Transgressions

'Well, again. That's highly confidential without, of course, a court order.'

When he put the thermos down the young woman, probably still a teenager Peter thought, put her chilly hands over Gosden's eyes. He flinched, then forced a smile.

'I wonder who this could be? I know! Britney Spears.'

The girl took her hands away. 'Ta-da!' She pirouetted for them, mittens flopping, and looked speculatively at Peter.

'How about that?' Gosden said. 'It's Sydney Nova!' He glanced at his watch and said with a show of dismay, 'Sydney, wouldn't you know it, I'm running late. 'Fraid I don't have time for a song today.' He closed his lunchbox and got up from the bench, glancing at Peter. 'If you'll excuse me, I do have a seminar with our psych-tech trainees. I'm sorry I can't be of more help.'

'Thanks for your time, Doctor.'

Sydney Nova leaned on the back of the bench as Gosden walked away, giving her hair a couple of tosses like a frisky colt.

'You don't have to run off, do you?' she said to Peter. 'I heard what, I mean who, you and Goz were talking about.'

'Did you know Valerie Angelus?'

Sydney held up two joined fingers, indicating the closeness of their relationship. 'When she's around, I mean. Do you have a cigarette I can bum?'

'Don't smoke.'

'Got a name?'

'Peter.'

'Cop, huh? You're yummy for a cop, Pete.'

'Thanks. I guess.'

Sydney had a way of whistling softly as a space filler. She continued to look Peter over.

'Yeah, Val and I talk a lot when she's here. She trusts me. We tell each other our dirty little secrets. Did you know she was a famous model before she threw a wheel the first time?'

'Yeah. I knew that.'

'Say, dude. Do you like your father?'

'Sure. I like him a lot.'

Sydney whistled again a little mournfully. She cocked her head this way and that, as if she were watching rats racing around her mental attic.

'Magazine covers when she was sixteen. Totally demento at eighteen. I guess fame isn't all that it's cracked up to be.' Sydney cocked her head again, making a wry mouth. 'But nothing beats it for bringing in the money.' Whistling. 'I haven't had my fifteen minutes yet. But I will. Keep getting sidetracked.' She looked around the Knowles-Rembar campus, tight-lipped.

'Tell me more about Valerie.'

'More? Well, she got like resurrected by that artist guy, spent a whole year with him on some island.

Talk about head cases.'

'You mean John Ransome?'

'You got it, delicious dude.'

'What did he do to Valerie?'

'Some secrets you don't tell! I'll eat rat poison first. Oh, I forgot. Been there, done that. Hey, do you like The Sound of Music? I know all the songs.'

As if she'd been asked to audition, Sydney stood on the bench with her little hands spread wide and sang some of 'Climb Ev'ry Mountain.' Peter smiled admiringly. Sydney did have a good voice. She basked in his attention, muffed a lyric, and stopped singing. She looked down at him.

'I bet I know where Val is. Most of the time.'

'You do?'

'Help me down, Pete?'

He put his hands on her small waist. She contrived to collapse into his arms. In spite of the bulky parka and her boots she seemed to weigh next to nothing. Her parted lips were an inch from his.

'Val has a thing for cemeteries,' Sydney said. 'She can spend the whole day—you know, like it's Disneyland for dead people.'

Peter set her down on the brick walk. 'Cemeteries. For instance?'

'Oh, like that big one in Watertown? Mount Auburn, I think it is. Okay, your turn.'

'For what, Sydney?'

'Whatever Gosden said about voluntary, it's total bullshit. I'm in here like forever. But I could go with you. In the trunk of your car? Get me out of this place and I'll be real sweet to you.'

'Sorry, Sydney.'

She looked at him awhile longer, working on her lower lip with little fox teeth. Her gaze earthbound.