by David Hosp
‘Why was his father let go?’
She looked him in the eyes. ‘Because of me. Because I fell in love with his son.’ And then the tears began to flow.
Finn sucked in a breath.
‘He was your father.’ She put her head down. ‘I loved him so much when we were young. I would have done anything for him. After his father killed himself, Billy was thrown out on the street. I was packed off to New Hampshire, and by the time I returned he had disappeared. My family took everything from him. His home, his father, me. He felt so angry and abandoned, he no longer cared how he lived. It was only recently that he realized what a mistake he’d made with his life.’
‘Why?’
‘I told him he had a son. He didn’t know before; I never had a chance to tell him back then.’
‘How you find him?’
‘I didn’t – he found me. That is the great irony of it all. When I fled from Elizabeth Connor’s apartment, I was in such a state I left behind the checkbook I had brought with me to buy her silence. Billy found my checkbook, and he came to find me. We hadn’t seen each other since he’d been thrown out of my family’s house. He’d known all along where I was – who I’d married – but he’d given up on me a long time ago. He thought I was happy. Can you imagine?’ She shook her head. ‘I told him about you. He was devastated. He felt responsible, and he vowed to protect me and to protect you. And that’s what he did. He watched over you to make sure nothing happened. And then, when I told him that James was beating me …’ She cut herself off. ‘I suppose I should have known what that would do to him. Perhaps, deep down, I did.’
Finn stood up. ‘I have to leave.’
She rose, reaching out to him once more. ‘You can’t go,’ she said. ‘Not yet. Please, we have so much to talk about.’
‘No, we don’t,’ he said.
‘You can’t mean that. It’s been forty-five years.’
‘For you it’s been forty-five years,’ he said. ‘For me, it’s been fifteen minutes.’
She let her hands drop. ‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Of course you’re right.’
‘I’ll let myself out.’
She nodded. ‘What do you plan to do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Will you go to the police?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘You killed a woman. Maybe a bad woman, but you killed her nonetheless.’
‘I did.’
‘I need to think about that. So do you.’
‘I will. Whatever you decide, I’ll understand. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for so many things. I know that probably doesn’t matter.’
‘Probably not,’ he said.
‘I want you to know it anyway.’
‘Okay.’ He started to walk out of the room. At the threshold, though, he stopped and turned around to look at her once more. ‘Did you ever think about me?’ he asked. ‘Did you ever wonder where I was, whether I was alive, whether I was happy?’
For the first time the tears started flowing down her face. ‘Every day,’ she said. ‘Every single day.’
Long was leaning against his car on the street outside of the Buchanan mansion, looking up at the door, when Finn walked out onto the stoop. Finn was tempted to pretend he hadn’t seen him, just walk on by without a word. He knew Long wouldn’t let it happen, though. Instead he walked toward the cop.
‘A social call?’ Long asked him when he drew close. His eyes were clear and penetrating.
‘I was going to ask you the same thing,’ Finn replied.
They stood there for a few seconds, both taking the measure of the other. Finally Long looked back up at the mansion. ‘Quite a place,’ he said. ‘It could have been yours.’
Finn shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘I would never have survived in that world.’
Long tilted his head at the lawyer. ‘You seem pretty resourceful,’ he said. ‘You made it off the streets, I think you could have made it with the silver spoon set.’
‘The streets are different,’ Finn said. ‘There are rules, and everyone knows them. Up there the rules don’t apply. I couldn’t live that way.’
‘Maybe you just didn’t learn their rules early enough.’
Finn shrugged. ‘I guess we’ll never know.’ He stepped away. ‘I’ve got to be getting home.’
Long nodded. ‘Must be nice to have a family.’ Finn just stared back, saying nothing. ‘There’s more to all this, isn’t there?’ Long asked.
It took a moment for Finn to respond. ‘Do you have something specific to ask me, Detective?’
Long stared back at Finn, and Finn could hear his own heart beating in his ears. Finally, Long let his gaze drop and he sighed heavily. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not now.’
‘Okay,’ Finn said.
‘I may be in touch, though. Later.’
Finn looked around at his surroundings. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. ‘I’ll be seeing you, Detective.’
‘Yeah,’ Long replied. ‘I’ll be seeing you.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
‘What are you going to do?’
Finn was leaning against the railing that surrounded the roof deck of the penthouse apartment on Beacon Street Lissa and Kozlowski shared. It was a spectacular view, for which it was well worth suffering the chill of the late October evening. Finn didn’t feel the cold anymore; he was numb.
Sally asked the question. She, Lissa and Kozlowski had listened quietly in the living room as Finn told them. He told them everything, straight through. No one interrupted him. He needed to talk; needed to hear himself voice all that he’d learned so that he could start to truly digest it. When he was done, he sat there for a few moments in silence before going upstairs to the roof to look out at his city. They gave him some time before they went up after him. There were chairs and a table, and they sat down in the cold. Finn, standing at the railing, heard them, but didn’t turn around.
‘I don’t know,’ Finn said.
‘She killed a woman,’ Kozlowski said. Even with all the change Lissa and his son had brought to his life, his vision was still largely black and white.
‘She did,’ Finn said.
‘She’s your mother,’ Lissa pointed out.
‘She is.’
‘What does that matter?’ Kozlowski asked. ‘We don’t have different rules based on who it is we’re dealing with.’
‘No?’ Lissa asked. ‘If Andrew breaks the law when he’s older would you turn him in? How about me? Would you turn me in?’
‘That’s different,’ Kozlowski said.
‘How?’
Kozlowski shook his head and said, ‘It just is. We’re not talking about someone who raised him. We’re talking about someone who abandoned him. It’s different.’
‘Maybe. It still doesn’t seem right.’
‘There is no right,’ Sally said quietly. Kozlowski and Lissa looked at her. ‘There is no right thing to do here. Every option is wrong. There’s no point in talking about it in those terms. The only thing that matters is what Finn decides to do. Whatever that is, it’s fine, because there is no better decision.’
No one said anything for a while. Finally, Finn began to talk again. He was still looking out at the expanse of the Charles River, and the Esplanade that ran dark along the near shore. In the distance the dome of one of the main buildings at MIT shone bright. The buildings along the far side glowed warm in the autumn chill. ‘You know,’ he said, ‘I used to daydream about my parents – I used to come up with all sorts of stories about why they had left me. Silly, romantic, childish stories borrowed from Walt Disney movies and Grimms’ fairytales and King Arthur and all that.’
‘It wasn’t that far off,’ Sally said. ‘A little darker, maybe.’
Finn gave an angry laugh. ‘A mob executioner and a society killer. Yeah, a little darker, I’d say.’
‘That’s not who they were when you were born. They were two kids. She was a princess. Trapped. He was the son of a cha
uffeur, and he couldn’t save her. In some ways it is a fairy tale.’
‘Without the happily ever after.’
‘I guess that’s up to you.’ Sally walked over to the railing, stood next to Finn, a couple of feet away, looking out at the same view. ‘You look at my parents – who they are, what they did, how I was raised – by rights I should be dead or in jail right now. I’m not. I’m not just bits and pieces of their failures. Neither are you.’
He nodded. ‘No, I’m not.’ He was still looking out over the river. ‘It’s a nice view from up here,’ he said.
‘I didn’t even know views like this existed a year ago,’ Sally agreed.
‘So,’ Lissa said from behind them. ‘What’s the answer?’
Finn turned around and looked at Lissa and Kozlowski. ‘I can’t turn her in,’ he said. ‘She’s my mother. I won’t lie for her; if the cops show up and they ask the right questions, I’m not going to risk my life for hers. But I can’t go to them on my own.’ He thought about it for a long moment. ‘That’s the best compromise I can come up with. I can live with that.’
Kozlowski nodded. ‘Girl’s right; there is no right or wrong here. Cops may figure this out on their own. They’ve gotta be digging into the connection between Buchanan and McDougal. They’ll start asking questions at some point.’
‘You think?’ Finn asked.
‘Maybe.’
‘Are you going to call her? Talk to your sister, maybe? Try to reconnect with your family?’ Lissa asked.
Finn looked around at the three of them. ‘I doubt it,’ he said. ‘I’ve already got a family.’
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to thank and acknowledge:
Trisha Jackson, whose assistance with this book has been invaluable. Thank you so much, I could not have done this without you.
All of the wonderful people at Pan Macmillan who have helped put this together on all fronts, including Thalia Suzuma, Helen Guthrie, Maria Rejt, Ali Blackburn, Stuart Wilson, Eli Dryden, Toni Byrne, Sarah Willcox, Matt Hayes, and Michelle Taylor.
Joanie Hosp, Richard Hosp, Martha Hosp, Ted Hosp and Joan McCormick, for giving helpful comments on early drafts.
Aaron Priest, Lisa Erbach-Vance, and everyone at the Aaron Priest Literary Agency, who are the best agents and friends a writer could have.
As always, my children, Reid and Samantha, as well as family and friends too numerous to mention, but too important to forget – thank you all for your love and support.
Finally, I would like to acknowledge Ann Fessler, with whom I did a book talk and signing at Cape Cod a few years ago. Her book, The Girls Who Went Away, was a great resource for the policies and practices involving adoption after the Second World War. I recommend it to anyone who is interested in further information on the subject.
NEXT OF KIN
David Hosp is a trial lawyer who has spent a portion of his time working pro bono on behalf of wrongly convicted individuals. He finds time to write his novels on his daily commute by boat across Boston Harbour. He lives with his wife and family outside the city.
Critical acclaim for David Hosp
‘Hosp hits the trifecta – brilliant, brawny, and totally believable’
David Baldacci
‘Hosp is a born storyteller, a master of quirky character and detail who enthrals through the simple, but elusive, expedient of never seeming to write a dull sentence’
Daily Telegraph
‘Brilliant … handled with page-igniting panache’
Daily Telegraph Top 50 Summer Reads 2009
‘This is a knock out; Grisham with passion, even a touch of the great Michael Connelly thrown in … It crackles from the first page to the last and never lets up for a second’
Daily Mail
‘A top-notch tale … Fast paced and gritty; Hosp knows his stuff and it shows in this suspense-filled novel’
Nelson DeMille
Also by David Hosp
Innocence
Among Thieves
Dark Harbour
The Betrayed
First published 2011 by Macmillan
This electronic edition published 2011 by Macmillan
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR
Basingstoke and Oxford
Associated companies throughout the world
www.panmacmillan.com
ISBN 978-0-230-75939-8 PDF
ISBN 978-0-230-75938-1 EPUB
Copyright © David Hosp 2011
The right of David Hosp to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Visit www.panmacmillan.com to read more about all our books and to buy them. You will also find features, author interviews and news of any author events, and you can sign up for e-newsletters so that you’re always first to hear about our new releases.