‘If you’re indicted,’ Caroline said slowly, ‘Richie’s charges against Carlo will become your principle motive for premeditated murder. And the notion that you tried to keep it quiet will hurt you all the more.’
Turning, Paget looked at her steadily. ‘But it won’t hurt me tomorrow, will it?’ He shrugged. ‘Besides, once I drop out, Colt may lose his interest in Richie’s death. Which could mean that Brooks will too.’
Caroline raised an eyebrow. ‘It must be extraordinary,’ she said finally, ‘to love a child.’
‘There are two people I love, Caroline. First, and always, there’s Carlo. And now there’s Terri. I don’t want either hurt.’
‘And how would Terri be hurt?’
‘Through Elena, of course. Terri’s trying to work out her daughter’s problems with an analyst, not the press or the police.’
Caroline folded her hands. ‘All right,’ she said at length. ‘How’s this: I call the publisher of our morning paper and inform him that any public interest in this boy Slocum’s story has gone aglimmer with your candidacy. Which is a good thing, I’ll add, because Slocum’s devotion to purity in politics has been satisfied without the risk of a lawsuit.’ She smiled briefly. ‘Child’s play, if you consider what we do a fit activity for children.’
‘Sometimes, Caroline, not even for adults. Not even for adults like us.’
Her smile faded. ‘I’m sorry, Christopher. I really am.’
After that, Caroline said little. Walking to the elevator, she touched his arm. ‘Take the day off if you can. Take Terri with you.’
Paget meant to. But when he arrived at the office, shortly before noon, Terri was gone.
Chapter 16
When the first telephone call came to her office, and even more intensely when her phone rang again, Terri hoped that the caller would be Chris.
But the first call was from Denise Harris. She was brisk and to the point. ‘The police were here this morning,’ Harris said. ‘A man named Dennis Lynch.’
Terri stood, telephone clasped to her ear. ‘What did they want?’
‘Any notes or records I had regarding Elena’s therapy, or any conversation with you.’ Harris paused a moment. ‘They also wanted to interview me. When I asked them why, they told me it was about Richie’s death – that you, or even Elena, may know something about it.’
Harris sounded quite calm, a good professional imparting information to a mother. But Terri found herself pacing. ‘What did you say to them?’ she asked.
‘Only that I couldn’t help them. Not without your consent.’ Harris paused. ‘I guess they haven’t asked you.’
‘No.’
Harris was silent for a time, then quietly said, ‘I don’t need to hear any more about this, Terri, Not unless it has something to do with Elena.’
‘It doesn’t. But just for the record, we’re seeing you for Elena’s benefit, and whatever the police are thinking about Richie is a separate thing.’ Terri paused for emphasis. ‘I don’t want them bothering Elena. Ever.’
‘Then they won’t.’ Harris’s voice was neutral; for the first time, Terri sensed her discomfort. ‘Call me if anything happens with Elena, all right?’
For an instant, feeling frightened and alone, Terri considered telling Harris about Jack Slocum, the threat of an article that might include Elena. But perhaps that was more than the therapist wished to know; either the article would appear or it would not, and meanwhile there was nothing she could do. ‘I will,’ Terri answered. ‘And thanks for calling, Denise. I appreciate your concern.’
‘Anytime,’ Harris said easily. Terri sensed that she was grateful to get off.
A rush of half-formed thoughts flooded Terri’s mind. The eerie sense that her words to Harris – that she did not wish the police to bother her daughter – echoed Rosa’s on the morning Terri had found her father dead. A deep resentment of Chris for being elsewhere when she needed him. The desire to rush to Elena’s school and take her child home. A wave of guilt she could not define. A thought of piercing clarity: Denise Harris might well believe that Chris and Terri, or perhaps Terri alone, were responsible for Richie’s death. And another: that other people she knew might come to think that Elena’s father was murdered and that Terri wished to marry his murderer.
It made her remember what she felt in her father’s home: That any happiness was transient. That she had done something wrong. That her only security was escape.
The night before, the nightmare had come again.
Get a grip, Peralta. Feeling sorry for yourself is a waste of time, and so is expecting someone else to take care of you. That much she had learned from Rosa.
Terri began pacing. Her desk was strewn with work she could not do.
The telephone rang.
A woman’s voice, taut and upset, speaking too quickly. ‘Mrs Arias, this is Barbara Coffey, Elena’s day care supervisor. You remember?’
Terri checked her watch: Elena would not be in day care for a good three hours. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Yes. I came in early, to bring some posters while the room was empty for lunch.’ Her voice rose. ‘Elena was there, with two men – one white and one black. They were asking questions . . .’
Terri stood. ‘You mean the school just let . . .’
‘Yes.’ The woman paused. ‘Her teacher’s with them, Mrs Arias.’
Terri found them in the schoolroom. Four desks were arranged in a circle. Monk and Lynch sat on top of theirs; Leslie Warner sat next to Elena, holding her limp hand as Monk asked questions. Behind them, a bulletin board had spelling words and cutouts of Halloween pumpkins. Monk’s tape machine sat on Elena’s desk.
‘Mommy,’ Elena said, and got up, looking uncertainly from her mother to the teacher who gripped her hand.
Terri gazed down at Leslie Warner. ‘Let her go,’ she said softly. ‘Right now.’
Warner opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. Elena’s hand slipped free.
Terri picked her up. ‘Hi, sweetheart,’ she said. Elena’s arms came tight around her neck.
‘I’m sorry, Mommy,’ the little girl said.
Through her anger, Terri’s nerves tingled; she did not ask what Elena meant. ‘I’ve come to see you,’ Terri told her. ‘Just wait outside for a minute, okay?’
The little girl nodded against her shoulder. Terri carried her to the doorway; Barbara Coffey waited, looking fearfully over Terri’s shoulder at Warner and the police. ‘I’ll take Elena to the playground,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ Terri said. ‘You’re the only one who thought of her.’
Coffey took Elena’s hand; as they left, the little girl looked back at Terri. It was all Terri could do to wait until Elena disappeared.
She turned, walking back into the room. She stopped two feet in front of Monk.
‘You scum,’ she said. ‘Both of you.’
Monk’s returning gaze was not angry; Terri had the sudden intuition that this had not been his idea and that he would make no excuses. He turned to Warner. ‘Thank you,’ he said politely. He turned back to Terri, nodded slightly, and left. Lynch trailed after him without looking at anyone.
Facing Warner, Terri simply gazed at her. The teacher’s gray eyes were at once defensive and defiant; she backed away one step.
‘How could you allow this?’ Terri asked.
Warner raised her head. ‘I have an obligation. To Elena, not you.’
In that moment, Terri understood. ‘You called them.’
Warner folded her arms.
‘Why?’ Terri asked softly.
‘You threatened to kill Ritchie.’ Warner’s voice rose. ‘Elena told me, months ago.’
Terri felt her body stiffen. Slowly, it came to her: the night she had found Richie drunk with Elena. She had tucked the child in bed and then, thinking her asleep, had told Richie that she would kill him if he again became drunk around their daughter. And then, suddenly, Terri remembered Monk asking if she had ever threatened to kill
Ritchie.
Gazing at Warner, Terri shook her head. ‘Do you have any idea,’ she said slowly, ‘of the harm you may have done? Do you understand my child at all? Or any child?’
Warner seemed to draw resolve from the weariness in Terri’s face. ‘You shouldn’t raise her,’ she retorted angrily. ‘Not with what Elena knows. She’s lost without her father.’
Terri looked into Warner’s eyes. She made herself wait until she was certain of what she wished to do. And then, quite slowly and deliberately, she took one step forward and slapped Warner across the face.
There was a sharp crack; a jolt ran through Terri’s arm. Warner reeled backward, eyes shocked and filling with tears, mouth open in fear.
‘You fool,’ Terri said softly, and went to find Elena.
Elena pointed at the sea lion, leaping to catch the silvery fish tossed by a curly-haired woman in a blue zookeeper’s outfit. ‘Look, Mommy,’ she said. ‘He’s having dinner.’
It was all that Elena had said in minutes, and one of a handful of words in the hour since Terri had picked her up at school. On first seeing her mother, the little girl had worn a fearful, guilty look. Being questioned about a parent would turn a child’s world inside out, Terri knew, and that Elena did not mention the police showed how fearful and ashamed she was. To take Elena home for a ‘talk’ would only make things worse; when Terri asked Elena if she wanted to go to the zoo, the little girl nodded, and her anxiety seemed to ease.
But the zoo itself had seemed to overwhelm her, and none of her formerly favorite things – the petting zoo, the orangutans, or the merry-go-round – drew any response. Finally, Terri suggested a ride through the zoo in a motorized train; Elena could sit in her lap and take things in as she chose.
Now, moving past the seal pool, Elena settled back against her mother. The day was gray and a little chilly. The train was not crowded, and Terri and Elena – sitting alone near the end – could talk as they chose. The rolling, parklike setting seemed far away from police or questions, and the bump and rattle of the train had a certain lulling quality.
The next animals they saw were polar bears. Mammoth and white, two shaggy white bears lumbered across a rocky terrain with a moat to keep them from escaping. For no discernible reason, one of the bears reared on its hind legs and emitted a growl toward Terri and Elena. A year ago, Elena might have shivered with a child’s delight at being frightened; the child she had become buried her face in Terri’s shoulder until her mother assured her that they had moved past the creature.
Elena looked tentatively into her mother’s face. ‘Were you scared?’ Terri asked.
Elena nodded. Slowly, she said, ‘The policemen scared me too.’
Behind her, grizzly bears went by unnoticed, and then a rhinoceros. ‘How did they scare you?’ Terri asked.
Elena looked away. ‘Miss Warner said not to be. But they asked all about Daddy.’
Terri tried to sound casual, as if she were curious only because Elena had mentioned it. ‘What about Daddy?’
The little girl gazed at Tern’s lap. ‘When you guys were fighting.’
Terri studied her. ‘Even grown-ups argue sometimes, Elena. Do you remember anything about us fighting?’
A short nod. ‘You said you would kill Daddy.’
The words, fearful yet certain, made Terri’s skin feel cold. Even at six, part of a child’s mind was literal: Richie’s death lent meaning to things that Elena could not comprehend. And then, struggling to explain, Terri thought of Ramon Peralta.
‘Your father was drunk,’ she said softly. ‘Do you know what “drunk” means?’
Elena hesitated. ‘You act crazy?’
Terri nodded. ‘Very crazy, sometimes, and I love you too much to have let your daddy be like that around you. I was just trying to tell him that.’
For the first time, Elena looked up at her. The zoo train cruised by a jaguar and two Indian elephants, ignored by the dark-haired child whose eyes now searched her mother’s. ‘Did you want to kill Daddy?’
Though Terri was prepared for this, the question shocked her. ‘Of course not,’ she said finally. ‘Why do you ask that?’
Once more, Elena turned away: Terri found that something in the child’s profile, so much like Richie’s, unsettled her. ‘Because of me,’ Elena said.
Terri pulled her daughter close to her, kissing her forehead. ‘I love you more than anything, sweetheart. But killing people is wrong.’
As if in answer, Elena’s arms tightened around Terri. ‘I didn’t tell them, Mommy. Only Miss Warner, a long time ago.’
‘Tell them what?’
‘What you said to Daddy.’ Elena’s voice was soft and fearful. ‘I won’t get you in trouble. I promise, okay?’
Terri felt her stomach wrench. ‘You don’t need to promise, Elena. You don’t need to be afraid for me.’
Elena shook her head. ‘They’ll take you away from me. If a mommy or daddy gets in trouble, that’s what they do. Then I could never see you again.’
Terri pulled herself back, holding Elena to see her face. ‘Who told you that?’ she asked.
Instead of answering, Elena insisted, ‘I didn’t tell them. I wouldn’t talk about you.’
Terri remembered asking Elena about Carlo, the child’s face turning to the wall, the silent refusal to speak or even look at her. ‘Daddy told you that, didn’t he?’ Terri said softly. ‘About taking parents away.’
Elena nodded, her voice hovering between pride and confusion. ‘He told me about all his feelings. All the things that scared him.’
‘Like what?’
Elena looked down again. ‘Chris took you away from Daddy,’ she answered. ‘He was helping you take me away too. I had to stay with Daddy, or he’d be all alone.’
The simple words, repeated like a catechism, frightened Terri for Elena more than anything the child had said. Her hatred of Richie returned as fresh as when he was alive. ‘Your daddy was a selfish man,’ Terri said without thinking. ‘He didn’t love me or you or anyone. All that he wanted was you to feel sorry for him, and me to take care of him.’
Elena’s eyes filled with tears. ‘That’s not true,’ she exclaimed. ‘Chris was Daddy’s enemy. I told them all about it.’
‘Who?’
‘The policemen.’ Pausing, Elena’s voice took on a new determination. ‘I wouldn’t leave Daddy, and so Chris killed him with a gun. He’s going to jail, Mommy. Forever.’
When there was a knock on his office door, Paget turned, hoping for Terri. And then Lynch and Monk came through the door with a bearded medical technician.
They’ve come to arrest me, Paget thought at once. Steeling himself, he asked, ‘What do you want?’
Monk watched Paget’s hand, frozen halfway to the telephone: Paget knew that Monk had followed his thoughts perfectly. Then Lynch shook his head. ‘All we want is prints,’ he said evenly. ‘And blood.’
In his self-disgust, Paget almost laughed.
Monk and Lynch sat at Paget’s desk like two corporate lawyers ready to negotiate a deal. Lynch put fingerprint cards and an ink pad on Paget’s blotter, while Monk handed him some papers. A search warrant, much like the one for Paget’s home and car. Except this warrant authorized the holder to take fingerprints and sample blood from Paget’s body.
Paget looked at the ink pad, then at Lynch. ‘You could have done this a while ago,’ he said, ‘instead of stringing things out.’
Lynch, pushing forward a card, shrugged his apology. Paget held out his right hand. Silent, the technician took it; he placed one finger at a time on the ink pad and then on the card, rolling it from side to side. Paget turned to Monk. ‘In fact,’ he continued, ‘you would have, Charles. If it had been up to you instead of Brooks.’
Monk looked him in the face. But he said nothing: to acknowledge the question would be to admit that he could not answer.
The telephone rang. It might be Terri, Paget thought. As it rang, the technician turned the tips of Paget’s fingers in
to prints on a white card.
The telephone stopped ringing.
Paget’s mouth was dry. The technician pulled out a thin silver needle and a glassine bag. Silent, Paget undid a shirt cuff and rolled up the sleeve of his left arm.
The technician punctured the inside of his arm. With a fixed expression, Paget watched the bottom of the bag turn a deep red, and then the cop put a Band-Aid where the needle had been.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
Leaving, Monk did not look at Paget. Lynch and the technician trailed after.
Checking voice mail for messages, Paget left inky smudges on the numbered buttons of his telephone. The inside of his arm stung.
The call had been from Terri. There was a problem with Elena; Terri could not explain by telephone. Her voice, coming from an outdoor pay phone, sounded strained and preoccupied. When Paget called her apartment, no one answered.
Paget went home and made himself a drink, waiting for Carlo to return from basketball.
Chapter 17
‘In a single day,’ Harris said the next afternoon, ‘Elena finds herself being torn between her teacher, the police, her dead dad, mom, mom’s boyfriend, and maybe even the boyfriend’s son. If I had known all that was happening, I’d have gone to the school myself.’
Terri slumped in her chair. ‘I’m taking her out of there as soon as I can.’
‘I don’t see that you have much choice. Even without having slapped that foolish woman.’ Harris paused. ‘You look exhausted.’
Terri shrugged helplessly. ‘I couldn’t sleep, and then Elena had her dream again. This morning she looked worse than I do.’
Harris seemed to reflect. ‘Elena needs protection from whatever this is about Richie.’ She paused for emphasis. ‘No matter what comes next.’
Terri gave her a direct look. ‘I don’t know where Elena’s thing about Chris is coming from, Denise. Unless it was Richie telling her that Chris was his enemy.’
Harris’s eyes met Terri’s. ‘Is there any possibility,’ she said softly, ‘that Elena got this suspicion of Chris from you?’
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