The Lost Boys

by Faye Kellerman

  “What makes you think that any of them know something? What if Bertram is simply lost?”

  “Okay, let me spell it out for you. Option one: he is lost in the woods. If he’s lost, we’ll eventually find him. What the outcome will be, I don’t know. It depends how long it takes us to locate the poor man. The woods can be inaccessible, disorienting especially in the summer when everything is thick with foliage. And it’s chilly at night. Animals are out, animals are active, and they’re always looking for food. It could go bad in a lot of different ways, so our best option is to soldier on until we’re sure we can’t find him.

  “The second option: he got lost, found the main road, and picked up a random ride. Less likely because there were cops all around the area within an hour after he disappeared. We’d be more likely to spot him than a random stranger, but it could happen. That could also go bad really quickly.

  “The third option? He isn’t lost at all but he arranged to meet someone when the field trip stopped at the diner. If that’s the case, we need to find out what was going on in his life. And the last option is …”

  A hesitation.

  “He was kidnapped for ransom. His parents are rich and money is always a good motive. We’re looking into all of the possibilities at the same time. I understand there’s a group meeting going on right now. Detective McAdams and I would like to attend and address the residents. It would be good to answer their questions. I’m sure they have a lot of them. Make sense?”

  Lewis didn’t answer. He placed his hands on the desk, then tented them and brought them to his face, fingers grazing his chin.

  Decker said, “What’s the problem?”

  “They’re traumatized. They may be hesitant with the police.”

  Decker said, “I worked Juvenile and Sex Crimes for many years. I’m not saying I am a licensed psychologist, but I do have experience with trauma. Talking to the residents will not only help us, it’ll help you when you talk to Bertram’s parents.”

  “I’m not sure about that, but we’ll give it a try.” Lewis stood up. “I’ll take you to the auditorium. Give me about fifteen minutes to talk to Dr. Mannet and fill her in. She’ll set something up.”

  “What’s the doctor’s training?” McAdams said.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Do you find that question an odd one?”

  “A little, I suppose. But then again, you’re a detective, so maybe it makes some sense.” A pause. “She’s a licensed clinical psychologist. She’s been with us for four years.”

  Decker stood up. “Bertram has been missing for about twenty-four hours. That’s disturbing. Right now, every minute counts. We need to move.”

  “What is it that I’ve heard? If you don’t solve something within forty-eight hours, your chances of solving the crime deeply diminish?”

  “We don’t know if a crime has been committed,” Decker said. “Let’s go.”

  THE AUDITORIUM WAS two tiers of seating with a large flat area in front to accommodate residents with walkers and wheelchairs. The participants seemed between the ages of twenty and sixty with an equal distribution of males and females. They ran the gamut of phenotypes—from syndromed faces to those whose outward appearance would blend into any population.

  Dr. Georgia Mannet, the house psychologist, was thin, with a wrinkled face and a prominent chin. She had short gray hair cut helmet style and watery blue eyes. Her doctor’s coat was light blue and she wore her ID on a red rope around her neck. Decker and McAdams sat on the stage with Mannet between them. There were two microphones in the middle and glasses of water for all of them. Dr. Mannet introduced Decker and Tyler as police officers, and Decker noticed apprehension in some of the eyes.

  Empathy was necessary to gain trust. And indeed, Decker really felt bad for them. He started out with how frightening Bertram’s disappearance must be for all of them. The unknown was always scary. That was why the police had assigned many people to go out and look for Bertram. But the police needed their help. For instance, was Bertram lost, or did he run away on purpose? That was why it was very important for everyone to tell the police anything that they knew or heard about Bertram. Any information—no matter how small. And no one would get into trouble no matter what they told the police.

  “Please,” Decker said. “Does anyone here know what happened to Bertram Lanz?”

  He was met with resounding silence. In any audience, this was usually the case. Starts were slow until someone got the ball rolling.

  “Okay, let’s start again. Who are Bertram’s friends?” Looks all the way around, but no one said a word—not even a whisper. “Did he have friends?”

  No response. Of course, no one wanted to be a tattletale. Better to start on neutral ground.

  “Does anyone know what Bertram liked to do?”

  A moment passed and a reticent hand inched upward. It belonged to a man with Down syndrome who looked around forty. Gray was creeping into his dark hair. He was dressed in a short-sleeved plaid shirt and jeans. He sat in the middle of the second row.

  Decker said, “Yes, thank you. What’s your name?”

  “Ross.”

  “Hi, Ross. Do you know what Bertram liked to do?”

  Ross stood up. Decker couldn’t understand him. Georgia Mannet was about to speak, but McAdams stepped in. That was good. It was helpful for the residents to know that the police literally understood them.

  McAdams answered, “What did he do on his iPad, Ross?” The man shrugged. Silence ensued. Tyler stepped into the void. He said, “I like to play games on my computer. Did Bertram play games on his iPad?”

  Another hand came up: a man in his thirties who sat in a wheelchair. His fingers looked knotted as if he had arthritis. “Space Mission: Combat Control.”

  Decker said, “What’s your name, please?”

  “James.”

  “Nice to meet you, James,” Decker said. “Bertram played Space Mission: Combat Control on his computer?”

  “iPad.”

  “Sorry. Bertram played Space Mission: Combat Control on his iPad,” Decker said.

  “Yes.”

  April, the resident from this morning, shouted out something. McAdams repeated, “Martian Invaders Five.”

  “Thank you, April,” Decker said. “See, this is very, very helpful. You all know so much about Bertram.”

  Ross raised his hand again. Decker acknowledged him and the man said, “I’m Bertram’s friend.”

  Decker said. “I’m sure you’re a very good friend to have.” Whispering to McAdams, “We’ll talk to him later.”

  Ross said something and McAdams said, “I am sure you have a lot of friends, Ross.” He looked at the group. “Was anyone else Bertram’s friend?”

  Another hand came up—a woman in her early to mid-thirties. Wearing a yellow sundress with a white sweater, she had blond hair that fell to her shoulders. She had studs in her ears, and a gold chain graced the notch of her throat. “My name is Colette. Bertram was lonely.”

  “Nice to meet you, Colette,” Decker said. “Why do you think Bertram was lonely?”

  “He sat by himself.”

  Ross said, “Not all the time.”

  “But some of the time.”

  April said something. McAdams said, “He missed his girlfriend?” When she nodded, he said, “This is Kathrine?”

  Another nod.

  Colette said, “He liked Nurse Schulung. But she’s not here anymore.”

  Ross said something, and McAdams said, “She talked to him with funny words?”

  James said, “She talked in German. They talked in German. Bertram knew German.”

  “He did know German,” Decker said. “Did he tell you he lived in Germany, James?”

  “Once he said it.”

  The conversation stopped. Decker licked his lips and smoothed his mustache—a habit he often fell back on when he was trying to buy time. “Were they friends, Nurse Schulung and Bertram?” When he got no response, he turned to Ro
ss. “What do you think? Were Nurse Schulung and Bertram friends?”

  The man looked lost in thought. “Maybe.”

  Colette said, “I think they were friends.”

  April said, “But he missed Kathrine.”

  A few moments passed, and then James said, “I’m hungry.”

  Dr. Mannet looked at her watch. “Break time was forty minutes ago.”

  Decker said, “I understand.”

  Dr. Lewis said, “You’re done, then?”

  “For the time being, yeah. Let’s get everyone fed. No one works well on an empty stomach.”

  CHAPTER 5

  AS SOON AS they walked out of the auditorium and into the hallway, Decker said, “This is the number we have for Elsie Schulung. If she’s still not answering, call up the local police and ask them to stop by her house just to make sure she’s okay. We need to talk to her.”

  “How far does she live from here?”

  “About a half hour away.”

  McAdams regarded his watch. It was almost five in the afternoon. “We still have some daylight. When do you want to leave?”

  “Around six. I want to talk to the residents who spoke up. See if I can get more one-on-one. Oh, and call up Bertram’s phone carrier. Ask if someone there can pull up Lanz’s records.”

  “What about the paperwork?”

  “It’ll come. Sometimes the company will accept verbal requests from the police when the MP is a compromised adult. Bertram’s email access will take longer. But call up the service provider anyway even if they won’t do it without paperwork. Tell whoever you talk to that there is exigency.”

  “No prob. Where should I meet you when I’m done, boss?”

  “Try the dining hall first. If you don’t find me, ask around. Do you have a Tylenol?”

  McAdams dislodged his backpack from his shoulders. “I could use something myself. I might be dehydrated.” He pulled out a plastic bottle of Tylenol followed by a blended coffee drink in a can. “I could probably use a little caffeine. Want one?”

  “Any water?”

  “Just a thermos that I drink from directly. Sorry.”

  “I’m sure there’s water in the dining hall.” Decker swallowed the tablets dry and rubbed his forehead. “I know that most Missing Persons cases end up all right. But the ones that don’t … there’s always that pressure to get there before it’s too late. Constantly asking yourself, are you overlooking anything that might save a life? At least with Homicide, you have a little time to think. Or maybe it’s just my age finally catching up with me.”

  McAdams put his hand on Decker’s shoulder. “I still think you’ve got a lot of professional time left in those old bones of yours.”

  Decker smiled. “See you in a bit.” Waiting for the pills to kick in, he headed off to interview some very scared people.

  THE DINING HALL was abuzz with conversation. The room held about fifteen round tables, each one big enough for four to six cushioned folding chairs. Some tables were completely occupied. Others were empty. Afternoon sunlight filtered in through enormous picture windows shaded with transparent mesh, but the room lights were also on. There was a long buffet table filled with hot snacks—anything from soup to mini-pizzas. There were also big bowls filled with power bars, bags of potato chips and pretzels, packets of cookies, and small individual containers of mixed nuts. Decker grabbed a water from the cooler, looked around, and found James and Ross, seated by themselves and in intense conversation. He walked over to the table and the talking stopped.

  “Mind if I join you?” Decker sat without waiting for permission. “Thank you for your help, gentlemen.” No answer. “Is there anything else you might want to tell me about Bertram?”

  After a silence, James finally said, “He didn’t like it here.”

  Decker uncapped a water bottle. “He told you that?”

  He nodded. “He didn’t play any of the games or go to group time or bingo or movie night.”

  Ross said, “I like group time.”

  “You do?” Decker said. “Why do you like group time?”

  “Snacks.” Ross let go with a smile that lit up his face.

  “Snacks are good.” Decker turned back to James. “Colette also thought Bertram was lonely.”

  “Yes,” James said. “He was lonely.”

  Decker said, “But he talked a lot to Nurse Schulung.”

  “Sometimes.”

  Ross said, “He was sad when she left.”

  “How so?”

  “He told me: ‘I’m sad that Nurse Schulung left.’”

  Decker gave a small smile. Direct was the best. “I understand that Bertram had a girlfriend from where he used to live before he came to Loving Care.”

  “He did.” James nodded. “He said they wanted to get married, but they said no.”

  “Who said no?”

  “His parents.”

  “Yes,” Ross told him. “They’re rich.”

  “Who’s rich? Bertram’s parents?”

  Ross nodded.

  “Who told you Bertram’s parents were rich?”

  “Bertram did.”

  Decker said, “Did you ever meet Bertram’s parents?”

  “No,” Ross said.

  James said, “They live far away.”

  “That’s why he was sad,” Ross said.

  “He was sad being away from his parents?” Decker asked. When there was no response, he said, “Did Bertram ever talk about leaving Loving Care?”

  “Where would he go?” James asked.

  “Maybe he’d go visit Nurse Schulung?” Decker said.

  Both men gave back blank stares. James said, “How would he get there? He didn’t ride a bike.”

  Decker decided that this line of questioning was a dead end. He veered in a different direction. “You told me that Bertram didn’t like to participate in group time or movie night. Is that right?” Two nods. “But he went on the field trip to the woods. Did they make him go, or did he want to go?”

  James said, “They couldn’t make him go on a trip. That’s against the rules.”

  “Then he wanted to go?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Was he excited to go on the trip?”

  James screwed up his body in a shrug. “He sat with Colette on the bus. I saw them talking.”

  “Thanks for telling me that.” Decker looked for Colette, eyes scanning the dining hall. “I don’t see her. Do you know where she’d be if she didn’t come in for snacks?”

  “In her room,” James said.

  “Okay. I’ll check for her in her room.”

  “Boss?” At the sound of McAdams’s voice, Decker turned around. The kid crooked a finger in his direction.

  “Excuse me, gentlemen. And thanks for your help.”

  “You’re welcome,” they replied in unison.

  Polite men. Someone had taught them well.

  “NO ANSWER ON Elsie Schulung’s cell,” McAdams said. “It goes to voice mail. I gave local police the address and asked them to take a look around. I gave them your phone number and mine as well. They said they’d call me as soon as they checked out the property.”

  “Good. What about the phone records?”

  “A supervisor told me to scan over the paperwork and she would help expedite the process. Radar said he’ll take care of it.”

  “Thanks. Good work. I want to talk to Colette.”

  “The blonde wearing the sundress?”

  “Yes. She was sitting next to Bertram on the bus. James said they were talking. Let me see what she has to say, and then we’ll interview Elsie Schulung when we find her.”

  “We’d better make it quick, boss. We’re needed back in Greenbury.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “They found a body.”

  Decker’s heart sank for a second. Then he said, “‘A body’—meaning it’s not Bertram.”

  “Old bones but with some desiccated flesh and clothing on him.”

  “It’s a him?�
��

  “That’s what Butterfield called the remains. He thinks it may be related to a cold case that happened around ten years ago.”

  “I wasn’t at Greenbury ten years ago, but I did read up on all the local cold cases when I arrived. The only one that sticks out in my head was a camping trip. Three guys went out to the woods and never came back. They were students at the Five Colleges.”

  “Right you are. They attended Duxbury. They were sophomores.”

  Decker looked upward, trying to jog the memory. “One was Anderson. First name was Zac?”

  “Zeke Anderson. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be. There weren’t that many open files here. I don’t remember the names of the other two students.”

  McAdams checked his notes. “Bennett McCrae and Maxwell Velasquez.”

  “Do you remember anything about the case? You’ve been at Greenbury longer than me.”

  “I came a year before you arrived. But I do remember talk about it—how three people could just disappear. The details were fresher back then. Radar wants us back—ASAP.”

  “Right. But as long as we’re here, I do want to talk to Colette. Bertram’s still missing. If the bones have been there for ten years, they’ll keep another hour.”

  THE DOOR WAS wide open. Decker peeked inside. Colette’s room was as neat in appearance as the woman herself. There was a desk with a pen, a pencil, blank paper, and a vase holding a single red rose. There was a green-and-pink chair on which a stuffed panda sat. A bookcase held candles, several photographs inside sunflower frames, and a variety of small stuffed animals. She was sitting on a floral comforter on her bed, nestled between mounds of brightly colored pillows, studying her laptop. She had changed from her yellow sundress to a green-and-pink striped long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans. Her feet were bare. She looked up when Decker knocked on a yellow wall. She gave them a wide smile and leaped off the bed. “Come in, come in.”

  Decker crossed the threshold. “What a pretty room you have.”

  “Thank you.” She beamed. “I did it myself.”

  “It’s really lovely!” Decker gave her a thumbs-up. “Can I ask you a few more questions, Colette?”