Unspeakable

that his left eye appeared to be looking over Holly's right shoulder. He wore a white business shirt and black pants and checkered argyle socks.

'Mr. Heilshorn?' asked Holly, producing her ID card. 'I expect your wife's told you that we have an appointment.'

'That's the reason I'm here,' said Mr. Heilshorn sharply. 'I can't say that I'm anything but outraged at what's being implied here, but I wanted to tell you face-to-face that this is a family with nothing to hide.'

'Do you mind if I come in?'

He stepped back to allow her into the hallway. 'Your, uh, footwear, please?' he said, nodding down toward her feet. 'New carpet. My wife likes to keep things pretty much immaculate.'

'Yes. She said that before.'

Holly took off her brogues and Mr. Heilshorn led her into the living room. Mrs. Heilshorn was already posed in an armchair next to the fireplace, dressed in a yellow satin catsuit with a deep decolletage, a matching yellow scarf tied around her hair. Beside her, on the arm of the chair, sat a pale, pretty little girl with brown bobbed hair and big brown eyes, wearing a pink sweatshirt and a stonewashed denim skirt.

'Hello again, Mrs. Heilshorn,' said Holly. 'So this is Sarah- Jane.'

'Sarah-Jane can confirm that she got her bruises from her bicycle,' said Mrs. Heilshorn, without waiting to be prompted.

Holly sat down and propped her notepad on her knees. 'Sarah-Jane, my name is Holly and it's my job to take care of children when they get hurt.'

'Sarah-Jane got her bruises from her bicycle, didn't you, Sarah-Jane?'

'Mrs. Heilshorn, I'm sure that there's no serious problem here, but I'm directed by state legislation to investigate. I'm sure you understand why.'

'Listen,' said Mr. Heilshorn, 'we're a respectable, law-abiding family. I pay my taxes, I work for Oregon-Pacific Realty. My company donated a fountain to the art museum.'

'All the same, Mr. Heilshorn, we were alerted by Sarah-Jane's school and I'm sure that you can understand why we have to look into the matter.'

'Idon't,as a matter of fact. You're virtually accusing me of-'

Holly waited. Mr. Heilshorn spun his hand around in his effort to explain himself.

'Well, what you're implying here, I wouldn't evensayit in front of Sarah-Jane, let alone think of- Jesus, she wouldn't even know what I was talking about.'

Holly took out her pen. 'There's no accusation here, Mr. Heilshorn. But if you're agreeable, I'd like to talk to Sarah-Jane alone for just a few minutes. I'm sure that we can clear this up without any need for acrimony.'

'Acrimony? Jesus. This is my ten-year-old daughter here.'

'I know, Mr. Heilshorn. But if you can give me five minutes alone with her?'

Mr. Heilshorn shoved his hands into his pockets and took a deep, flaring breath. 'All right,' he said, at last. 'All right, fine. You can talk to her alone. But believe me, you're wasting your time. I can tell you right now what she's going to say. She's going to say that she slipped off her bicycle seat and that's all there is to it.'

It was then that he took hold of Sarah-Jane's hand and squeezed it so tight that her knuckles were spotted with white.

'That's what you're going to tell the lady, aren't you, sugar?'

Sarah-Jane looked up at him and gave him the briefest of smiles and nodded. But Holly saw something in her eyes, and it wasn't the panic that she had seen in Mrs. Heilshorn's: It was weariness. Sexual abuse, in the end, always makes children weary.

'So? your mom tells me you're out on your bike a whole lot.'

Sarah- Jane nodded.

'She says every day and sometimes she doesn't even know where you go.'

'I always tell her. I only go to see Kylie in Tabor Vista. And my friend Penny sometimes, but she lives all the way down on Division.'

'I see. Do you have any boyfriends?'

Sarah-Jane blushed and shook her head.

'Not even one boy you like?'

'Well, Kylie's brother Lennie, but he's just her brother.'

'Does Lennie like you?'

'I guess. He talks to me sometimes but that's all.'

'How old is Lennie?'

'Sixteen, I think. But he doesn't act like he's sixteen. I mean, he's nice to me.'

'Did he ever kiss you?'

Sarah-Jane burst out into frantic giggling.'No!No, never!'

'Did he ever touch you at all?'

'Uh-uh.'

'He didn't touch you in any way that could have caused those bruises on your legs?'

Sarah-Jane looked serious. 'He never touched me, ever.'

'Did anybody else ever touch you in a way that could have caused those bruises on your legs?'

Sarah-Jane shook her head again. Holly could sense her extreme tension. She began to knock her knees together as if she needed to go to the bathroom, and bite at her left-hand fingernails, and kept clearing her throat in little high-pitched hiccups.

'Your daddy and mommy say that those bruises on your legs were caused by your bicycle seat. Do you want to tell me how exactly that happens?'

'I guess I jump off the seat too quick when I stop.'

'But how do you get bruised by the seat if you've already jumped off it?'

'I don't know. I just do. It happens all the time.'

'Do you mind if I look at your bruises?'

Sarah-Jane hesitated and then she said, 'Okay.' She lifted her skirt two or three inches. Holly saw a pattern of bruises about the size and shape of large black grapes. Some of them had faded to yellow, but there were others that were clearly more recent.

'Okay, that's fine. Thank you. When was the last time you bruised yourself?'

'Yesterday,' Sarah-Jane whispered unhappily.

'Well, I have to tell you, honey, I saw your bicycle and it has a big soft seat, and I'm finding it very difficult to believe that all of those bruises could have been caused just by your hopping on and off it. Do you know what those bruises look like to me?'

'No.'

'They look to me like somebody's been grabbing hold of you? somebody strong. Do you think that could have happened? Because-let me tell you now-nobody's going to be angry with you if that's what really happened. It wasn't your fault, not your fault at all. But it's very important that we find out where those bruises came from, because we don't want you to get any more. Even if it means the state of Oregon buying you a brand-new bicycle, one that doesn't hurt you like this.'

Sarah-Jane lowered her head and twisted her plastic- bead bracelet around and around. Holly waited without saying anything while the mock-rococo clock on the mantelpiece crept slowly past four, and although she couldn't hear it, she could guess that it marked the moment with a fancy little chime.

Holly reached out and took hold of Sarah-Jane's hand. 'You don't have to suffer this anymore, Sarah-Jane. All you have to do is tell me what really happened and I can make sure that it never happens again. Ever.'

Tears began to slide down Sarah-Jane's cheeks. She said miserably, 'It was my bicycle seat,' and then she covered her face with her hands, and Holly couldn't even persuade her to look up at her, let alone say any more.

Tragedy

'Mr. and Mrs. Heilshorn, I have to tell you that my strong suspicion is that Sarah-Jane has been physically abused. More than likely by an adult, judging by the size and the span of the fingermarks.'

Mr. Heilshorn's left eye glared furiously over her shoulder. 'Do you know what you're saying here?' he demanded.

'Absolutely. The school doctor suspected it, and now that I've had the opportunity to talk to Sarah-Jane for myself, I'm convinced of it.'

'On what fucking grounds, may I ask?'

'Mr. Heilshorn, there's no need to be abusive. I'm just doing my job, which is protecting vulnerable children like your daughter from physical and emotional harm.'

'You're trying to accuse me of precisely what?'

'I'm not accusing you of anything, Mr. Heilshorn. It's not my job to accuse you of anything. My job is simply to assess Sarah-Jane's situation here and if necessary to recommend further investigation into her physical and emotional well-being. Which I'm telling you now is what I intend to do.'

'She never gets sick,' Mrs. Heilshorn put in. 'I give her an excellent diet, the same as me. Plenty of fruit, plenty of vegetables.'

'Mrs. Heilshorn, we're not discussing what Sarah-Jane has for lunch. We're talking about the possibility that somebody has sexually abused her.'

'From a few fucking bruises? What do they prove? Sarah-Jane and me, we often have a rough-and-tumble. You know, horsing around in the yard, stuff like that. Sometimes I give her piggybacks-so what? I'm her father, for Christ's sake.'

Mrs. Heilshorn said nothing but gnawed at her bright scarlet lips and looked anxious.

Holly put her notes away. 'I'm going to recommend that you bring Sarah-Jane into the children's clinic for examination by a police doctor. If she really did sustain those bruises from falling off her bicycle seat and horsing around in the yard, we'll soon be able to tell for sure. I can make an appointment now.'

'She's a virgin,' Mr. Heilshorn interrupted. 'I can absolutely guarantee that, one hundred and ten percent.'

'Well, as I say, we'll soon be able to confirm it.'

'Jesus, I don't believe this. I don't believe that you can walk into my home and suggest that I- Jesus. I mean, what kind of people are you? You got dirty minds or what?'

Holly stood up. 'I'm sorry, Mr. Heilshorn. I'm doing my job, that's all. Why don't you bring Sarah-Jane