“How much for the desk?” I asked.
“Not for sale,” he replied, giving me his slightly nauseated smirk.
“Pericles here?” I inquired, looking around and wondering when was the last time anyone had swept.
“Who?”
“Pericles Tarr. He sold me a dinette set that I’m not happy wit’.” I contracted the last word to let him know that I was a fool.
Larry stuck out his generous lower lip and barely shook his big, close-cropped head.
“No. He sound like somebody from Mother Goose or somethin’. I’d remember a name like that.”
That was all Larry had to give. If I wanted more I had to ante up.
“You know the other salesmen?”
“Only me. Eight-forty-five a.m. to seven-fifteen p.m., Monday through Saturday except Easter week and Christmas.”
“And how long have you worked here?”
After looking at his watch he said, “Three weeks, two days, and thirty-seven minutes.”
I gave him a weak smile measured to equal his and nodded.
He nodded back, and we parted company forever.
MOST OF THE CHILDREN at the Tarr household had gone off to school when I got there a little after ten. Leafa answered the door. Seeing her made me happy. I suppose that showed in my face, because she smiled brightly and held her arms up to me. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to hold her in the crook of my arm.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” I asked.
“Mama’s sad,” she replied. There was no need for further explanation.
I walked into the house, holding Leafa. The child and I had bonded. I loved her, had become her protector. There was no sense to this feeling between us, just trying to be human in a world that idolized the kingdom of the ants.
Her head against my chest, Leafa pointed to a door in the right corner of the jumbled living room. Through there I found Meredith sitting in a straight-back chair, her head buried in her hands, flanked by two cribs and three toddlers.
With the subtlest shift of weight, Leafa told me that she needed to get down on the floor to make sure her ugly little brothers and sisters didn’t do something terrible. I put her down and kissed her cheek.
“Mrs. Tarr,” I said, still squatting.
When she lifted her head, I could see that she’d aged a good six months since our last meet two days ago.
“Yes?”
“I’m so sorry, ma’am, but if you can bear it, I’d like to ask you some questions.”
She stared at me, not comprehending simple English. Beyond her, Leafa was herding the giggling tots into a corner.
I reached out my hand, and Meredith took it. I led her out of the baby room, through the devastation of the living room, and into the kitchen, where I cleared debris from two red chairs and bade her sit. I made instant coffee while she gazed at the floor.
It occurred to me that Meredith probably hadn’t asked Leafa to stay home. The child just saw her responsibility and took it the way Feather had done with Easter Dawn.
“You take milk and sugar in your coffee?” I asked.
“Milk.”
There were only a few drops left at the bottom of the half-gallon carton.
I gave her the coffee and sat facing her.
“I’ve found out a lot about Alexander and your husband in the past couple days,” I said. “I know that they were seen at a bar together and that they picked up a car at a garage in South LA.”
“The police was here,” she said.
“What they say?”
“If I had heard anything from Ray Alexander.”
“He’s back in town?” I asked.
“I guess he is. They thought he might’a called me on account’a I called the police. They said he was a dangerous man and I should move somewhere where he don’t know where I am ’cause he might want revenge. But how can I move all these kids? Where could I take them?”
It was a good question. I found it hard to imagine one woman giving birth ten times.
“How can he hurt me worse than he already has?” she wailed.
I took her hands. The skin was rough and callused, ashen and tight with muscle.
“I need to talk to Perry’s friends,” I said softly. “Do you know any of them?”
