repeatedly, and when there was no answer, he let himself in using the key over the porch eave. He found that the house had been severely vandalized. Furnishings were overturned, liquor bottles broken, soap powder had been poured over the floor and the built-ins of the kitchen -'
'Jesus, Kemp,' Vic whispered. His whirling mind fixed on the note: DO YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS? He remembered thinking that note, regardless of anything else, was a disquieting index into the man's psychology. A vicious act of revenge for being dumped. What had Kemp done now? What had he done besides go through their house like a harpy on the warpath?
'Mr. Trenton?'
'I'm here.'
Bannerman cleared his throat as if he were having some difficulty with the next. 'Officer Fisher proceeded upstairs. The upstairs had not been vandalized, but he found traces of - uh, some whitish fluid, most probably semen, on the bedspread of the master bedroom.' And in an unwitting comic ellipsis, he added, 'The bed did not appear to have been slept in.'
'Where's my wife?' Vic shouted into the phone. 'Where's my boy? Don't you have any idea?'
'Take it easy,' Roger said, and put a hand on Vic's shoulder. Roger could afford to say take it easy. His wife was home in bed. So were his twin girls. Vic shook the hand off.
'Mr. Trenton, all I can tell you right now is that a team of State Police detectives are on the scene, and my own men are assisting. Neither the master bedroom nor your son's room appear to have been disturbed.'
'Except for the come on our bed, you mean,' Vic said savagely, and Roger flinched as if struck. His mouth dropped open in a gape.
'Yes, well, that.' Bannerman sounded embarrassed. 'But what I mean is that there are no signs of - uh, violence against person or persons. It looks like straight vandalism.'
'Then where are Donna and Tad?' The harshness was now breaking up into bewilderment, and he felt the sting of helpless little-boy tears at the corners of his eyes.
'At this time we have no idea.'
For just a moment a confusing flash of the dream he had the previous night recurred: Donna and Tad hiding in their cave, menaced by some terrible beast. Then it was gone.
'If you have any idea of who might be behind this, Mr. Trenton -'
'I'm going out to the airport and rent a car,' Vic said. 'I can be there by five o'clock.'
Patiently, Bannerman said: 'Yes, Mr. Trenton. But if your wife and son's disappearance is somehow connected with this vandalism, time could be a very precious commodity. If you have even the slightest idea of who might bear a grudge against you and your wife, either real or imagined ~'
'Kemp,' Vic said in a small, strangled voice. He couldn't hold the tears back now. The tears were going to come. He could feel them running down his face.' Kemp did it, I'm sure it was Kemp. Oh my Christ, what if he's got them?'
'Who is this Kemp?' Bannerman asked. His voice was not embarrassed now; it was sharp and demanding.
He held the phone in his right hand. He put his left hand over his eyes, shutting out Roger, shutting out the hotel room, the sound of the TV, everything. Now he was in blackness, alone with the unsteady sound of his voice and the hot, shifting texture of his tears.
'Steve Kemp,' he said. 'Steven Kemp. He ran a place called the Village Stripper there in town. He's gone now. At least, my wife said he was gone. He and my wife ... Donna ... they ... they had ... well, they had an affair. Banging each other. It didn't last long. She told him it was over. I found out because he wrote me a note. It was ... it was a pretty ugly note. He was getting his own back, I guess. I guess he didn't like to get brushed off much. This ... it sounds like a grander version of that note.'
He rubbed his hand viciously across his eyes, making a galaxy of red shooting stars.
'Maybe he didn't like it that the marriage didn't just blow apart. Or maybe he's just ... just fucked up. Donna said he got fucked up when he lost a tennis match. Wouldn't shake hands over the net. It's a question . . .' Suddenly his voice was gone and he had to dear his throat before it would come back. There was a band around his chest, tightening and loosening, then tightening again. 'I think it's a question of how far he might go. He could have taken them, Bannerman. He's capable of it, from what I know of him.'
There was a silence at the other end; no, not quite silence. The scratching of a pencil on paper. Roger put his hand on Vic's shoulder again, and this time he let it stay, grateful for the warmth. He felt very cold.
'Mr. Trenton, do you have the note Kemp sent you?'
'No. I tore it up. I'm sorry, but under the circumstances
'Was it by any chance printed in block letters?'
'Yes. Yes, it was.'
'Officer Fisher found a note written in block letters on the message board in the kitchen. It said, 'I left something upstairs for you, baby.''
Vic grunted a little. The last faint hope that it might have been someone else - a thief, or maybe just kids - blew away. Come on upstairs and see what I left on the bed. It was
Kemp. The line on the noteminder at home would have fit into Kemp's little note.
'The note seems to indicate that your wife wasn't there when he did it,' Bannerman said, but even in his shocked state, Vic heard a false note in the sheriffs voice.
'She could have walked in while he was still there and you know it,' Vic said dully. 'Back from shopping, back from getting the carb adjusted on her car. Anything.'
'What sort of car did Kemp drive? Do you know?'
'I don't think he had a car. He had a van.'
'Color?'
'I don't know.'
'Mr. Trenton, I'm going to suggest you come on up from Boston. I'm going to suggest that if you rent a car, you take it easy. It would he one hell of a note if your people turned up just fine and you got yourself killed on the Interstate coming up here.'
'Yes, all right.' He didn't want to drive anywhere, fast or slow. He wanted to hide. Better still, he wanted to have the last six days over again.
'Another thing, sir.'
'What's that?'
'On your way up here, try to make a mental list of your wife's friends and acquaintances in the area. It's still perfectly possible that she could be spending the night with someone.'
'Sure.'
'The most important thing to remember right now is that there are no signs of violence.'
'The whole downstairs is ripped to hell,' Vic said. That sounds pretty fucking violent to me.'
'Yes,' Banner said uncomfortably. 'Well.'
'I'll be there,' Vic said. He hung up.
'Vic, I'm sorry,' Roger said.
Vic couldn't meet his old friend's eyes.
