Chương 12
“He also wanted to give you documents.”
“What documents?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
Michael looked directly at him.
“Because if I knew, I would tell you now.”
Arthur almost laughed.
“You’re not suddenly trustworthy because the options got worse.”
Michael flinched.
Morales asked, “Was your father still at the house when Rusk arrived?”
Michael hesitated.
“Yes.”
Arthur froze.
Hannah whispered, “Oh God.”
Morales’s expression sharpened.
“What happened?”
Michael looked at Arthur.
“I don’t know.”
Arthur stepped closer.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that at the useful parts.”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Then who told you?”
“Victoria.”
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
“What did she say?”
Michael rubbed both hands over his face.
“She called me from your house.”
“What time?”
“About eleven.”
Arthur remembered Victoria calling him at ten-thirty.
He had been upstairs.
Daniel had been in bed.
His father, apparently, had been somewhere below.
“What did she say?”
“She said there had been a problem.”
Arthur felt his heartbeat in his throat.
“What problem?”
“Dad saw Rusk.”
Morales said, “During the abduction?”
“Yes.”
Arthur stared at Michael.
“And?”
Michael looked sick.
“He tried to stop them.”
Arthur’s hand dropped from the wall.
His father had been eighty-one.
Barely mobile.
Dying.
Still, Arthur could picture him furious enough to stand.
“What happened to him?”
Michael shook his head.
“She said he fell.”
Arthur’s face hardened.
“Fell where?”
“The back stairs.”
Arthur closed his eyes.
There had been bruising on his father’s body when he died.
A nurse had attributed it to anticoagulants and fragile skin.
Arthur had accepted that because people accept explanations when experts say them calmly.
He opened his eyes.
“My father died two months later.”
Michael nodded.
“You knew he fell.”
“Yes.”
“You never told me.”
“No.”
Arthur looked at Morales.
She was already speaking quietly into her radio.
He turned back.
“Was it an accident?”
Michael’s face changed.
Arthur saw the answer before hearing it.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“I don’t.”
“What did Victoria say?”
“That Rusk pushed past him.”
Arthur stared.
“She said Dad lost his balance.”
“And Daniel saw it.”
Michael said nothing.
Arthur’s voice dropped.
“Daniel saw it.”
“I think so.”
“You think.”
Michael swallowed.
“Victoria said Daniel was screaming about Grandpa.”
Arthur turned away.
The corridor blurred.
For six years he had carried two separate griefs.
His son gone.
His father dead.
He had never imagined they were connected by the same night.
Hannah came closer this time.
Arthur did not stop her.
She stood beside him without touching him.
Morales ended her radio call.
“We’re requesting records from the hospice provider and medical examiner.”
Arthur looked at her.
“There was no autopsy.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“We checked.”
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
“Why wasn’t there one?”
Michael answered.
“Because he was terminal.”
Arthur turned.
“Stop answering questions about my father like you’re helping.”
Michael looked down.
Arthur said, “Was Dad taken back to hospice that night?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“Mercer.”
Arthur frowned.
“The attorney.”
“Yes.”
“Mercer was there too?”
Michael nodded.
Arthur felt anger sharpen.
“How many people were in my house while I was upstairs?”
“I don’t know.”
Arthur nearly shouted.
Instead he laughed once.
A broken sound.
Hannah said, “Arthur.”
He looked at her.
She shook her head gently.
Not now.
Not here.
Arthur looked toward Daniel’s door.
She was right.
Again, that irritated him.
Michael said quietly, “That’s why Victoria kept asking what he remembered.”
Arthur turned.
“Because Daniel saw your father fall.”
“Maybe.”
“No.”
Arthur shook his head.
“That’s not enough for six years.”
Michael’s eyes lifted.
“I know.”
“What else?”
Michael hesitated.
Arthur saw it.
“There’s more.”
Michael’s mouth tightened.
Morales stepped nearer.
“What else?”
Michael lowered his voice.
“Victoria said Daniel kept talking about a red folder.”
Arthur stared at him.
“What red folder?”
“I never saw it.”
“Whose?”
“Dad’s.”
Arthur’s mind went to the old man’s habits.
Folders by color.
Blue for litigation.
Green for property.
Yellow for insurance.
Red for matters he called terminal decisions.
Arthur had mocked the phrase when he was younger.
His father had not laughed.
Arthur said, “What was in it?”
Michael shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“You just remembered another useful thing.”
“I didn’t think it mattered until now.”
“It mattered enough for Victoria to imprison a child.”
Michael flinched.
Morales said, “What did she say about it?”
“That Daniel had it.”
Arthur frowned.
“After the abduction?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
Michael looked toward the room.
“She thought Dad gave it to him.”
Arthur’s chest tightened.
“For safekeeping?”
“Maybe.”
Arthur stared at the door.
Daniel had been eight.
His father had been dying.
A red folder.
A frightened boy.
A fall on the back stairs.
Then disappearance.
Arthur suddenly remembered something Daniel used to do when adults gave him papers.
He folded them.
Not neatly.
Into squares.
Then hid them in books because he believed books were safer than drawers.
Arthur turned to Hannah.
“The books.”
She frowned.
“What?”
“Daniel said Victoria brought him books.”
Hannah’s face changed.
Michael looked confused.
Arthur opened Daniel’s door.
The boy was sitting up in bed.
Maya Chen was beside him, showing him something on a tablet.
Daniel looked toward Arthur immediately.
“What happened?”
Arthur forced his face to soften.
“Nothing you need to fix.”
Daniel studied him.
Arthur came closer.
“Can I ask you one thing?”
Maya looked at him.
“Keep it simple.”
Arthur nodded.
Daniel waited.
“You said Victoria brought you books.”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember any from the beginning?”
Daniel frowned.
“Beginning where?”
Arthur stopped himself.
“The first place.”
Daniel’s eyes changed.
He looked down at the blanket.
Arthur almost withdrew the question.
Then Daniel said, “There was one about ships.”
Arthur’s heart quickened.
“What kind?”
“Old ships.”
“Did you keep it?”
Daniel looked at him.
“For a while.”
Arthur sat beside the bed.
“What happened to it?”
“Victoria took it.”
“Why?”
Daniel rubbed his thumb against the blanket seam.
“Because I ripped the cover.”
May you like
Arthur looked at Maya.
She stayed silent.
