one
getting murdered or nothing.

Mm-hm.
But then I grew up.

And as I grew up,
I realized that my Uncle Bill did it,

Skippy covered it up,
and Uncle Bobby kept me occupied.

My Uncle Bill said if I told anybody,

he would beat me to death
and he would hurt me bad,

and I was not to ever tell anybody
anything or I would be killed.

Those are memories that are
burned in my brain that I can't...

I can't point the finger and blame nobody.

I can just tell you what I saw,
how I saw it, who I saw it with,

and when it happened, period.

Nobody wanted to listen, you know, so...

Look, this is all a child's memory
that's in an old man's mind.

I'm just trying to tell you that.

That's the best I can give you.

I had no idea.

I had no idea.

And, of course, I learned that
after my brother's death, so, that, to me,

was pretty hard to take.

It still is.

I guess knowing
that it bothered my brother

to the point that it did,
and he didn't say anything...

and I only learned it after his death,
it just...

To me, it just reiterates
that he was afraid.

Okay. Place on something,
something, bake for ten to 15 minutes.

I think it'll be okay.
Checking.

This is why I use a toaster oven.

Oh, my goodness.

What is in there?

What's doing that?
What's smoking like that?

Okay. Where's the fan?

Fan.

Oh, that doesn't work. Shoot.

Less than a month ago,
I got an e-mail from a woman.

"Hi, Gemma.

I saw your name in the article
regarding Sister Cathy Cesnik's murder.

Her sister Marilyn is my best friend.

I know how hard it has been for her
all these years

with not having closure
regarding her sister's murder.

Please let me know if you would be open
to speaking with her

regarding the research
your group has done."

I was just shocked.

The mother of the family had just died,
her name is Ann Cesnik.

And there are three girls.

Marilyn... is taking her time,

and her friend said
that she will communicate with me.

She has my e-mail address
and my phone number.

My feeling is that she will know
who that gift was for,

maybe if the color green
meant something to them.

So, I hope that that's a nugget
of information that will be new for us,

and that she will contact me when it...

When she feels comfortable with it,
probably after the holidays.

That's probably my call.

Hello?

Hi, Gemma?

Hi. Is it Marilyn?

I'm good. How are you?

Mm-hm.

No, no, that's okay. You know what?

I... I totally understand.

That's okay. Just let it go.

Just do... Just be all over the place.

I have to be honest with you,
I was nervous...

But I thought, "Well, Marilyn's
probably more nervous than I am."

I'm so nervous.

Oh.

I feel so blessed that you even asked
if you could call me.

I mean, I'm so honored,

and I feel really emotional
because you sound like Cathy.

You sound like your sister.

And her voice meant so much to me
because of her...

She's the reason I became a teacher.

I... I get that.

Yeah. Mm-hm.

Yeah, and you know...

Oh, my goodness.

But do you think that...?

Really?

Yeah. I don't have my calendar
in front of me,

but I think I can work that out.

You said you're coming on March ele...

Marilyn, I can't wait
to get together with you.

You're so welcome, sweetie.
All right. I'll talk to you soon.

Bye.
Bye.

Hmm.

I have heard a lot of indirect stuff
about Edgar and Bill

from numerous sources.

But it's always been
the kind of anecdotal,

to use the term, "scuttlebutt"
that I don't always trust as a reporter.

But I don't necessarily discount them.

If those suspects were involved,

I believe it's undoubtedly
as a flunky gofer.

"Go get us a coffee.
Go take care of this ugly chore."

Very likely,
he was called after the event.

"We got a body we gotta get rid of.
Help us."

"I'll handle that for you, Father.
You're a wonderful guy."

And off we go.

Going into this, we didn't know
of any suspects other than Joseph Maskell.

And we've come up with two:
Edgar Davidson and Billy Schmidt.

Both of them have families
with compelling stories

who are pretty convincing.

So, if both of those stories are true,

then both of these men
were involved with this together.

Well, let me ask you a question.
So, you've spoken to Debra?

Uh-uh. We call her Debbie.
Debbie.

Does her story and my story
sound similar to you?

It's two nieces saying,
"My uncle was involved."

You know, I mean, because, honestly,
you don't know me from Adam.

I could be making this up, and it's hard
to keep your stories straight

if you're making something up,
so, I get it, you know.

But my story is always gonna be the same.
It's the same no matter what.

Debra Yohn, when I spoke to her,

she is as convinced that her uncle did it
as I am that my uncle did it.

But the weird thing is,
the story is, like, the same.

She was telling me
that her uncle had a bloody shirt

and claimed that he had a fistfight
with his boss.

And I'm like, "My father told my mother

that he had a fistfight in a bar,
that's why his shirt was bloody."

It's just like, "Hmm."

If you have two people conspiring
and they're making up their story...

I mean, that's where my mind went
when we were talking about it.

Maybe they know each other,
maybe they did it together. I don't know.

I believe my aunt
because I know how Ed is.

You didn't know if he was gonna be
the good guy or the bad guy.

There was no rhyme nor reason
for any of the changes in behavior.

It's just the slightest thing...

could make him change,
almost into another person.

I don't think he did it alone,
but he was part of it.

It does not lessen my belief
that my uncle did it, or took part in it.

I should say that,
'cause it's almost seeming

like maybe there was more
than one person involved now.

I didn't get the feeling that, "Oh, okay.

Well, your uncle must've done it
and my uncle didn't." Not at all.

I think we both feel
just as strongly about it.

I don't know Edgar
and I never heard that name,

and I've seen his picture
and it doesn't look familiar to me.

I've never seen him before.

The not knowing, I think,
is harder than the knowing.

Billy, he knew something.

That secret went to the grave with him.

This stuff in your mind,
it wears you down over the years.

It makes you feel really, really old,
because you're carrying something,

and you're carrying it all the time.

Real people have been hurt,
real people have died.

This is what happened.

If we collect
all this information,

what do we do with it?

How do we link these people together?

How do we link Maskell to our perp

if we think Maskell may have sent him
to murder Cathy that night?

We've had to negotiate,
I think, a very delicate minefield.

Father Maskell's dead in the coffin.

Billy Schmidt, he's dead now, too.

But this whole issue of Edgar,

we really shied away from this
because the guy is living.

If he harmed other people,
he's certainly capable of harming us.

Maybe watching too much TV,

it seems like when you've got
all these clues

and you got, you know, people
intimately related with him

who says, "I think he killed him,"
and they did this and that,

that the police will swoop in
and arrest him,

but I guess there's still
a burden of proof.

Talking to him face-to-face
would be productive in one way or another.

I think you would either see somebody
who is honest and wants to tell the truth

or somebody who will play games,
and that would be obvious, too.

Mm-hm.

The best way to approach him
would be to build up some trust,

and to ask him
if he would talk about what he knew.

And I think, at first,
he would probably toy with you,

but I think he would start talking.

And then he would enjoy talking.

And the more you get to know him,
the more information he'll give you

before he realizes he's hung himself.

Kind of reminds me of a cat that plays
with a mouse before it kills it.

There's a little bit of an element of fun
and teasing and enjoyment...

before he strikes.