With Child

'Never mind, Richard, I won't make you read it. Just unlock the door and I'll rob the palace.'

They got into the apartment without being seen. Richard booted up, then tapped and scowled at the keyboard for a while before giving a brief grunt of satisfaction as Jules's files fell open before them.

'Before I open these,' he said to her, 'I need to know if you want to hide your tracks.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, as it is, when I go into one of these, the computer will record that it was opened on this date and time. If you don't want that to happen, I have to change the date on the computer so it thinks it's last month, or last year. It's not perfect, and someone looking for it would probably see it, but it's a way of escaping a quick glance. I can be more elaborate if you like, and nobody would ever know, but that takes more time.'

'No, we don't need to be paranoid about this. Go ahead and do the simpler cover.'

The files Richard opened were as tidy as Kate would have expected, clearly delineated between work and private material. She had him open each one to be sure, but many of them were simply for school - science and English assignments, book reports and homework of various kinds.

There were three oddball files, and Kate, knowing that Jules used a compatible, if more advanced, version of the word processing program that Lee had on their computer, had him copy them onto a disc. He then closed down the files, restored the proper date to the computer's brain, and shut it down.

'Should we wipe off our prints?' he suggested eagerly.

'No,' she said, to his disappointment. When they left, it was quite dark, and again nobody noticed their presence.

TWENTY-THREE

There was a lot of material on the disc, and Lee's archaic printer was smelling overheated before Kate finished. But that was nothing compared to what the stuff did to her brain as she read far into the night, lying on the couch in the guest room.

She fell asleep at some time before dawn, waking three hours later with a drift of papers covering her and the floor around the sofa, like a caricature of a park-bench sleeper with a blanket of newspapers. She groaned, eased her rigid neck, and cobbled the papers together in rough order before walking stiffly down the stairs to the coffeepot.

'Sleeping beauty,' commented Jon. He was constructing a shopping list, which always seemed to involve turning out the entire contents of every cupboard. Fortunately, there was a bit of cold coffee in the pot. Kate splashed it into a mug and put it in the microwave to heat.

'Do you think we could bear to have lentils again?' he asked her. He was tapping his teeth with the eraser end of the pencil, a gesture Kate suddenly recognized as pure Lee, adopted by her caretaker.

'I like lentils,' she said finally.

'Maybe I should substitute flageolet. Such a saucy name, don't you think?'

'They sound delicious,' she said absently, turning to remove the still-cold coffee from the whirring machine. Dio - she'd meant to call Dio before he went to school.

She took the cup into the living room, making a face when she sipped it, and paused to get her notebook from her briefcase. She flipped through it to find the phone number she wanted, sat down, dialed, sipped, and grimaced again, then sat forward when the phone was answered.

'Wanda Steiner? This is Kate Martinelli.'

'Hello, my dear. How is your poor head?'

'Much better, thanks. How is Dio doing?'

'He's coming along nicely. I do like him. He's one of the nicest boys we've had in a long time. Not a mean bone in his body, despite everything he's been through.'

'Has he given you any other ideas about his past? Where he came from, what his name is?'

'As you know, Inspector' - Kate grinned to herself: When being official, both Steiners invariably called her Inspector Martinelli; otherwise, to the wife, she was Kate, dear - 'I try to give my boys as much privacy as I can, and they know I won't violate their confidence. However, having said that, there's really nothing to tell. I think he may have come from a medium-sized city in some western state, and I believe his mother died within the past five years.'

'That's more than he told us.'

'Oh, he hasn't said anything directly. I judged it by his habits, and the fact that he has very pretty manners when he chooses. He spent a childhood around a woman who loved him and taught him well, but he's had a fair amount of rough treatment since then. There are scars on his back, you know.'

'Are there,' Kate said grimly.

'From a belt or a switch, I'd say, which drew blood, and more than once.' The words were cool and factual - she had, after all, seen worse beneath her roof - but the voice was not.

'And he hasn't let a name slip?'

'Never. In fact, he's taken the birth name of his friend, your partner's daughter.'

'Jules?'

'When he first came to us out of the hospital, we told him he needed two names for the records, at school and so forth, so he asked her permission to borrow it temporarily.'

'Good… heavens.'

'I thought it was rather sweet.'

'I wonder what her mother thinks.'

'I doubt that she knows,' Wanda said complacently. 'So, were you just asking after the boy, or was there something in particular I could help you with?'

'There is, yes. I'd like to talk to him again after school, if you don't mind. I'll drive him home afterward.'

'He was a little upset last time, dear,' she said in oblique accusation.

'I know; I'm sorry. And I can't promise he won't be upset this time, as well.'

'Tell me about it.'

'Dio knows something about Jules that may have some bearing on her disappearance.'

There was a long silence while Wanda Steiner thought it over. 'You're not going to arrest him?'

'Absolutely not.'

'Or threaten him with arrest.'

'I won't threaten him with anything. I like the kid, too.'

'That doesn't mean you won't do your job, Inspector Martinelli. Very well, you may talk with him after school, under two conditions. One, that you tell him clearly, at the beginning, he does not have to talk with you, and two, that you keep firmly in mind, Inspector, that if you cause him to run away from here or lose the progress he has made in the last month, I will be very upset.'

It was funny, Kate thought, how this gray-haired lady with the grandmotherly act could produce a threat of sharpened steel with her voice.

'Yes, ma'am,' she said meekly.

However, when she called Dio's school to leave a message, she was disconcerted to find they had no student by the name of Dio Cameron.

'I was just told he was with you. In fact, his guardian gave me your number.'

'Just a moment, please. I'll let you talk to one of the vice-principals about it.'

Before Kate could stop her, the call clicked and hummed, and a woman answered.

'Cathryn Pierce.'

'My name is Kate Martinelli. I'm trying to leave a message for one of your students, and I was just told that he isn't registered there.'

'But you think he should be?'

'I was told so - by his current guardian, Wanda Steiner.'

'This is one of Wanda's boys?'

'He's using the name Dio Cameron, although —'

'Dio Kimbal.'

'Kimbal?'

'That's how he registered, although I was told that wasn't his actual name. Why, is there something