CHAPTER 10 – BREAKING THE NEWS
Leandre Durand refused to let the hostile stares make him drop the little girl's hand. He did not intend to release the child until she saw someone who flung arms wide open in welcome and comfort.
"I beg your pardon, please," he said to the sort of storekeeper who keeps watch on the whole neighborhood. "Could you send word ahead to this girl's family that there has been trouble and she needs some help?"
This was not at all what the storekeeper expected from the outsiders. He barked orders in Arabic to a boy about the girl's age, and the boy took off like a shot.
"Thank you," Durand said.
"Wait a minute," the storekeeper said. "What sort of trouble?"
"I must talk to the family first, I am afraid. You will excuse us," Durand said. He shepherded his little group onward without another word. That got the neighborhood on its toes. Durand watched the swirling without acknowledging it. He noticed, to his relief, that Nason was also projecting a sense of competent, and well-connected, manhood. In a neighborhood that was not accustomed to welcoming strangers, it was not a bad idea to look as if you had authority, good backup, and lots of friends. He had worried that Nason would be too young to understand that, although, to be sure, he had held up quite well in general, so far.
The girl's father was waiting outside his front door when they arrived. Durand had hoped for this. It was bad enough to bring such news, but worse yet if the only person you had to talk to was the mother. He and the father made eye contact, and Durand sensed that the other man knew, just from the tableau in front of him, that the boy was dead. He didn't look like a man who wanted to be led gently up to bad news, in any case.
"The boy who was with this girl was murdered," Durand said without preamble (to Nason's horror). "I intend to help catch the murderer or murderers. For that, I will need your help. And hers. She was likely the only witness. You see, I hope, that she is supremely important, not only for her own sake, but for the sake of justice."
Nason began to translate Durand's speech from French to Arabic, with proper niceties up front, but the father waved a hand to cut him off.
A woman behind the father swayed. She cried out in a dialect that Durand didn't recognize.
"She is begging that someone tell her that she has understood wrong, that her son is all right," Nason said.
"Please, gentlemen, come inside," the father said, in impeccable French, as he herded his immediate family inside. Once out of the sight of his neighbors, he got to his knees and scooped his daughter into his arms, ever so gently, and held her very close.
Not Exactly Allies Page 10