Chương 3
“Why would the boy have it?”
“He liked it.”
“That’s all?”
Elena looked at the recorder.
“It was a game at first. When he was six, he rang it whenever he wanted something. Water. A book. A different book because the first one was suddenly offensive to him.”
Ortiz’s mouth moved slightly.
“Did his mother approve?”
“She hated the sound.”
“Did she take it away?”
“Several times. He kept finding it.”
“And tonight?”
“He rolled it down the stairs because he knew I would recognize it.”
Ortiz waited.
“He could not reach anyone else,” Elena added.
“Why not call from the room?”
“The intercom was disconnected.”
“Phone?”
“Victoria took his tablet before the gala. She said he had been rude to a guest.”
“What guest?”
“I don’t know.”
Ortiz glanced at her notes.
“You asked Mrs. Ashford about a key.”
“She was holding it.”
“What key?”
“Oliver’s bedroom key. Brass, long stem, oval head. The rooms in the original part of the house still use old locks.”
“Could it have opened another door?”
“Not that one.”
“How do you know?”
“I manage the keys.”
“Where are they normally kept?”
“In the pantry cabinet downstairs. Oliver’s was missing this afternoon.”
“Did you report it?”
“I asked Victoria. She said she had it because she wanted privacy for him during the gala.”
Ortiz leaned back.
“Privacy?”
“Those were her words.”
“And you accepted that?”
Elena looked down at the hospital blanket. A line of soot remained beneath one thumbnail.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she was my employer.”
The answer sounded smaller in the room than it had inside her head.
Ortiz asked about the man near the garden gate. Elena described the jacket, the cap, and the red fuel can. She had not seen his face clearly. She had seen him once before, though she could not immediately place where.
“Take your time.”
“He came to the house in June,” Elena said. “Maybe twice. He used the service entrance.”
“What did he do?”
“Victoria said he was an insurance inspector.”
“Did he inspect anything?”
“He went into the west archive with her. No one else was allowed in.”
“The archive where the fire appears to have started?”
“I don’t know where it started.”
“Neither do I yet.”
Ortiz switched off the recorder but did not stand.
“Mrs. Brooks, there will be a fire investigation. There will also be questions about the child’s safety. You may be contacted by several agencies. Do not discuss what you saw publicly.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not let anyone persuade you that your memory is clearer or less clear than it is.”
Elena looked up.
Ortiz picked up the recorder.
“People get very certain after they talk to lawyers.”
Victoria’s lawyer arrived before midnight.
His name was Colin Pike. Elena knew him from foundation dinners, where he had a habit of eating only the center of a dinner roll and leaving the crust in a neat ring on his plate. He wore a navy suit that smelled faintly of smoke and expensive cologne.
He found Elena near the vending machines.
“Thank God,” he said. “Victoria told me what you did.”
Elena pushed the button for coffee. The machine dropped an empty paper cup and made a grinding sound.
Pike watched it fail.
“You saved Oliver’s life.”
Elena pressed the button again.
“Mrs. Brooks, I need to know what you told the police.”
“You should ask the police.”
“I’m not asking in an adversarial capacity.”
“You are Victoria’s lawyer.”
“I represent the family.”
“You represent Victoria.”
Pike lowered his voice.
“She is his mother.”
The word landed between them.
Elena took the empty cup from the machine and folded the rim inward with her thumb.
“Then she can explain why she had his key.”
Pike’s face did not change, but the warmth left his voice.
“You were exposed to smoke. You were frightened. There was confusion.”
“I saw the key.”
“A key.”
“His key.”
“Did you examine it?”
“I have used it every day for three months.”
Pike glanced toward the treatment rooms.
“Oliver is sedated. Children say strange things after traumatic events. I strongly recommend that you avoid repeating anything he said until medical professionals determine whether he was oriented.”
“He knew where he was.”
“You carried him through a fire. He may attach meaning to fragments.”
“He said Victoria locked him in before the fire started.”
A custodian pushing a mop bucket slowed, then continued past them.
Pike stepped closer.
“You have been treated well by this family.”
Elena looked at him.
He seemed to hear his own sentence too late.
“I mean that you have been trusted,” he said. “Included. You know how vulnerable Oliver is. The last thing he needs is a public scandal created from a child’s confusion and a domestic employee’s assumptions.”
Elena placed the empty cup in the trash.
“Do not call me that like it means I have no eyes.”
Pike straightened.
“No one is questioning your character.”
“You started three sentences ago.”
He left without saying goodbye.
At two in the morning, a social worker informed Elena that Oliver was stable. He had moderate smoke inhalation but no serious burns. He would remain in the pediatric intensive care unit for observation.
“Can I see him?”
“Not tonight.”
“Is Victoria with him?”
The social worker hesitated.
“Law enforcement requested separate contact until an initial safety assessment is completed.”
Relief came so quickly that Elena disliked herself for it.
She sat alone until dawn.
May you like
Outside the hospital windows, delivery trucks began moving through the city. A man in a green uniform changed the liners in the lobby trash cans. Two nurses argued quietly about whose turn it was to pick up breakfast. Ordinary life returned without asking whether the night had earned an exception.
Elena’s phone had survived in her apron pocket, though the screen was cracked. She had forty-three missed calls. Most were from foundation employees. Seven were from reporters whose numbers she did not recognize. One was from her father in Ohio, who had seen footage of the mansion on television.
