'His parents?'
'They weren't home. Left him in charge of his brother. Said they were only gone a few minutes.'
'Anyone popped for it?'
'No. No arrests. No suspects, even.'
'We don't treat only direct child abuse victims here,' Lily put in, anger edging her voice, like I was a politician questioning her program. 'Children who've witnessed horrible violence to a loved one…a rape, a murder…they're as traumatized by it as if it happened to them. That's why Luke's here.'
'He lives at home?'
Storm answered me. 'No. His parents were convicted of inadequate guardianship. Turns out they were gone almost two days, not a few minutes like they'd said. And they were very secretive, hostile. Wolfe's unit found out the dead baby wasn't really theirs. Not legally theirs. One of those private placement adoptions, but it never went to a court. The lawyer who handled it got indicted for baby-selling. Luke's been in foster care for about two months.'
'And you still don't know who killed the baby?'
'Wolfe says she knows.' Something in Lily's voice.
'So what's for me?'
'Last week, we had a TV crew here. They were filming a documentary about child abuse. We gave them permission, under strict conditions. Told them which rooms they could work in, which rooms to stay out of. One of them, this real smart young man, some producer-something-or-other, he took a cameraman into the back, where Luke was playing. When Luke saw the camera, he went catatonic. Froze. The paramedics stuck a hypo in his arm and he didn't even flinch.'
'What happened?'
'He came out of it. Maybe an hour later. When I told him he'd been in a trance, he got very angry. Denied the whole thing. Even told us what he'd been doing during that time. Like it never happened.'
I watched the kid, adding it up.
'Burke, you know what it means, don't you?' Lily asked.
I ignored her question. 'Can I talk to him?'
'Let's try,' she said, opening the door to the playroom.
20
They worked it like a drill team. Lily flashed something to Immaculata, who immediately drew Luke close to her as Storm muscled the other kids out of the room.
'Hi, Mac,' I said. 'Who's your pal?'
'This is Luke,' she said gravely, one hand on his shoulder, the long, lacquered nails spilling against his chest. Talons, guarding.
The kid's eyes were pearly darkness. 'What's your name?' he asked me, trembly thread in his voice.
'Burke.'
'How do you spell that?'
I told him.
The kid's eyes went thoughtful, rolled up into his head, snapped right back. 'Our names are linked,' he said.
'What do you mean?'
'They have the same letters. U. K. E. In both our names. Maybe they have the same root. Mine is from the Bible. Is there a Burke in the Bible?'
'Not by that name.'
'Are you Immaculata's friend?'
'She is my brother's wife.'
'Max is your brother?'
'Yes.'
'It's true,' Mac assured him.
'Immaculata is my friend.'
'I know. That means you're my friend too.'
His eyes flickered again, straightened. 'Do you know any monsters?' I hunkered down next to him, getting my eyes on the same level.
'Yeah, I know some.'
'Do you fight them?'
'I have.'
'Do you win?'
'Sometimes.'
