The Possession of Paavo Deshin

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The Possession of Paavo Deshin Page 6

by Kristine Kathryn Rusch


  “This is Paavo Deshin,” Flint said. “You know him as Enrique Grazian. And those people hovering in the back there, that’s Ishani and Károly Grazian. They tried to kidnap the boy today. Watch his reaction to them.”

  Flint ran the images, but didn’t look at them. The little boy’s anguished face was already burned into his memory. That child’s reaction was deeper than fear of strangers. Something about these people terrified him.

  Van Alen swore softly. She crossed her arms and looked away.

  “We don’t know what caused that reaction,” she said. “Maybe Luc Deshin told that boy that anyone who tried to take him away was going to kill him.”

  “Maybe,” Flint agreed. “Or maybe Deshin is setting up the adoption today to make sure he won’t lose his child to the Grazians.”

  “You don’t like them, do you, Miles?” Van Alen asked.

  “The Grazians?” Flint asked. “I don’t know them. But the fact that they left that child behind bothers me. I see nothing in the record that tells me why they did. Their excuse is flimsy. They should have Disappeared with him.”

  Van Alen studied him for a moment. The image on the screen to her side had frozen on Paavo Dashin’s terrified face. But she had turned enough in her chair so that she didn’t have to look at him.

  Obviously, his expression did disturb her, and she wasn’t going to think about it. She thought her assault on the treaty system was more important than one young child.

  “You’re not going to tell me where they are, are you, Miles?” she asked.

  “I don’t know where they are,” he said. “I’ve been trying to track them for hours.”

  “Track?” she asked, picking up on the word. She knew he hated Trackers.

  “Yeah,” he said. “The Grazians are no longer in any danger, so I figure there’s no reason to be careful.”

  Her lips thinned.

  “I’m working for the Aristotle Academy,” he said. “They want to protect Paavo.”

  “I’d like to hire you as well,” Van Alen said. “Maybe get you to speed up, find them quickly, and get them to court tonight.”

  He glanced at the image. The little boy had already wormed his way into Flint’s heart.

  “How can bringing them to court make things worse?” she asked. “It might settle everything.”

  “It might,” Flint said.

  “Luc Deshin is a criminal,” Van Alen said.

  “So, technically, are the Grazians,” Flint said. “The court did not invalidate the laws of Sava. It just pardoned all of the people trapped in that cycle.”

  She stood. Her body blocked the image of Paavo’s face. “I’m going to act in the Grazians’ interests whether they come to court or not,” she said.

  Of course she was. And she might be able to get her stay. It wouldn’t hurt to tell her where the Grazians were, if he could find them.

  And he probably could by eight o’clock that evening.

  “If I find them,” he said, “I promise I’ll let you know.”

  “But you won’t contact them yourself, will you?” Van Alen said.

  “All I’ve been hired to do is locate them,” Flint said. “By the Aristotle Academy and now by you. You’re still paying my full fee and expenses, by the way.”

  She grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She walked around the image. Then she stopped, her hand on the door.

  “That child’s future is really none of our business, you know,” she said. “We should just do our jobs. Mine is to act in his parents’ best interest. Yours is to find them. What happens after that isn’t up to us.”

  Flint bit back his initial response. He just nodded, and said, “I know.”

  She smiled at him, as if she approved of what he said, and then she let herself out the door.

  He sighed and sank into his chair, looking at Paavo Deshin’s terrified face. If Flint had been the kind of man who believed in doing his job and nothing else, he would still be a police detective, a man who handed children like Paavo Deshin over to alien governments to answer for their parents’ crimes.

  Van Alen was right; the treaty system was unfair. Flint hated it too. But he wasn’t willing to sacrifice one little boy’s future to pursue a court case that might or might not change the way the universe worked.

  If he found the Grazians, he would tell Van Alen so that the Grazians could show up to court. But he would show up too. And he would speak up if he felt it necessary.

  The question was, what side would he step in for?

  He still wasn’t sure.

  But, looking at Paavo’s tear-streaked face, he knew who he would defend.

  ***

  Luc’s people couldn’t find the Grazians. He paced his office, feeling frustrated, feeling pressured.

  Feeling frightened.

  These people had damaged his son. Now he would have to take the boy to specialists just to have those links shut down. Paavo hated doctors—Paavo hated anything outside of routine.

  Luc used to think all of Paavo’s tics came from his great intelligence. Now he wondered if the Grazians hadn’t caused those tics, with their programmed contacts, the adult communications.

  Luc shuddered. Part of him was relieved his people hadn’t found the Grazians. For them to show up dead on this day, after all of the discoveries, after the contact with Paavo, would confirm what people had suspected for more than a decade:

  There was a darkness to Luc’s business. One he tolerated of necessity.

  One he used when he had to.

  Only he had never used it for personal gain. And while this wasn’t personal gain, it was personal.

  It was revenge.

  Revenge and fear and all of those things he never admitted to. He wanted those people to pay for contacting his child. For hurting his child.

  He wanted to hurt them back.

  And he still might. But he wouldn’t do so on this day. He had an adoption to finish.

  That might be enough: An adoption, shutting off the links, repairing poor Paavo as best as possible.

  Then again, it might not. Károly Grazian had designed links. What else had he put into Luc’s son? What else could he trigger?

  And why?

  That was what bothered Luc the most. Why did the Grazians torment the child when they had given him up in the first place?

  Luc continued to pace, unable to think about his work or anything else. Anything except these two horrible people and Paavo. Paavo’s fear-filled eyes.

  Luc clenched his fists. In the morning, no matter what the outcome of the adoption, he would hire a Retrieval Artist. He would find those two horrible people. Once he had their location, he would figure out how to take care of them.

  He wouldn’t threaten them. That was too unsophisticated. He wouldn’t force them to leave Armstrong either, because they could still contact Paavo through modified links.

  He would figure out a way to shut the Grazians down. And he would do it with cold calculation. Not this edge of panic.

  He would make sure they never harmed his son again.

  ***

  After Van Alen left, Flint continued his search for the Grazians. The program he had designed had followed them from the port to one of the older sections of Armstrong—although not as old as this section.

  They had gone to a series of low-rent hotels, always coming out looking discouraged.

  Even the lowest-rent hotels wanted some form of identification or a great deal of money. Flint glanced at the time stamp. All of this had happened four days before.

  Before Van Alen had shown up, he would have gone to the hotels himself, figuring he had time to continue his search, maybe over a couple of days. He would have learned their new name or the barrier to staying in some of those hotels. He would have gathered a great deal of information.

  But he didn’t have that luxury. So he let the program continue, glancing idly at it as he conducted another bit of research.

  This one w
as for him. He examined old hospital records, as well as records from the foster care system. He had already found Paavo’s birth certificate. He wanted to find more. He wanted to see if the name Grazian turned up before they left on their so-called vacation.

  It did. One of the local hospitals had a child-rearing program, and Ishani Grazian had registered for it. She specifically asked for a program for difficult children, which did not exist, although the program coordinator made note of it.

  Ishani Grazian was referred to a mental health specialist. She was told he specialized in difficult children. He didn’t; he specialized in inadequate parents.

  Flint leaned back in his chair. How could a child who, at that time was only a few months old, be difficult? He had raised a baby from birth to toddler; all of them were difficult. Babies cried, and parents got no sleep. Some babies had health problems, which made the situation worse.

  But Paavo—then Enrique Grazian—hadn’t had health issues. He was a very healthy baby. But something had gone wrong.

  The other program pinged Flint. He looked up. The trail had stopped at one of the low-rent hotels. He went back several hours and scanned through the images.

  The Grazians had hurried to the hotel after leaving the Aristotle Academy. Ishani Grazian had been crying. Her husband cradled her the entire way, his arm around her.

  Flint had the sense that Károly Grazian wasn’t trying to stop her tears, but to keep her face away from the cameras.

  He knew they had broken the law.

  Flint examined all of the cameras around the low-rent hotel. He found no evidence that the Grazians had left. They were probably holed up inside, planning what to do next.

  He sighed. He had promised Van Alen he would let her know that he had found them.

  He had also made the same promise to Selah Rutledge.

  He contacted both women, and waited for them to tell him what they wanted him to do next.

  ***

  Gerda fed Paavo a dinner he didn’t want, and then made him dress in his best outfit. It was a blue suit with a long coat that made him seem taller than he was.

  When he came out of his room in that suit, wearing his shiny shoes, his hair neatly combed, he looked older than he ever had.

  She put an arm around him, pulling him close. He leaned against her for an instant, then straightened, trying to be adult.

  She had already explained to him that he was going to go with her to court. They would have bodyguards so that no one could go after Paavo when he left the house. Still, she had been reluctant to take him out of this safe place, but Luc insisted.

  The lawyer Luc hired figured it would be best if Paavo was there, so that the judge could see just how much the Deshins loved him.

  He won’t be some generic child, Luc said. The court will see that he’s our child. They’ll see how special he is, and how much he needs us.

  Paavo slipped his hand in hers. He looked up at her. She gave him her best smile. She didn’t want him to know how nervous she was.

  Yes, they loved him. Yes, they had cared for him since he was six months old. Yes, they had given him the best life they possibly could.

  But she knew what everyone in Armstrong said about Luc. He had been arrested half a dozen times, but he had never been convicted. He always stayed on the right side of the law, letting the people around him do the difficult work.

  If the lawyer for the other side got any of those people to testify, things could go horribly wrong.

  “Something’s really bad, isn’t it, Mommy?” Paavo asked, echoing her thoughts. Every time he did that, it unnerved her.

  “Things could be better,” she said. Then she noted that he had called her “Mommy,” something he hadn’t done in a very long time.

  She hugged him again.

  “But we’ll get through it,” she said to him. “We always do.”

  ***

  The courthouse was a large building in Armstrong’s City Center. There actually wasn’t one courthouse but several, all of them attached to Police Headquarters or to the jail.

  It always made Luc Deshin’s heart speed up to go inside any of the courtrooms. He had been sixteen and in trouble the first time he had come here. Somehow, without a lawyer, he had talked his way out.

  But that experience stuck with him. Every time he walked through the faux glass doors into the faux marble corridor, he felt sixteen again and out of his depth. This time, he had a pretty young lawyer beside him.

  Celestine Gonzalez was the lawyer that Máirtín Oberholtz had recommended. Luc researched her and was pleased; she was young, but she had won every difficult case she’d been asked to handle.

  Luc himself didn’t intimidate her. When he had entered her office, already angry at Máirtín, she had smiled at Luc.

  I see you’ve met the new boss, she said with a twinkle in her eye. That one comment had relaxed Luc. Her later analysis had calmed him as well.

  You have a certain reputation in this town, she had said. I am going to neutralize it. This case will be about the loving home you have provided for Paavo, and how that boy has thrived under your care. And from what I can tell, I won’t be stretching any points. Before you got here, I spoke with the administrators of the Aristotle Academy. You have quite a special child there, one which they say couldn’t be as special as he is without nurturing.

  She had flattered Luc and relaxed him at the same time. He only wished she could do the same thing now.

  They had one of the family law courtrooms on the second floor. It had been designed in something called the Federal Style—all columns and faux marble and simple wooden-appearing benches, with a matching balcony. The judge’s bench was high, with a witness stand to the right. The jury box—empty for this case—stood to the left. It had the most comfortable chairs in the room.

  Luc and Gonzalez sat behind one of the tables up front. The other was reserved for the Grazians, should they show, or their lawyer. Gonzalez had already informed Luc that they did have a lawyer, and she was trying to slow down the proceedings, something he hadn’t wanted.

  Gerda hadn’t arrived yet, which worried him. He wanted her here now. He had already checked with her—she had left just a few minutes ago. The bodyguards were with her. He had put his best men beside her and Paavo. He had robotic guards following, as well as a few of his seedier employees keeping the perimeter.

  If the Grazians chose to attack his son on the way to the courthouse, they would never make it inside.

  But Luc did know better than to go after them here.

  The hearing was scheduled for eight sharp. It was a few minutes before, and so far, the Grazians hadn’t shown up. Neither had their lawyer.

  A slender man with curly blond hair slipped into the back. He had the palest skin Luc had ever seen and eyes so blue they seemed artificial. He nodded once, as if he knew who Luc was, then sank into one of the hard seats.

  But no one else followed him inside.

  “What if they don’t come?” Luc asked Gonzalez.

  “We make our petition, and we win,” she said. “It’ll be uncontested.”

  She had been facing forward. As she spoke, she glanced back at the door and saw the blond man.

  “You didn’t hire a Retrieval Artist, did you?” she asked Luc quietly.

  “No.” He didn’t tell her that he planned to do so if the Grazians didn’t show themselves this evening.

  “Hmm.” She smiled at the man behind them. “What’s your interest in this, Miles?”

  “I’m just an observer, Celestine,” said the man in the back.

  “Who’s that?” Luc asked.

  “A former client,” she said. “And an excellent Retrieval Artist.”

  The panic rose inside Luc again and he had to let out a slow breath to knock it back. It didn’t matter that a Retrieval Artist was here. It didn’t matter if the Grazians showed up. It didn’t even matter if the adoption failed.

  Luc had contingency plan after contingency plan. He would ma
ke sure that no one took his son from him.

  Not ever.

  ***

  Gerda clutched Paavo’s hand as they hurried up the marble steps inside the courthouse. The place was empty, and that unnerved her. She turned to the guards who were a few steps behind them.

  “Keep an eye out,” she said.

  For what, she wasn’t certain.

  Paavo was getting winded. She had to slow down so that he could keep up.

  “I thought you said we were going to meet Dad.” He gasped the words.

  “We are,” she said. “He’s in a room at the top of the stairs.”

  Or so she hoped. She reached the top of the stairs and pushed open the double doors. To her relief, Luc stood at the front of the courtroom with a pretty dark-haired woman beside him.

  She had to be the lawyer. She seemed awfully young to have their entire family’s fate in her hands.

  Paavo let go of Gerda and ran to his dad. He wrapped his arms around Luc, and to her surprise, Luc let him. Luc kept one hand on Paavo’s head, holding him close, but looked at Gerda.

  For the first time in her memory, her husband looked shaken.

  “Is everything all right?” she mouthed.

  He shrugged.

  He didn’t know. That unsettled her even more.

  “All rise,” someone said from the front. A man not too far from Gerda stood. He was blond and pale. She had never seen him before.

  He was the only other person in the courtroom, and she knew he wasn’t Károly Grazian.

  “You and Paavo should sit behind us,” the lawyer said.

  Luc disengaged Paavo. Gerda hurried to the front and took her son’s hand as the judge entered.

  She was older than everyone in the room combined. Or she had enhanced herself to look that way. She had steel gray hair, a thin but lined face, and a pinched mouth.

  Gerda’s breath caught in her throat. She had to trust that woman? She didn’t want to think about it. She put her arm around Paavo’s shoulder and pulled him gently into the bench along with her.

 

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