For Your Inner Forensic Psychologist: Psychopedia

Hey, listeners. We made it. It's our final week of sharing our favorite true crime episodes of 2025, and we saved something truly gripping for our last act. This episode comes from Psychopedia, hosted by investigator Slater. Slater dives into the minds behind crimes with incredible attention to detail. And we love that she sprinkles pop quizzes throughout to keep us all on our toes. The case today is the 1980 murder of Sister Margaret Ann Paul inside a hospital chapel. There were elements of her murder that pointed to satanic ritual, and the investigation raised a lot of questions around how far institutions will go to protect their own. This story is intense, it's detailed, and it's the perfect way to close out our special series. Thanks for hanging out with us for Takeover Month. I hope it inspired you to add a few new voices to your true crime roster. We'll see you back here next month with new episodes and a new host. Everything's coming together in the new year. We can't wait to share it all with you. Stay tuned, and until then, here's Psychopedia. All right, welcome back to another episode of the Psychopedia podcast. I am your host, investigator Slater, and it's just me today in the studio, with the exception of my wonderful sound engineer, Will, who's here, who will probably participate in the pop quizzes. Otherwise, it's just little old me today, so I'm going to keep the intro short so we can dive into the case, because the case is a doozy. There's a lot of moving parts, there's a lot of information, and it kind of hits a personal note for me. Because of the topic, which you'll understand once I get going, professionally, this is largely what I'm involved in investigating. So while it's a little bit of an older case with some recent discoveries that were made, this is what I more or less spend my life doing professionally. So it's an important case. I'm excited to cover it with you guys. I have two teas in front of me right now. I am well caffeinated, even though I am off coffee. I went to pick up a hot tea with steamed oat milk before I came to record because my throat's a little bit funky, which I hope you can see. I hope you guys are not picking up on. And I went through the drive-thru, I drove away, and they gave me the wrong drink. It was like super sweet, sugary. I had a toothache like almost immediately. So I went back and I decided to go inside, not to complain. I would never do that. I just wanted the correct drink. I wanted the one I like. So while I'm talking to the barista, I learned like just how many different ways you can get down with tea. So many ways you can get freaky with it. Steamed milk, flavors. The woman behind me told me to add lavender. Like, what? My interest in tea has officially been aroused. So any drink suggestions out there now that I bat for that team, let me know. So the case that we're doing today officially wraps up Sadistic September here at Psychopedia. I know it was a tough month. I really apologize for that. Sadistic cases are obviously by nature going to be horrible. We explored all different types of tea. Unfortunately, there are many flavors of the sort. And I really just kind of wanted you guys to cut your teeth and to get ready for spooky season because that is around the corner. And next week officially kicks off Spookopedia. So if Sadistic September was like a little too heavy for you, a little too much, Spookopedia is going to offer you like a different type of vibe. It's still going to be true crime and it's still going to be horrific and it's still going to be detailed and gory and fascinating, right? Our exploration of the psychology. The psychology is going to bring us deep, but every case is going to be of the spooky nature. So brace yourselves. I want to give propers to some new patrons and to encourage everybody to join me over on patreon.com slash psychopedia pod, where it's a lot more of what you hopefully already know and love over here on the main channel. Extra true crime content, behind the scenes content. Be my guest unhinged, which is an opportunity for you guys to join me to be my guest co-host on a Patreon episode. We revisit past cases. We shoot the shit. We talk crime. We really talk a lot of things. I've grown really, really close to the patrons in the recent past. I'm very happy about. And I really would love to grow the family. So again, it's patreon.com slash psychopedia pod. We offer two tiers, a $5 tier, which is called Little Freaks and a $10 tier, which is called Semen Demons. And I would be so grateful for any support that you can provide. If not, and you just want to continue listening on the public feed, I'm so happy to have you here. With all of my heart, I thank you. That said, I do want to give some propers to the patrons because, man, you guys, you guys are the realest of the real. It's incredible. It's incredible how much you guys pick up on in all these episodes and the types of conversations we have over there that like really sit with me. It's really very engaging, as are your names. So here's what I got for you this week. Or here's what you have for me this week. We have Zesty Sassy Bitch, which is definitely somebody I feel. Like I could hang out with Luna Blank, Sarah Crank, Shelly H. AKA Welly Bob's, Grow From the Dirt They Left You In, like mic drop, Rolanda, Kyle Panter, and I'm going to just pick one more, Lucid Babe. There's a lot more, thankfully, but I don't want to keep everybody here forever. Thank you to everybody who signed up. Thank you to everybody who's considering it. Thank you to everybody who's been with me since. Or those who are starting with me today. If it is your first time here, welcome. If it is your hundred and whatever time here, welcome home, freak. Your queen of darkness is here to serve you today and always. With that said, let me serve you starting now. At exactly 5 a.m. on April 5th, 1980, Sister Margaret Ann Paul's alarm shattered the stillness of the convent at Mercy Hospital in Toledo, Ohio, where she lived. Though her home was in the city, she was still there. Though her home was within the hospital grounds, her work took place in the chapels, a sacred space that she tended to daily. It was Holy Saturday, the day before Easter, and the eve of her 72nd birthday. So, unlike most mornings, there would be no early mass in either of the hospital's two chapels, as the first service wouldn't begin until late afternoon, which gave Sister Margaret Ann a rare chance to linger in bed just a tad bit longer than usual. Her typical morning ritual involved metempoise. There was meticulous care of the chapels and the adjacent sacristies, which are the rooms where priests' vestments were laid out, gold-plated chalices and crucifix polished, altar linens smoothed, and candle wicks trimmed. Basically, as I've learned, sacristies are just the rooms where all of the stuff for services are kept and where the priests get ready before services. But on this Holy Saturday, the sister's duties were simpler, yet no less sacred. She was just to strip the altars of all decorations. To reflect the somberness of the day and the mourning of Christians everywhere. Rising quietly at 5.30 a.m., which apparently was sleeping in for her, Sister Margaret Ann reached for her gray-rimmed glasses, washed up, and slipped into the Sisters of Mercy uniform, which was a blue sleeveless jumper over a white blouse with a black veil tucked over her white hair. A uniform that she'd worn proudly nearly her entire life. Sister Margaret Ann then walked to the nun's dining area. She went down the hall and ordered her usual breakfast: a grapefruit, raisin bran, and coffee. Then, at approximately 6:45 a.m., Sister Margaret Ann finished her meal, announced that it was time to "fix up the chapel," and left the dining room with a smile. When she entered St. Joseph Chapel inside Mercy Hospital, she proudly and humbly got to work. This is where she felt safe. This is where she belonged. This is also where she didn't hear it. The subtle scrape of a shoe, the faint inhalation behind her, didn't sense the presence that had crept into the sacred space like a shadow folding itself around her back, patient and waiting. A presence that would turn a familiar morning into her last one on earth. Without warning, the world tilted, and the chapel that had always been Sister Margaret Ann's sanctuary became something else entirely. It became hell. Because as Sister Margaret Ann stood on her tiptoes to reach a shelf in one of the cabinets, a cloth suddenly wrapped tightly around her neck. So tightly that the two small hyoid bones in her neck snapped in half. The cloth around her neck was so tight and so suffocating that her silver crucifix pressed into her skin, leaving a shallow indentation. In an instant, Sister Margaret Ann's frail body went limp. Her attacker loomed over her, methodical and silent, removing the cloth from her neck. From the sacristy cabinet, he then retrieved a crucifix as well as a large white linen altar cloth, unfolding it with deliberate care before draping it over his victim's motionless body, folded just once like a dark, ceremonial veil. Next, the assailant placed the crucifix on her neck, and then wrapped it around her neck. The assailant placed the crucifix upside down on Sister Margaret Ann's still-beating heart while whispering some sort of unholy prayer. He reached into a duffel bag that he'd brought with him and removed a silver sword-shaped letter opener with U.S. Capitol emblems on the handle, which he then used to plunge into Sister Margaret Ann's chest just above her collarbone nine times. The wounds he inflicted made an outline around the inverted crucifix that he'd placed on her chest so that the sign of the cross was quite literally carved into her flesh. The attacker then removed a gold-plated chalice in which he collected the nun's blood. Realizing that her body was no longer generously bleeding out since now her heart had stopped beating, the attacker flew into a rage and proceeded to stab Sister Margaret Ann in the left side of her chest, neck, and face a total of 22 times. Then he took the handle of the letter opener and pressed it against the chest and pressed it against the nun's forehead while saying a final prayer. The sacrifice was complete. Almost. Because the killer wasn't finished. One final, unspeakably horrific act awaited. Something so grotesque, so utterly depraved that when I finally tell you what it is, it will haunt you every single time you think of this case. And it will be revealed. But not yet. Before we talk about it, before we descend into that darkness, we have to start at the beginning to know exactly what we're in store for. Because the perpetrator of this heinous murder was not some masked bandit or psychotic escaped hospital patient. The killer was unbelievably a priest. So, with that, today we are talking about the murder of Sister Margaret Ann Paul as well as satanic ritual abuse, child abuse, sexual assault, human sacrifice, institutional cover-up within the Catholic Church, and a decades-long investigation filled with chaos and corruption. Because this is the case of the holy horror, faith betrayed. Margaret Ann Paul was born April 6, 1908, in a wood-framed farmhouse near the village of Edgerton, Ohio. She was raised by her parents, Frank and Catherine Paul, on 200 acres of farmland, alongside eight siblings near the St. Joseph River, not far from the Indiana border. According to her younger sister, Catherine, they, quote, grew up a lot like the Amish live now, meaning they lacked indoor plumbing and electricity and relied upon heat from an iron stove that was stoked with wood. They also grew wheat and corn and raised chickens, cows, and horses. On school days, the nine children would all rise before daybreak to manage their chores before walking on the street. A mile and a half to a red one-room schoolhouse where they would learn basic subjects as well as Bible verses. Margaret Ann was a devout Roman Catholic from the start. She had a deep-seated belief in God and knew from early childhood that someday she would become a nun. So on September 24, 1927, when Margaret Ann was just 19 years old, her parents and younger sisters climbed into their Buick and drove 90 miles east to Our Lady of the Pond, which was a convent and retreat center set on 63 wooded acres atop a hill just south of Fremont, Ohio. This is where Margaret Ann went on to profess her vows and officially join the Sisters of Mercy, which is a religious order founded in Dublin, Ireland in 1831 by a woman named Catherine Macaulay. I actually spent a lot of time digging into this order a few years back, just trying to understand how it operated, how the sisters lived, and just the pressures and hierarchies that shaped their daily existence. I wanted the full picture when I was investigating cases, you know, involving the Catholic Church. And the full picture meaning like the kind that leaves absolutely nothing hidden so that when I dove into cases similar to the one that we're covering today in order to investigate cases of child sexual abuse, I'd have the full picture of all the players and the organizational, you know, hierarchy. So the Sisters of Mercy was founded to serve the poor, sick, and uneducated, with a special focus on helping women and children. Members lived in disciplined, communal environments, took vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and spent their entire days teaching, nursing, and running charitable institutions. Really, really selfless, beautiful work. And while their work shaped countless communities, to be sure, life inside the order was very, very strict and highly regulated. A world that profoundly influenced women like Margaret Ann. But she was fully invested, heart and soul from day one. In fact, when her family returned to Edgerton after dropping her off at the convent, her sisters found that Margaret Ann had already left all of her belongings to them, neatly arranged and labeled in her room. Because Margaret Ann was so certain that she'd chosen to take a vow of poverty and that she would never want to not continue down that path, that she had no issue with leaving behind all of her possessions. Sister Margaret Ann spent two years as an officiate, then three more years in the convent before professing her final vows. At first, she took the name Sister Annunciata and wore a ring to symbolize that she was betrothed to Jesus Christ. Her student nursing experience was at St. Rita Hospital in Lima, Ohio, a Sisters of Mercy facility that rushed to open their doors in 1918 so that it could treat victims of the influenza epidemic in Ohio, which was, I mean, a global disaster that killed more than 20 million people worldwide, including Edward Cullen from Twilight. That was, that was a joke. Will just looked utterly appalled that I brought in Twilight. Sister Margaret Ann was known for her intelligence, reliability, and leadership, which helped her rise very quickly through the ranks. She started as floor supervisor at St. Rita's in Lima in 1933. Then moved to Mercy Hospital in Toledo as assistant superintendent of nurses. I cannot imagine a more selfless way to go in life. You know, these Sisters of Mercy who serve not just their God, but also people and humanity by nursing. It really sounds like just such a wholesome path to take. After a year of teaching science at Our Lady of Mercy High School in Cincinnati, man, she really did it all. She became superintendent of nurses at Mercy Hospital, Toledo, in 1937. She also served in Lansing, Michigan before returning to Lima in 1940. During World War II, Sister Margaret Ann worked at Mercy Hospital in Tiffin, Ohio, first as floor supervisor and then as administrator. In 1959, she took charge of St. Charles Hospital in Toledo, which was one of the city's largest medical centers. Sister Margaret Ann, standing at just 5 feet 2 inches tall and 135 pounds, was a woman unafraid to speak her mind and share her opinions. She was a hard worker and even as she aged, she continued to serve her God and community. In 1971, at age 63, Sister Margaret Ann returned to Mercy Hospital in Toledo, taking a less stressful position by that point in pastoral care and as sacristan, which was the person responsible for making preparations for Mass in the hospital's chapel. Mercy Hospital, where she worked, rose seven stories of beige brick and stone and was run by the Sisters of Mercy. At the top floor of Mercy Hospital in 1980 was a convent that housed 17 Sisters of Mercy, including Sister Margaret Ann Poole. So she lived and she worked inside that hospital. The space where she lived was secluded, serene, and just a stark contrast to the chaos below, where the nuns all worked and trained as nurses and offered both medical care and spiritual care. Each Sister had a modest room on the seventh floor as well, including just a bed, nightstand, dresser, and closet, and all of the walls, which were painted a pale green, were adorned with a single, solemn wooden crucifix. As her hearing gradually declined over the decade, making conversation increasingly difficult, Sister Margaret Ann poured herself even more into caring for the chapel. So instead of, like, withdrawing from her responsibilities, I know a lot of people who have been in the chapel who have begun to lose their hearing as they've gotten older, and they tend to almost withdraw, pull back, right? They're absent from conversations, which is really sad. They're just, they're not as aware of their surroundings as they're used to, so they retreat. She kind of sort of did the opposite as she was losing her hearing and becoming more sort of in her own head, for lack of a better way of putting it. She just threw herself more into her work and serving her God. She kept that chapel absolutely immaculate and ready for services and was always available to assist the priests in ministering to anyone seeking a moment of connection with God within those hospital walls. So, knowing what we know about this beautiful human being, what possible motive could there have been for anyone to torment, degrade, and ritualistically murder her? Well, let's go back now to the ill-fated morning of April 5th, 1980, the day on which Sister Margaret Ann was bruised brutally slaughtered. A different nun named Sister Madeline Marie, who was a soft-spoken colleague of Sister Margaret Ann, also woke up later than usual that day since, again, it was Holy Saturday. By 7 a.m., Sister Madeline Marie stepped into the elevator, leaving the seventh-floor convent behind as she descended toward the hospital's first floor. When the doors opened, she encountered Father Jerome Światecki, one of Mercy Hospital's two chaplains. That's also a Polish name. It's spelled S-W-I-A-T-E-C-K-I, and I have practiced, like you cannot believe, pronouncing that name, because obviously the way it's spelled, it looks like it should be like Swiatecki, but my understanding, and anybody who is of, you know, Polish descent or lives in, you know, if you want to correct me, I'm here for it, I believe it's pronounced Światecki. Anyway, Father Światecki stood six feet tall with a massive belly, a high forehead, and dark hair slicked straight back. He just radiated warmth. He was always joking around and was willing to speak to anyone who crossed his path. Staff and patients alike just flocked to him. I've seen pictures of him, and he does. He just looks very jolly, very welcoming. In stark contrast was the other chaplain, Father Gerald Robinson. Robinson was small, aloof, and very often detached, purposely avoiding contact. He was very kind to patients and their families while keeping to the edges of hospital life. Where Father Światecki invited conversation, Father Robinson avoided it. So after finishing her breakfast and chatting with the jovial Father Światecki, Sister Madeline Marie excused herself and headed to the St. Joseph's Chapel to help prepare for Easter services the following day. When she got to the chapel, she went to enter the sacristy, which was an 11-foot-wide by 17-foot room where priests would prepare for services and, as I said, where the religious objects are kept. But the door to the sacristy was locked, which was very odd. So Sister Madeline Marie took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. Never in a million years expecting to be confronted with the absolute horror show that now laid before her. The room was dark, so she initially thought that the body on the ground was a CPR doll, since she was in a hospital, after all. But of course, the body was no mannequin. Rather, it belonged to her elderly sister in faith, Sister Margaret Ann. Sister Margaret Ann's arms had been laid straight out to the side, as were her legs, so that her corpse resembled the shape of a cross. Sister Margaret Ann's blue dress with her gold crucifix on its lapel had been neatly folded and placed on her chest. So we have a little bit of staging going on here. Her girdle, underwear, and stockings were slid down, and were hanging off her right ankle, exposing her entire pubic area. Sister Madeline Marie bolted from the room, her scream ripping through the air like shattering glass. After encountering another nun named Sister Phillip, Sister Madeline Marie cried out, quote, Sister Margaret Ann has been raped. Because, you see, what I didn't share with you during the intro, which was awful enough, is that Sister Margaret Ann's attacker removed her girdle and underwear and hiked her dress up above her waist, all the way to her chest, so that he could rape her with the same crucifix that he placed upside down on her chest, which was then used as a stencil for when he stabbed her nine times. And as this vile human being sexually assaulted the 71-year-old nun with the crucifix, the same one that she had lovingly polished, and placed out on the altar for services each week, we later learned that he screamed out the following, quote, here, this is your God, hanging lifeless on the cross. See what good he did for you? You spent your life serving him. Here's what I think of you and your God. Here's what I think of your church. End quote. The Toledo Police Department was called at 8 a.m. You ready for this alliteration? Officers Dan Dieter and Dave Davison responded, I love it. When they arrived, someone had pulled Sister Margaret Ann's dress back down to cover her private area, which I understand. I mean, from a crime scene perspective, you'd never want to tamper with the crime scene or potential evidence, but from a human element, I can absolutely understand why someone did that. Father Svantecki arrived at the scene as well, visibly shocked and appalled. Apparently, he just like absolutely blanched when he saw Sister Margaret Ann, and he leaned over her body to touch her forehead, with anointing oil, as he recited the sacrament of the sick and the dying, or what, as I understand, it's known as the last rites. Five more high-ranking law enforcement agents arrived, including veteran detectives and members of the sexual assault unit. The room pulsed with quiet urgency as they fanned out, notebooks open, flashlights catching every shadow, large horseman cameras snapping photos, and each officer acutely aware that answers were slipping, through the cracks with every moment that passed. Pop quiz. Which statement is true? A. Law enforcement were only permitted to take black and white photos of the crime scene because color photos were deemed too graphic to show to juries. B. One of the uniformed officers slipped on the blood, contaminating the scene so badly that it had evidentiary implications down the line. C. One of the detectives, renounced his faith on the spot and walked off the case. Will, what you got for us today? I'm going to say that it's, oh man, I really hope it's not B, but I also hope it's not C. I think it's going to be B. Um, you're incorrect, my friend. I'm so sorry. The answer is actually A, which I think is really, really interesting. It just also shows you like how different times are now. They were only permitted to use, black and white cameras because they felt if and when something goes to trial, showing colored pictures of like really gruesome crime scenes would just be too much for jurors. It's like nowadays on social media, everything's unraveling like in living color in real time. It's just wild. And then we keep scrolling like as if it's, you know, a recipe that we're looking at and taking note of and moving on to a TikTok dance. It's just, it's absolutely wild. And this wasn't terribly long ago either. When you think about what a significant change, there has been in the way we think about like protecting our peace or not. After Sister Margaret Anne's body was removed from the scene, Dr. Renata Fazekas, a deputy Lucas County coroner, performed the autopsy. In her report, Dr. Fazekas detailed numerous stab wounds and evidence of strangulation, which again, she was strangled, but that's not how she died, as well as six stab wounds to the left side of Sister Margaret Anne's face, 15 stab wounds, to the left side of her neck, and nine stab wounds to the left side of her chest. And those were the ones that were in the shape of the inverted crucifix. The murder weapon penetrated the nun's carotid artery, larynx, trachea, esophagus, vertebrae, and left lung, with the deepest penetration measuring three inches. So between the amount of stab wounds and the force and the depth of the incisions, we can officially say that what happened there was overkill. For cause of death, Dr. Fazekas' report indicated the following, quote, this 71-year-old white female, Sister Margaret Anne Paul, died of multiple, 31, stab wounds to the left side of the face, neck, and chest. There was also evidence of strangulation, end quote. So that's straight from her autopsy report. The wounds were made by an instrument with a blade at least three and a half, inches long and half an inch wide, according to the deputy coroner. And the weapon had an unusual shape to its blade. It was not just a flat blade like most knives, but it was one that had four sides and a cross-section shaped something like a diamond or a kite. And if you recall from my intro, I indicated that the attacker was using a letter opener. But at this point, according to the deputy coroner, all they could really say was it was a funky-shaped sharp object. That was the murder weapon. So Officer Dave Davison recalled that when he went around asking the nuns, the doctors, the nurses, the hospital workers, who they felt could have done this, each person independently replied, Robinson, the priest who went on to preside over Sister Margaret Anne's funeral. How could so many people almost instinctively point to the same man and a man of the cloth at that as the source of this murder? around him. He'd pass by hospital workers and churchgoers without even acknowledging their existence, let alone feeling any sort of desire or obligation to serve their spiritual needs. He's been described as a loner with an unpredictable personality in terms of whether or not he'd even smile at people who walked by, let alone serve them. According to a former neighbor of Robinson, a woman named Jackie Powell, the priest never said one single word to her or her family in more than 10 years of living next door. Not even a hello, she said. Seems strange that a man with this kind of personality, right, or at least displaying these introverted, withdrawn tendencies, would pursue a holy role that required him to constantly mediate between everyday humans with real problems. And the man upstairs. So how and why in the world would he choose, of all things, to become a priest? In other words, who the fuck was Father Jerry Robinson? Gerald John Robinson was born on April 14, 1938, in Toledo, in the Polish-American enclave of a neighborhood where Catholicism wasn't just a faith, it was a culture and a lifestyle. And for some, a set of expectations. That could weigh heavily. From the start, Gerald was steeped in ritual and routine. His mother, Mary Seja, known to friends as Balbina, was rigid, exacting, and very proud. Friends described her as cold, as someone that you did not cross lightly. Which is why, when she decided that she wanted her son to become a priest from the time he was just a boy, Gerald complied and stayed the course. And this is where we confront that familiar tension we see in so many cases on Psychopedia. The domineering mother, the child shaped to fit a vision not his own necessarily, and the pressure cooker environment where obedience, fear, and twisted devotion can warp a young mind into something very dangerous. Whether pressure, expectation, or something darker, it's impossible to ignore how much childhood environment and the relationship between mother and son can help shape personality. And I am not one who subscribes to, you know, it's all nature or it's all nurture. I truly believe that people are a combination, you know, of the two. And I think that's true for Robinson as well. But there's no denying that his environment for sure contributed to sort of who he wound up becoming as an individual. Gerald enrolled at St. Mary's High School in Orchard Lake, Michigan, a minor seminary that doubled as a cultural incubator for Polish Catholic beliefs. And he was a member of the Catholic Church. He was a member The discipline was super strict, almost monistic. As classmates recall, Gerald was serious and rule-abiding, but otherwise kind of mild and definitely not the type to question authority. And of course, why would he? Look who he grew up with. You did not question your mother. And in this case, you did not question your superiors. Yet, he also demonstrated flashes of individuality. For example, he performed in Polish language plays, sometimes in drag, occasionally daring to bend the rules of expected behavior. And at this point in his life, we start to see the first signs of duality, of conformity and rebellion coexisting side by side. Gerald was ordained in the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary Cathedral in Toledo on May 30th, 1964. And he became one of the few American-born priests fluent in Polish, a skill that would anchor him deeply in the community. He was assigned first to St. Adalbert's and then eventually to a cluster of parishes in Cushwants, where he would serve for decades. And then lastly, he was placed as a chaplain of Mercy Hospital in Toledo from 1974 to 1981. And that is where he crossed paths with Sister Margaret Ann. Parishioners remembered a man who seemed devoted to the elderly and to the sick, yet at the same time was unpredictable and emotionally inaccessible. Psychologically, this is absolutely fascinating to me. So here's a man capable of performing profound acts of care and presumably building trust within a community to some extent. He was obviously recognized as not being as awesome as the other chaplain, you know, not being friendly, but to some extent he was still building trust and serving, while simultaneously maintaining an emotional detachment that insulated him from those very people. That compartmentalization, the ability to present one person to another, the ability to present one person to another, the ability to present one persona publicly, somewhat while keeping another locked away, it offers a glimpse at the architecture of a mind capable of extraordinary deception, where care and cruelty can coexist in one form. I think it's possible, maybe, and I'm not a, you know, I'm not a mental health professional, but I think we might be seeing a bit of trauma linked dysfunction. Growing up with an incredibly domineering and possibly emotionally manipulative mother could have contributed to Gerald's inability to process empathy or regulate affect, reinforcing compartmentalized behaviors, or he's just a profoundly self-serving and malicious dickhead. Not everything has a deep-rooted psychological explanation, right? Like, sometimes people just suck. Because honestly, think about it, like, lots of people exhibit duality, baking cupcakes for the PTA meeting while secretly imagining how many ways they could hide a body in plain sight, you know, duality. But very few actually graduate to committing murder, unless you're a serial mom or a priest named Gerald Robinson, as it were. Because, you see, Gerald Robinson was much, much darker than anyone ever thought. Quirky, yes. A little antisocial, yes. But dark? I don't think anybody really, really saw it coming until a body showed up. And let me tell you, Father Gerald Robinson was seriously disturbed, certainly for what he'd done to poor Sister Margaret Ann, which we're going to revisit momentarily, but also for his involvement in something so horrifically twisted that if I didn't do what I do for a living, I'm not even sure that I'd believe it was even possible for a man of the cloth to stray so far from everything holy, everything human, everything we're told a priest or a religious should be. So strap in and brace for what I am about to tell you. I don't think you could possibly even know where I'm going. I was floored. According to a Toledo nun named Sister Mary Curtis, when she was just a small child in pigtails beginning at the age of two years old, she endured such horrific physical, sexual, and psychological abuse at the hands of many Catholic priests that she's required ongoing therapy and psychiatric care ever since. As explained by Sister Mary Curtis, she was raped by priests as part of a satanic ritual. And during these rituals, she was forced to perform dark, disturbing, violent, and humiliating acts. According to Sister Mary Curtis, men wearing dark robes killed her dog as part of a ritual, and the then forced her to drink the dog's blood. Years later, when she was finally ready, which, by the way, is her right because trauma does not follow a schedule and it takes time to process, but when she was ready, she finally decided to come forward. She called Frank DiLello, a licensed counselor and the case manager for the Toledo Catholic Diocese, whose job it is to serve as the bridge between victims of clerical sexual abuse and the church. So years after she was brought to the church, Frank DiLello, a licensed counselor, called Frank DiLello, a licensed counselor and the church. So years after this abuse happened, as an adult, as a practicing nun, she came forward. And she came forward on June 11, 2003, explaining how a man named Father Chet Warren raped and abused her as a child. Now, I did a little investigating because this is quite literally exactly what I do professionally. And I learned that from 1960 to 1963, Chet Warren worked as a school in Toledo, Ohio. Then, from 63 to 74, he worked as a pastor at St. Pius X, also in Toledo, Ohio. And it was there that Sister Mary Curtis, as a very young child, first encountered the abusive former priest. And I say former because Chet Warren was lay-sized in 2007. This just means that he was officially stripped of his priestly duties and returned to the status of a layperson, meaning no no parish, no religious authority, essentially removed from the church entirely. A man still in the world, but no longer in the church. So during a meeting with representatives from the Toledo Diocese in 2003, which again is years after Sister Mary Curtis was abused and years after the murder of Sister Margaret Paul, Sister Mary Curtis named several priests who raped her and forced her to go to jail. And one of the priests she named was Father Gerald Robinson. I would just like to issue a trigger warning at this point in the case because I'm going to be talking about child sexual abuse. So if this is going to be difficult for you, I completely understand you may want to skip ahead a little bit. When she was just in preschool, Sister Mary Curtis was forcibly fondled and orally raped. The abuse continued to escalate throughout elementary school when it had become more violent. She was regularly raped orally, vaginally, and anally, slapped and physically abused and had her pigtails violently pulled during the assaults. In addition to Chet Warren, Sister Mary named three other priests, as well as a well-known pediatrician, two female teachers, and her own father and grandfather as being members of the cult who all abused her. According to a book titled, Sin, Shame, and Secrets, The Murder of a Nun, The Conviction of a Priest, and Cover Up in the Catholic Church by David Young, Sister Mary Curtis explained the following horrific abuse to the Toledo Diocese in 2003 when she came forward with her trauma. And this is what she stated, quote, the rituals were horrifying and sadistic, designed to break our wills and internalize whatever core programmed message they wished to use to further our powerlessness. Then she went on to explain how when she was just five years old, her powerlessness was so powerful that she was able to break her wills and internalize her pet Labrador retriever, Smokey, died. She stated, quote, A few nights later, my dad told me that we were going to see Smokey. Thinking he was somehow better now, I was excited. We arrived at an old house, and down in the basement was a large table on which Smokey was lying. Dad and other adults changed into black robes. My sister was given a meat cleaver, and she began to hack Smokey apart. The priest told me that because I was such a bad girl, my sister had to hurt Smokey like this. He then told me if I really loved Smokey, I would be able to put him back together again and make him come back to life. I learned that anything I loved would be annihilated, and that everything was my fault. End quote. Also at age five, she said that she was taken to Calvary Cemetery and placed inside a coffin-like pine tree, during a cult ceremony. She said, quote, Cockroaches were released into the box. I was in the box for several minutes, and I thought I was going crazy. She's five years old. They told me the bugs were marking me for Satan. As part of an initiation ceremony at just six years old, Sister Mary Curtis said that the cult members raped her. She explained, quote, The cult members beat drums, and a priest carried me to a table and vaginally raped me. At age 11, they made me ingest an eyeball. They wanted me to know they were always watching me. After the eyeball incident, they killed a little girl who was about three. I don't know who she was or where she was from. All of the adults left, leaving me alone in the room, a sea of blood and stench. I found an old cardboard, and I sat on it for hours. It was a little island. I told myself if I stayed on the cardboard, I wouldn't go crazy. I wished I had died. End quote. Sister Mary Curtis said that when she was in high school, Chet Warren was serving as chaplain at St. Vincent Hospital. Her father would drive her to the hospital and turn her over to Chet, who would take her to his quarters where other men would pay him to have sadomasochistic sex with the girl. And one of those paying customers was none other than Father Gerald Robinson. As a result of this devastating abuse, Sister Mary Curtis indicated that she suffered from disassociative disorder and post-traumatic stress disorder. In the end, the board that she was presenting her past trauma to, it was a board of six individuals. They all voted, which I cannot even bear to think about. Five out of six people voting on this matter as to whether or not they felt Sister Mary's allegations were credible and therefore needed to be reported to law enforcement. Five out of six said no, which is a slap in the face of Sister Mary's trauma and her bravery in coming forward. As she stated, quote, the diocese was saying that they didn't think my allegations were credible, but even if they felt it was a pile of cockadoody, they should be mandated to report it because of the murder of Sister Mary. murder allegation, end quote. Because remember, she claims that she witnessed a little girl being ritualistically sacrificed. Other survivors wound up coming forward as well. And eventually, Chet Warren was found guilty by the church of grievously sinful and criminal acts, as well as ritual abuse. Settlement succeeded $1.2 million. Chet Warren was expelled from the order in 1994 and lay-sized in 2007, which I mentioned. He was also included on the Detroit Archdiocese's list of credibly accused on June 10th, 2019 and died in 2021. Pop quiz. How many Catholic clergy members have been credibly accused of sexual abuse in the United States alone? A, 2,300. B, 6,000. C, 12,000. It's C, for sure. The answer is actually B. More than 6,000, actually. It's around 6,000. Here's why I'm, like, a little bit stuttering on my words. So these are the amount of credibly accused meaning. They've looked into it. They've validated it. They've confirmed it. But this number is a vast underestimation. As of January 28th, 2020, 41 Catholic diocese and religious orders have not been credited with sexual abuse. They have not released lists of priests accused of abuse. Furthermore, countless, arguably the majority of victims and survivors, may never come forward with allegations of abuse. So that number of hovering around 6,000 is only pointing to the people who have come forward, right? And again, my belief is the majority likely have not come forward. And it's only going by the list that the Catholic diocese and religious orders have provided. So there is, in my professional opinion, a shit ton more than that. Before I go on with this case, I want to say something here. Obviously, this case centers around the Catholic Church, given that the priests and the victim were both members of the Catholic Church. Institutional abuse, abuse by religious figures, is not just happening in the Catholic Church. I don't, for one second, want anybody to think that I am only highlighting the Catholic Church because I have some kind of, you know, bias or grudge against the Catholic Church. Absolutely not. I am the first one to tell you in my professional experience and just being a person of the world, this is happening everywhere. It is happening in all religions. It is happening in schools. It is happening in foster care. It is happening in non-profit organizations. It is happening, potentially, God forbid, under your roof. It is happening everywhere. It happened to my husband, not to him, you know, thank God, but his priest was arrested. During a sting operation facilitated by Chris Hansen, who we've had on the podcast, by the way, who remembered busting my husband's rabbi, who was busted for giving wine coolers to a bunch of 15-year-old boys that he met in a chat room. So all of this is to say that I have no personal grudge against the Catholic Church. This case just centers around, you know, the Catholic Church, which is why I'm going heavy into the statistics and the numbers and the cases involved in the church. So with all of that said, let's now go back in time to 1980, the year in which Sister Margaret Ann Paul was found murdered in the sacristy at Mercy Hospital. All fingers were pointing to one of the chaplains, Gerald Robinson, the one who behaved strangely, just like on a general basis, the one who everyone unanimously and independently pointed the finger at, the one we now all better understand for better or for worse as being a depraved human being who was abusing, abusing children for years and years prior to this murder. At the time of Sister Margaret Ann's murder, Robinson told police that he'd been in his two-room residence at the hospital the entire morning. He said he was drying off after having a shower when he received a phone call from Sister Phyllis telling him that Sister Margaret Ann had been murdered in the sacristy. He said he never left his apartment until getting that call to notify him that the nun was killed. At that point, he put on his clerical collar and his life was in danger. He wore a long black cassock and ran to the chapel. Except the thing is, he never showed up at the chapel that morning, despite his narrative. Ten days after the murder, police determined that the killer had to have been someone who knew Sister Margaret Ann, someone with extensive knowledge of religious ritual, and someone with both an opportunity and a motive. Eleven days after the murder, with virtually all suspects except one being eliminated from their list, detectives decided it was time to bring Father Gerald Robinson downtown for questioning. On April 16th, Father Robinson agreed to undergo an interview and a polygraph test, for whatever the fuck those are worth. The results came back inconclusive, unsurprisingly, but specifically the report read, quote, background of emotionality and inconsistent specific responses indicative of emotional stress were noted on several of the relevant questions set forth above at various times during the testing sequence. For these reasons, the polygrams themselves are of marginal utility for diagnostic purposes, end quote, aka we can wipe our ass with this report. Two veteran cops apparently interviewed Father Robinson for nearly eight hours, during which they drilled him about inconsistencies in his statement concerning his activities on the morning of the murder, as well as his whereabouts and the timing of the events on the day of the murder. Then, toward the end of the interrogation, sometime around 10 p.m., what happened? Pop quiz again. A, I love it, Will just like rubbed his hands together like, oh, let me have it. A, Robinson suddenly confessed and said that the devil made him do it. B, Father Robinson claimed that Father Schweitecki was the killer and that the murder weapon could be found on his desk. C, Father Robinson indicated that someone else had confessed to him that they committed the murder. All right, Will, what you got? This is a cool one, man. I think it's A. I just feel like he just did it. He just was like, you know what, guys? Yeah. He did not confess. He did not. He is way too arrogant and just a piece of shit to take ownership. So it's not A, unfortunately. The answer is C. So he suddenly claimed after being interviewed for eight hours that, quote unquote, someone had confessed to him that they were responsible for Sister Margaret Ann's murder. Under the sacred seal of the confessional, a protection that is recognized by both canon law and in many jurisdictions civil law, he therefore refused to reveal the identity of the penitent, which is a solid ass word, penitent. Father, do you realize how serious this is? Detective Marks asked, to which Father Robinson, in a now complete 180, replied that it didn't matter how serious this was because he made it all up. Nobody confessed to him. He was just kidding. When asked why he would do such a thing, why would you make that up after eight hours of being interviewed, the priest explained that he was simply exhausted and he just wanted to go home. So he said what he thought he needed to say to get the interview over with. Father Robinson signed a waiver to allow law enforcement to search his home without a warrant, and then he left the precinct. Sure enough, during the search, detectives discovered a nine-inch long sword. letter opener with U.S. Capitol emblems on the handle opener sitting on top of Father Robinson's desk. A letter opener, mind you, that did not test positive for any prints at the time. What does this tell you guys? It tells you that it had been wiped clean. So not only was the presumed murder weapon discovered to be in Father Robinson's possession, but it also suggested a level of premeditation or deliberate concealment. However, detectives pulled the priest back in for additional questioning following this rather damning discovery. It was determined that he would not be charged, and Amon Sr. suddenly arrived to escort the suspect out of police headquarters, or should I say former suspect. The official reason why no criminal charges were filed at that time was because certain forensic techniques were not available to law enforcement authorities to implicate Father Robinson. Additionally, many reports concerning Father Robinson, as well as 148 related documents, were being withheld by the Toledo Diocese. I just want to take a second and tell you what a diocese is, in case you don't know, because if you're not Catholic or you're just not aware of the term, I realize it could be confusing because I've said it a bunch of times now. A diocese is basically a church district or region that a bishop is in charge of, and it includes all the local churches, in that area, and the bishop oversees the priests and the activities within those churches beneath the diocese. So I want to shed some light on these missing reports and documents, and I want to say that not as an outsider, but as someone who has, you know, literally spent her days wading through the wreckage left behind by predators and the institutions that protected them. I, obviously, I am an investigator for my family's law firm, representing amongst many other, you know, survivors, but survivors of clergy sex abuse. What does that mean? That means that I read files that feel like open wounds. I sift through reports and memos that were deliberately doctored or hidden, and I watch the paper trail twist and disappear like smoke. These aren't just missing documents. They're the echoes of lives interrupted, of trust ripped apart, and of innocence stolen. What you're seeing here in this case, we'll talk about this case in particular, what you're seeing isn't clerical mismanagement or a silly oversight. It's a carefully orchestrated cover-up that stretches all the way to the top. For decades, the church has shielded abusers and has quietly relocated them from parish to parish, diocese to diocese, while telling the world and the victims and survivors that they're safe. Cardinals, archbishops, even officials in the Vatican, had knowledge of abuses and in many cases did nothing, or worse, actively intervened to protect the accused and the guilty rather than the victims. And I've seen the remnants of it in the files that I've examined. Notes that vanish, case reports that were lost and suddenly found, testimony quietly buried under bureaucratic red tape. And why? Because the nefarious players involved, and not everyone in the church has had a hand in this, please understand that, obviously. But those who did, their priorities were never about protecting children. They were only about protecting power, influence, and image. Preserving reputation trumped humanity. Silencing victims became standard procedure. Whistleblowers were intimidated, discredited, shamed, ignored, or worse. And every time I trace these patterns, every time I follow a trail of evasive memos or missing reports, I feel the weight of a system that weaponized bureaucracy to conceal brutality. And the consequences are devastating. Entire generations of survivors have just been left to carry trauma in silence while abusers continued, unimpeded. They were just relocated to go target a different group of children. And again, make no mistake, these institutional cover-ups, they were never accidental. The cover-up wasn't a mistake. It was a mistake. It was a mistake. It was a mistake. It wasn't a local failing. It was an institutional decision. A culture of silence mandated from the top down. For survivors, justice was postponed indefinitely, often until it was too late. Every case that I work on leaves a mark. Every transferred priest, every manipulated document or hidden document is a reminder that evil thrives not just in those who commit harm, but in those who turn a blind eye. And my job is to help drag those truths back into the light, to give a voice to the silence, to hold accountable the ones who hid behind robes, titles, and sacred vows. And just a few months ago, my brother was amongst many who, you know, he was, I will say he played a key role in negotiating a historic settlement for survivors. The Archdiocese of Los Angeles agreed to pay a record-breaking $880 million to 1,350 pushing its total payouts to an astonishing $1.5 billion. And I will tell you, money does not make up for what these individuals endured. It doesn't. What the hope is, is that it can help to bring a little bit of closure and a little bit of acknowledgement, if nothing else. But I will tell you, it almost doesn't even matter the check that many of these survivors have received or will receive. It doesn't even matter the check that many of these survivors have received or will receive It's not about that for most of them. It really isn't. Question, was that like a civil case? Yeah. It was a bankruptcy case, but yeah. Damn. So would it provide precedent as well or no? Yeah. I mean, for sure. There's other bankruptcy cases going on in other dioceses as well. So yeah, it definitely like paves a blazing path for future settlements. And in many cases, these perpetrators, like criminally, they can't be charged. A lot of them are dead at this point because the abuse goes back. Decades and decades. So this is why, you know, at this point, the only sort of retribution, if they're not going to see their perpetrator thrown behind bars, is financial settlement. Back to the case. So all of the evidence that was collected, both from Father Robinson's apartment and from the crime scene itself, included the 10-foot bloody altar cloth, Sister Margaret Ann's blue shoes, white girdle, pantyhose, white bra, blue slip, white blouse, dress, black veil, and necklace were all thrown into an evidence bag where they would sit untouched for two decades. A blood specimen was taken, as well as oral, rectal, and vaginal swabs and hair samples from Sister Margaret's head and pubic areas. Witnesses, including a doctor named Dr. Jack Barron, who literally saw a man exactly fitting Robinson's description, leaving the scene of the crime, as well as a lab technician named Grace Jones, who saw a priest walking out of the chapel carrying a duffel bag, were more or less dismissed. For now. Keep this in your back pocket. Furthermore, responding officers Dave Davison and Dan Dieter were abruptly pulled from the scene at the time of the murder, even though they were the responding officers, and suddenly redirected in order to investigate a random, suspicious black male at the downtown Greyhound bus station. And it struck them as strange. As it should, especially since they were the first on the scene and had no leads suggesting that this person had anything to do with the crime inside the hospital. No witnesses mentioned seeing a black man. No one at the hospital had even hinted at a connection to this supposed suspect. Off the bat, corruption seeped into this investigation and derailed any hope of an honest pursuit of justice and steered it toward cover-ups, misdirection, and murder. And the protection of those in power. Ten years later, after retiring on disability and freed from the fear of professional retaliation, Officer Dave Davison launched a one-man crusade to reopen the investigation into Sister Margaret Ann's murder. Despite countless people quietly pointing fingers at Father Gerald Robinson, nothing had changed. So Davison wrote to the police chief, the mayor, the Ohio governor, the state attorney general, the U.S. attorney general, the president, even Pope John Paul II, pleading for the case to be reopened. He argued that both the Toledo Police Department and the diocese had conspired to protect Father Robinson, prioritizing the reputation of the Catholic Church over justice for the nun. Davison was convinced that the department had deliberately slowed the investigation, threw him and his partner down, and that the case would be reopened. On a wild goose chase, fearful of what would happen if the brutal slaying of a nun led them straight to a priest. Because keep in mind, most of the city's top-ranking police officers were Catholic. So was the Lucas County prosecutor in 1980, and many judges too. The Toledo Catholic Diocese, which was founded in 1911, basically had the city wrapped around its finger. No one wanted to arrest a priest and ignite a scandal of unprecedented magnitude. Which sucks. But remember what I said in the beginning, right? Like Catholicism was not a religion on its own. It was a whole lifestyle, a whole identity of a community, which I'm not saying I understand why they didn't move forward with the investigation. I'm just kind of like saying that is their quote-unquote reasoning, perhaps, for not taking it seriously, which is no reasoning at all. Shame. Shame on all of them. So the investigation never really chased its most obvious suspect. They avoided looking too hard, afraid that their work would uncover the one man they just did not want to touch, Father Gerald Robinson. And so the devastating, brutal murder of Sister Margaret Ann Paul remained unsolved with no leads until 2003 when police received a letter from a woman named Sister Mary Curtis who claimed that Gerald Robinson had sexually abused her when she was a child involved in a series of satanic crimes. And so the investigation never really chased its most unsolved, brutal murder of Sister Margaret Ann Paul. So the investigation never really chased its most thus, 24 years after Sister Margaret Ann's death, in May 2004, a cold case team of investigators, including Detective Steve Forrester, Tom Ross, and Terry Cusino, reopened the case. Dean Moundros, the chief of the criminal division in the Lucas County Prosecutor's Office, ordered the exhumation of Sister Margaret Ann's body first. And so the investigation never really chased its most from her grave at Our Lady of the Pines Retreat Center in order to obtain DNA evidence. Obviously, there's going to be way more available in the way of DNA in 2004 than there was in 1980. Dr. Diane Barnett, Deputy Lucas County Coroner, conducted the re-examination of her remains, along with some detectives and representatives of the Sisters of Mercy religious order. They were all in the room during this second autopsy. Dr. Barnett discovered a small but very distinct impression, triangular in shape and about a quarter of an inch deep. She used a power saw to remove sections of bone that contained defects from presumably the murder weapon, including a two-inch piece of Sister Margaret Ann's lower jaw where the triangular indentation was located. Then Dr. Barnett removed the letter opener from evidence, the one that was taken off of Father Robinson's desk. In the first try of lining up the diamond-shaped blade with the injuries on Sister Margaret Ann's jaw, it slid into the indentation and fit reasonably well. But then Dr. Barnett turned the asymmetrical blade 180 degrees and tried it again. This time, she said, it slipped into place and made, quote, a perfect fit. It is my conclusion, Barnett told investigators, that based on my 21 years of experience as a deputy coroner and based on my knowledge and my training, that this weapon caused these injuries. Either this weapon or a weapon exactly like it, end quote. Adding to that, Dean Mandros from the prosecutor's office indicated that the blade fit the uniquely shaped hole in the jawbone, quote, like a key in a lock. The case against Father Gerald Robinson went to trial on April 24, 2006, where he pleaded not guilty. Now, the state was not required to prove a motive, but Dean Mandros, chief of the criminal division, as I said, in the Lucas County prosecutor's office, said that he was still going to offer a possible explanation for why the priest committed the murder. In criminal trials, by the way, if you're wondering why the state didn't need to prove motive, they don't need it to secure a conviction. What matters is that the defendant committed the crime. So in other words, motive or why someone did it, it can help the jury understand the context or the intent, but it is not legally required. Still, Dean Mandros offered a possible motive just to provide that context and insight into why, into why this horrific crime would have been committed. Okay, so he obviously called a bunch of people to the stand, right, to talk about what happened and to help provide some insight, some context. The killing was committed by someone with a deep understanding of church symbols and rituals, according to the testimony of Reverend Jeffrey Grob of Chicago, who is an expert on the occult. Sister Margaret Ann had a smear of blood across the forehead, which we know, because remember during my intro, I said that the assailant, aka Father Robinson, took the handle of the letter opener and touched her forehead to like anoint her. So that's where that blood came from. And according to Father Grob, the killer was making a motion to the assailant, and the assailant, aka Father Robinson, took the handle of the letter opener and touched her forehead to like anoint her forehead to like anoint her forehead. So that's where the assailant, aka Father Robinson, took the handle of the letter opener and touched her forehead to like anoint her forehead. So that's where the were now called to explain what they saw. The defense basically just poked holes in the prosecution and hinged much of their argument on the fact that Sister Margaret Ann was an elderly woman with brittle bones, so the wound in her jaw could not definitively been linked to the letter opener that was found on Robinson's desk. The defense also claimed the prosecution was holding out, that they had a tape of the initial interrogation, but were refusing to give them a copy. The prosecutor's office countered and denied that such a tape even existed. So as you can see here, all of this is to say the defense had shit. In the end, Judge Ossovic indicated that the jury had reached a verdict at 11.02 a.m. on May 11, 2006. 68-year-old Father Gerald Robinson was found guilty on all counts. His attorneys dropped their heads forward ever so slightly as the priest stood completely still, staring straight ahead, blinking just a few times. This was the second conviction for homicide of a Catholic priest in the United States. And you should all know the name of the first priest ever convicted of homicide in the United States. But if you don't recall, I will give you a hint. He was featured in our very first ever case covered on Psychopedia, like literally episode one. And he once cut off a chicken's head and placed it on the tip of his penis. That's right. I am talking about none other than Father Hans Schmidt, who was executed in 1916. If you do not know who I am talking about, I urge you to go back and literally listen to the first episode of Psychopedia. I mean, don't judge like our audio equipment sucked. We didn't even have audio equipment. We screamed into my laptop on a floor. So the case, you know, it's not polished. It's not our best showing in that sense, but a fascinating, fascinating case. We'll link it in the show notes. Father Gerald Robinson was sentenced immediately to 15 years to life in Ohio State Corrections Prison System. And get this, he has not been lay-sized by the Vatican, meaning he has not been stripped of his priest title or his like official connection with the church. I don't know why. I do not know why. He filed several appeals, which I could almost laugh at if somebody didn't die here. And this were so not a laughing matter, but really, you're going to file appeals, you fuck, which were all denied. And then he wound up suffering a heart attack in May 2014. Father Gerald Robinson ultimately died in the prison hospice unit of Franklin Medical Center on July 4th, 2014. So we've more or less talked about, you know, Father Gerald Robinson's psychology throughout the case. We talked about, you know, his domineering mother, we talked about how he possibly had some implications. Due to his childhood or maybe not, maybe he was just a dick, right? But I want to offer a little psychological profile, if I may, in my totally unprofessional opinion, but in my experience in this work and in these cases by this point, I think that his psychological profile reflects a very complex interplay of devout religiosity, which I think he had. I do think that he considered himself religious. I don't think he was faking it just for his mother and also suppressed aggression while outwardly appearing. He was very calm, conscientious, if not a little aloof for sure, but otherwise respected within his parish. His actions suggest a capacity for extreme compartmentalization, maintaining a facade of clerical virtue while committing acts of lethal violence. Experts have noted traits consistent with predatory behavior, you think, including careful planning, manipulation, and an ability to gain the trust of those around him. Though Father Robinson did not, his behavior points to underlying antisocial tendencies, a disregard for the sanctity of life, and the capacity to commit acts of intimate, targeted violence, all while appearing outwardly unremarkable, right? That's that duality. His case really just highlights how psychological control, social trust, and positional authority can intersect in cases of homicide within seemingly safe institutions. He was a wolf. He was a wolf in sheep's clothing. That's the gist. In conclusion, the funeral service for Sister Margaret Ann Paul back in 1980 was held three days after her murder and two days after what would have been her 72nd birthday. Her coffin, which was closed and draped in a white towel embroidered with an ornate crucifix, rested in the center of the aisle as 10 priests stood at the altar to pray for the repose of her soul. And I do regret to inform you, which I mentioned earlier, one of those priests was her murderer. Sister Margaret Ann Paul will be remembered, not for the pain that befell her in her final moments, but for the fulfilling life of devotion that she lived and the unwavering faith that she carried. Now, she rests with the Lord she served so faithfully, her spirit, I hope, finally at peace. And that's the case. So, this case officially marks the end of Sadistic September. Obviously, this case hits home for me personally, home for, you know, my family and the work that we do at my family's law firm, you know, and just constantly up against these institutional giants. And it is not just the Catholic Church, as I mentioned, in defending the people who for years and years and years, decades have been silenced. And as a result of that silence, it has continued. The abuse has continued. The trauma has continued. And it is just time for it to stop. It is time to protect innocent people and stop putting anything else above that. Guys, if you're still here, you are the realest of the real. And I thank you from the bottom of my black heart for being here with me. I see you all. I feel you all. If you would be so kind as to do your part and leave a heart on Spotify, Apple, wherever you listen to this, that would be great. My eyes will land on it. And I will feel you. I feel the warmth. And then in return, I will send out my gratitude into the universe to you. Definitely join me next week because we are kicking off Spookopedia. We are officially in spooky season. And I want to celebrate that every second I can with you guys because you guys are my people. And that's it. That's all I got. Check out patreon.com slash psychopedia pod for a lot more of this kind of stuff. And I love you. And thank you for listening. Bye. Bye.