Faye Kellerman - Decker 13 - The Forgotten

by The Forgotten

  Carter looked up. 'Why would... what do you think?'

  'I don't know yet.'

  'You must have some ideas,' Jill whispered.

  'I'm sure I will have some ideas,' Decker said. 'And when I do, you'll be the first to know.'

  'When can we see him?' Jill's voice was barely audible.

  'As soon as I hear it's okay, I'll come down and get you personally.'

  'We can't see him now?' Carter asked. 'I want to see him now! I demand it!'

  'Please, please, Mr Golding.' Decker had his eyes closed, seeing the horror and knowing it was too much. 'You must trust me with this one. I'll tell you when it's okay.'

  Silence. Then came the muted sobs and the hand-wringing.

  'How did...' Carter couldn't say it.

  'He died instantly,' Decker said. 'I'm positive he didn't feel a thing.'

  'That's not what I meant.'

  'But that's what you want to know,' Decker said. 'He didn't suffer.' He paused. 'I know you have another son, Karl. I'd like to talk to him as soon as you'll allow it.'

  'Why?' Carter asked.

  'Because sometimes brothers confide in each other. I know this from personal experience. I have two sons who are very close to each other and protective of one another. I'm sometimes regarded as the common enemy. Or just too overprotective—'

  'Oh, my God!' Jill blurted out. 'Do you think that Karl's in danger?'

  'No, that's not what I'm saying,' Decker answered. 'I just want to find out what he knows about his brother.'

  'Our children are very open with us,' Carter said. 'If you have something to ask, I demand that you ask it of me.'

  'Nothing specific to ask at the moment.' A lie. 'Just walking down all avenues. Mr Golding, do you have any information that might help me?'

  'No! Of course not! Why did you ask that?'

  'Please don't take offense at anything I ask, sir. And I beg the same of you, Mrs Golding. I am so sorry. The last thing I want to do is contribute to your pain.'

  Jill stared at him through deep pools of sorrow. 'So you don't know who did it?'

  'No,' Decker replied.

  'And Dee Baldwin is missing?'

  'Right now, we can't locate her, that is correct.'

  Jill clasped her shaking hands. 'So what do you think?'

  'I don't know.'

  Is Dee involved?'

  'I don't know.'

  'And it was brutal?' Jill asked.

  'It was instantaneous,' Decker replied.

  Jill's lower lip trembled. 'He didn't suffer?'

  'No.'

  'How do you know?'

  'I know. He didn't suffer.'

  Jill started crying again. 'I want to see my son,' she sobbed. 'I need to see him!'

  'As soon as it's okay, I'll take you down personally—'

  'You already said that!' Carter snapped.

  'I know. I'm repeating myself.'

  'Can't you speed things up?' Carter barked.

  'The case is my top priority,' Decker said. 'I'm moving as fast as I can, because that's what we both want. That's why it's so important for me to get information early on. I hate to belabor this, but when do you think I could meet with Karl?'

  Jill dried her eyes on a crumpled tissue. 'What do you think Ernesto was hiding from us?'

  'I don't know. Maybe nothing. But kids hide things. Even kids who love their parents. And Ernesto loved you both very much—'

  Carter made a snorting sound. 'Don't patronize me—'

  'I'm not, sir. He told me that he loved and admired you

  both very much. Actually, he told me that the first time we talked alone... the day he confessed to the vandalism of the synagogue.'

  Another protracted silence. Then once again Jill started to weep. 'Thank you for saying that.'

  Decker waited a moment before speaking. 'This is just a gut feeling, so I could be completely wrong. I'm just wondering if this wasn't connected to the vandalism. That maybe Ernesto had dealings with some dangerous thugs. That maybe he had gotten himself into a bad way and was too embarrassed to tell anyone.' A long pause. 'I don't know. I'm just pecking around.'

  'Do you have some specific thugs in mind?' Jill demanded to know.

  'When the temple was first vandalized, we checked out some neo-Nazi groups—'

  'Ernesto wouldn't know anything about that!' Carter insisted. His voice rose in pitch. 'Why would he know anything about that?'

  Decker said, 'For a boy like Ernesto to vandalize... I was thinking that he somehow had been influenced by some pretty rotten people. People he wouldn't mention to you, but perhaps Karl might know—'

  'If you suspected that Karl knew something about the vandalism, why didn't you talk to him when it happened?' Carter growled out.

  'I believe I had asked to talk to him,' Decker said. 'I think you had said no.'

  Carter looked away. 'I don't remember that!'

  'Well, maybe I'm wrong,' Decker said.

  But they both knew he wasn't wrong.

  Jill bit her lip. 'Karl doesn't even know yet... does he?'

  'You're the first ones I've told.'

  'But he'll find out soon. It's bound to make the news.' She jumped up and started pacing. 'Carter, you have to call—'

  Carter bounded out of the chair. 'I'm on it.'

  Jill said, 'Can you please go now? We need some... I have

  to.. ' Her eyes watered. 'I have to make some phone calls.' She sank back into the couch. 'I don't know if I can do it!'

  Decker said, 'Is there someone I can call for you?'

  'My sister.' Jill gave him the number. 'I really don't feel well.'

  'I'll call her right now.'

  'I'll be in the bedroom upstairs.'

  'Can I help you up?'

  'No, I can...' She trudged over to the staircase, an old woman bound in shackles that would never come off. Climbing one step, two steps, then three and four. She stopped, turned and faced him. Her voice was filled with tears. 'When did you want to meet with Karl?'

  'As soon as possible.'

  'Come back in an hour.' She continued her climb to hell.

  Decker looked around the chock a block furnishings and eventually found the phone. Three lines; one was lit up in red. Decker punched in the second line and called Jill's sister. Her name was Brook. He told her to please come by her sister's home now. When Brook asked for an explanation, Decker said he'd talk to her once she arrived on the premises. As a rule, he didn't deliver this news over the phone.

  Carter came back. 'Where's my wife?'

  'Upstairs in the bedroom,' Decker said. 'I'm waiting for her sister.'

  'Which one? Brook?'

  'Yes. There are others?'

  'Philippa,' Carter said. 'She lives in San Diego. Jill's not that close to her. But I suppose she'll have to be... told.' He looked about at nothing in particular. 'I have to go pick up... my son... Karl. They've pulled him out of class. I didn't tell anyone why... just that it was an emergency.'

  'Would you like me to pick him up?' Decker offered. 'Not to question him, just as a taxi service so you can stay with your wife.'

  Carter looked somewhere past Decker's shoulder. 'No questions?'

  'No, not in the car. Your wife said I can come back in a hour to talk to your son.'

  Carter was silent.

  'Or...' Decker tried, 'I can wait here until Brook arrives. And you can go pick up your boy.'

  Carter shook his head in confusion, tears in his eyes. 'I don't know. What do you think I should do?'

  'Honestly? There's nothing you can say or do for your wife at this moment. She's in a state of shock. Your son will need you. And he'll remember who came to pick him up. If you're too unsteady to drive, I'll send a car out for you.'

  'I can drive.' Carter checked his pockets, then pulled out his car keys. 'The school is ten minutes from here. I can make it.'

  Decker nodded.

  'You'll wait here for Brook?'

  'Yes, sir.'

  'You'll tell
her?'

  'Yes, if you want me to.'

  'Yes, I think...' He brushed back tears. 'I suppose I'll have to call my siblings as well. I have two younger brothers.' His wet eyes were frozen in grief. 'Thank God, my parents are dead.'

  Karl was also broad across the chest and had iron-pumper arms, indicating to Decker that somewhere in the ectomorphic Golding lineage was a rampant mesomorphic gene. His face was fairer, but his complexion was rumpled like tapioca pudding. No beard growth yet, so lumps and bumps were visible in all their glory. His eyes were bluer than his brother's, swimming in a sea of red. His nose was also red. He peered at Decker, but nothing registered in his eyes. It was as if Decker were inanimate.

  Decker said, 'Just a few questions, Karl. Tell me when you've had enough.'

  'Okay.' It was a whisper. 'It's important that we talk now?'

  'Yes.'

  The boy averted his gaze. 'All right.'

  They were sitting on a leather couch in the boy's bedroom, as spacious as Decker's living room. It held the same plaster adobe-colored walls as the rest of his house and was furnished very sparsely - a bed, a desk and computer, a TV on a stand, bookshelves containing more videos than the printed word. With the air-conditioning on full-tilt, the place was crypt cold. Decker said, 'First off, let me tell you how sorry I am.' Tears leaked from the fifteen-year-old's eyes. He rubbed them

  away.

  'Your brother said a lot of things to me in confidence,' Decker continued. 'Things that bothered him, and things that bothered me. I'm wondering if he expressed the same concerns to you.'

  Karl looked up from his lap. 'Like what?'

  'Ernesto spoke to me about some of the fantasies he was having. Did he ever speak to you about them?'

  The moments ticked on. One... two... three... four...

  The boy whispered, 'What fantasies?'

  Decker kept his face emotionless. 'I'm telling you this, not to be lurid, but to help me understand Ernesto. The more I know about him, the more it'll help me with the investigation. Ernesto was interested... no, that's the wrong word. He was plagued by awful images of Nazi brutality. Plagued by them, but fascinated by them. The images bothered him very much, but he couldn't get rid of them. Furthermore, he felt that... that your father's father - Isaac Golding - hadn't been up front about his origins.'

  Silence.

  And then more silence.

  'Did he ever express any concerns like these to you?'

  Karl sighed. 'May I ask what the point of... the point of this is... sir?'

  He was trying to be polite, and that counted for a lot, especially under these circumstances. 'I'm wondering if Ernesto had had a secret life and had slipped into the wrong crowd. I'm wondering also if he had tried to get out of it, by confessing it to

  Dr Baldwin. Perhaps someone wanted the information transfer permanently silenced.'

  'Do you think that's what happened?'

  'I don't know, Karl. That's why I'm asking you such sensitive questions.'

  'Did you talk to my parents about this?'

  'Not yet.'

  'Can I ask that you don't?' The big kid swallowed. 'I don't think my mom...' Tears. 'She's in enough pain.'

  'Tell me what you know. And then we'll see if we can work out a plan.'

  'First, you tell me what you know... sir.'

  'Okay, I will. According to Ernesto, your grandfather's name was Yitzchak Golding.' Decker pronounced the name with the correct gutturalization, something he couldn't have done five years ago. 'Ernesto had done some research and had found out that a Yitzchak Golding had died in a Polish concentration camp. Now it's entirely possible that there's more than one Yitzchak Golding. But Ernesto was under the impression that your grandfather had stolen the dead Yitzchak Golding's identity. Did he ever mention anything like that to you?'

  'Something.'

  'So this sounds familiar?' Decker asked him. 'That your grandfather was a Nazi in hiding?'

  'A little.'

  'Like how.'

  'Just that Ernesto had some... questions. He went to Dad about them. Dad freaked and that was the end of it. Ernie dropped it.'

  Decker took in the kid's eyes. 'So if I mentioned this to your dad, it would strike a nerve?'

  'I don't think you should do that right now.'

  'I'll keep that in mind. What about your mother?'

  'He never said anything to her as far as I know.'

  'Okay. So we'll keep her out of this.' Decker smoothed his

  mustache. 'How about you, Karl? Did he stop talking about it to

  you?'

  The boy's eyes overflowed. He threw his hands over his face and cried out, 'It's all my fault.'

  'No, it isn't—'

  'Yes, it is! I should have said something! I should have done something! I didn't knowV

  Decker watched him gulp in big, breathless, heart-wrenching sobs. Seconds passed, then minutes. Finally, Karl was controlled enough to speak. 'It started out as a school project - the family tree.' A big sniff. 'When this came up... and Dad wigged... Ernie knew that he'd hit something awful. I told him to drop it with a capital D! What's done is done, you know. Grandpa was dead, the Holocaust is more than a half-century old, and stirring stuff up wasn't going to bring back any lives. He wouldn't listen.'

  'You must have been frustrated—'

  'More like angry. Ernie was acting like this... like... a possessed person!'

  Decker nodded encouragement. 'What did he do?'

  'He wanted to find out who Grandpa really was. He wrote to Argentina, he wrote to Berlin, he wrote everywhere. He went nuts with the idea of who Grandpa was... and his Nazi origins. He started talking to some real strange people. I should have told Dad. I should have told Dr Dahl. She would have done something smart. But then the temple vandalism went down. And Ernie went into therapy. So I kept my mouth shut and decided to let the experts handle it.'

  'You did the right thing—'

  'No, I didn't,' the boy broke in. 'Ernie's dead! I didn't do the right thing!'

  'Yes, you did,' Decker said. 'You have to believe me on this, Karl.'

  The boy didn't believe him. But he didn't refute him, either.

  'Are you scared, Karl?' Decker asked. 'Do you think you need protection?'

  'I don't knowV The boy's lower lip trembled. 'I don't know!'

  'Do you have any names?'

  'No, goddamn it! I wish to God I did, but I don't, sir. I swear I don't.'

  'I believe you.'

  Karl said, 'The whole synagogue thing was... I had no idea that Ernesto had gotten involved so deeply! / thought he was making the whole thing up just to look like a badass to his girlfriend.'

  'Ruby Ranger.'

  'Queen Goth. If anyone was behind this, it would be her! She's crazy and mean!' He looked up at Decker. 'I'm not the only one who feels that way. Your stepson hates her, too, you know.'

  Decker knew.

  Karl looked away. 'I probably shouldn't have mentioned him.'

  'No, it's fine. Several people, including Jacob, had told me that Ruby and Ernesto were an item.'

  'You should arrest her!' Karl looked at Decker. 'You are gonna talk to her, right?'

  'Last we heard, she had left town right after the vandalism. When was the last time Ernesto saw her?'

  'I don't know.'

  'So you don't know if she and Ernesto had maintained contact after the vandalism?'

  A long, suffering sigh. 'There were a few letters. I think I know where he hid them...' Karl got up. 'But it could be that Ernesto took them to camp.'

  'Why did Ernesto hide the letters?'

  'Because my mother snoops. Ernie did drugs. It nearly did him in.'

  'Literally?'

  Karl nodded. 'About a year ago, we found him unconscious one Sunday morning. It was a miracle that he survived. Up until that time, my parents were really on his case - study, study, study, study. Do this because it'll look good on your college

  application, do that because it'll look good.
Ernie's a bright guy. But these days being plain bright isn't good enough. When Ernie OD'd, all hell broke loose. My parents were one step from sending him away to boarding school. Then suddenly, they eased up.' The boy snapped his fingers. 'Their therapist probably told them to do it. They wouldn't do anything without talking to the therapist. Even so, Ernie felt that they didn't trust him. So he hid stuff. Mostly weed, but personal stuff, too.'