“I rescued him. I… have a right-“
“This situation isn’t about rights; it’s about keeping Benjamin safe until we find out whether he really does have any terrorist affiliations.”
Her mouth set in a mulish line. “Benji is not a terrorist. I know him. He’s scared. He’s lonely. He needs me.”
I shook my head. “You can’t take him back to Larchmont. And even if you had some other place to hide him, you’re wounded. You couldn’t look after him. Besides which, the FBI is looking for him. Because they may be tailing me, I’m not trying to visit him. And as soon as you get out of this bed, they’re going to be questioning you. He’s safe where he is.”
“On your say-so. I looked after him for three weeks and never breathed a word to anyone.” She sat up in bed, her eyes fierce in her pale face. “You can’t just barge in and take him away and not tell me where he is.”
I shook my head, tired of the orders of the rich, even the young, ardent rich, but I said, “I will tell you if you promise not to try to see him until I let you know it’s safe. And if you agree to answer my questions.”
She thought it over for a minute, not wanting to give me anything, but finally agreed. When I told her he was at St. Remigio’s, she objected to my putting a Muslim in a Catholic rectory, but, after I’d described Father Lou, she reluctantly agreed it might work. Mindful of Renee’s timetable, I cut short Catherine’s further questions to ask my own.
“How did you come to take charge of Benji?”
The ghost of a smile flitted across her face. “In the cafeteria one day. I’d left my books. Room was empty, ‘cept for him. Saw him trying to read…
out of one of the third-grade books… helped him. After, he’d stop sometimes during lunch… he bussed tables, you know… he’d ask what a word meant… never intruded… I liked him… didn’t know his story… uncle died here… mom home in Cairo… three little sisters… a brother… sending them money… learned that… later.”
She stopped, panting. I helped her drink some juice and looked at my watch.
“Yeah, Granny. Can’t fight her… Day they came for him… Benji hid inside our sports equipment shed… Saw me… when I was putting away… field hockey sticks… begged for help. Hid him in the shed… took the padlock key home… Did like you guessed… down the fire escape… took Gran’s car… picked up Benji at Vina Fields… drove him out to New Solway… He couldn’t stay in the sports shed. I knew Larchmont was empty… only place I could think of… We found all that… old furniture in the attic. Turned off… motion sensors for alarm. Brought food… when I could get there.”
“But how did you get into Larchmont?”
“trample did go once… last year… I saw him leave, two in the morning… Theresa didn’t wake up… I followed him through the wood and saw him… go into the house. Grample did have a key for the door, the alarm… that part was true… I don’t know how… he got it… Got Grample home… He does come with me… even when he won’t go… with Granny… Daddy was at home, so I didn’t say… anything… but I kept… the key.”
“I thought Theresa had an alarm over her bed so she’d wake up if your grandfather left his room in the night.”
“She does… But sometimes she… has seizures and stuff… she sleeps through alarm… Granny mustn’t know. It doesn’t happen often… Grample likes her… she’s good with him… don’t tell Granny, please.”
She was growing paler and shorter of breath. I assured her I wouldn’t rat out Theresa to her grandmother, and told her to lie down and rest, that we’d talk more another time. Edwards and Renee came in as Catherine sank back against the mattress.
Edwards looked at his daughter, lying with her eyes half shut, her face white, and glared at me. “What have you been doing to her?” He bent over
his daughter and added with surprising tenderness, “Trina, Trina, it’s okay, baby, Daddy’s here.”
A nurse had followed the Bayards into the room. She pushed past Edwards and Renee and put her fingers on Catherine’s wrist. “She’s all right, just very fatigued. I’m going to give her something to help her rest better, and, for now, no more conversation with her.”
Edwards turned to me. “What did you do to her?”
“I talked to her, Mr. Bayard. Just as I plan to talk to you.” My glance swept from him to his mother. “We have a lot of catching up to do, you and I:” Renee’s attention was arrested. “You and my son know each other?” “Not well.” I smiled tightly. “But I hope to change that. We’ve played soccer against each other. Or was it bullfighting? I get the sports confused.” Renee frowned: she didn’t like the tone I was using, or she didn’t like the secret relationship with her son I was implying. “It’s time for you to leave Catherine’s room, but you may wait outside. I want to talk to you about Friday’s events.”
More commands from the rich and powerful. I didn’t snarl at her, because I wanted to find out some things myself, like whether Renee had been on the scene Friday night, and what kinds of questions the sheriff was asking. Above all, I wanted time alone with Edwards Bayard.
Out in the hall, I leaned against the wall next to the door, but the murmurs within didn’t reach to me. The guard stared at me. I hoped he was memorizing my face as someone with unquestioned access to Catherine’s room.
I strolled to the window at the end of the corridor. As I’d expected, the private wing commanded a view of the lake, but directly below the window an apartment building was being deconstructed so the hospital could add yet another building to its gargantuan operation. They were taking the building apart slowly, instead of blowing it to bits-I suppose a blast would shock the cardiac pavilion. Where the outer wall had come down, I could see dangling pipe and a bed that someone had left behind.
After ten minutes or so, Renee Bayard came out of the room with her son. With a pointed look at me, she told the guard no one was to be allowed into the room except the private nurse, the two doctors whose names the guard had and herself and Edwards. No volunteers carrying flowers, no private investigators and absolutely no officers of the law. If any o? the above tried to force their way past, the guard was to beep Renee at once: Was that clear?
When he agreed that that was clear, she beckoned to me to join them and sailed down the hall. Edwards and I were about the same height, a good four inches taller than Renee, but we almost had to jog to keep up with her.
In the elevator going down Renee kept the conversation casual: the doctor felt strongly that they should discontinue the morphine pump by the end of the day today; she hoped Edwards agreed? Catherine would be in the hospital a few more days; they should bring her laptop over so she could chat with her friends; they needed to decide when they could let her friends visit.
At the bottom, Renee led us out the front, into a waiting car. She told the driver to take us home. “The Banks Street house, Yoshi. Miss Catherine is very weak, but she is conscious and alert; we’re pleased with the progress she’s making.”
I felt a reluctant sympathy for Edwards, who hadn’t been able to edge in anything since saying, “Yes, I didn’t want her on the morphine a second day, anyway.” It would have been hard to grow up with such a strong personality rolling over you. Perhaps that’s why he’d sought refuge in the rightwing causes anathema to his parents.
CHAPTER 37
At the Banks Street apartment, Renee stopped to tell Elsbetta she wanted coffee in her study, then swept down the hall without looking to see if her son and I were following. Edwards stalked after his mother, not wanting to talk to me-sulking because Renee had reduced him to eight-year-old status. I stared curiously into the rooms we passed, especially at a long sitting room with a baby grand, and walls hung with paintings. The hall was lined with curio cases. Edwards tapped his foot ostentatiously when I stopped to inspect a Greek-looking pot. I asked how old it was, but he only told me to come along and took me into a room overlooking the back garden.
This seemed to be Renee’s private space in the apartment, where she had both office equipment and home
