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“Why, you-how dare you?” His eyes blazed with fury, but he also kept his voice low, glancing at his daughter to see how much of our talk she was following.

“What do you mean, how dare I? You knocked me down in your haste to flee the dead man’s home. And your rightwing think tank is a major

beneficiary of Taverner’s estate. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t hand you-not to the old family friend, Rick Salvi-but to the Chicago cops, who aren’t going to be nearly so impressed with you.”

“Get out of here right now,” Bayard roared. “I will not have you slandering me in front of my daughter!”

“Daddy, please,” Catherine cried from her bed. “Don’t shout, I can’t stand it. And let me talk to her, I want to talk to her.”

“Not without me present, you don’t. Don’t you understand, Trina, you are in a lot of trouble right now?”

“Trina’s in a lot of pain, and Sheriff Salvi is in a lot of trouble. Don’t get hysterical, Eds.” Renee Bayard swept into the room.

She moved me away from Catherine with an imperious glance and felt her granddaughter’s pulse. Although Renee was dressed casually, in corduroy trousers and a sweater, she still wore her mahjongg tile bracelet, which clacked as she felt Catherine’s wrist. I couldn’t help wondering how long she’d lingered outside the door, waiting for the perfect line for a dramatic entrance.

“It’s not hysterical to be concerned when your daughter lets herself be sucked into involvement with a runaway terrorist-especially when you’re twelve hundred miles away. What the hell were you doing, letting her roam about Larchmont like that in the middle of the night? I agreed to let her stay with you when I took the position in D.C., but if this is what’s going to happen, then as soon as she’s fit to travel she’s moving out there where she can be properly supervised.”

“Won’t go.” Catherine tried to speak with her usual fire, but her words came out slowly. “Stay with Grample and Granny. Won’t listen to rightwing bullshit night after-“

“You see?” Edwards Bayard said to his mother. “She lives with you and she loses all respect for my work.”

“Eds, she’s terribly weak, she can’t think straight right now. Let’s let her rest and sort this out when she’s stronger. And you,” she turned to me. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but it’s time you left.”

“Want her to stay,” Catherine whispered. “Talk alone. Please, Granny.” Tears trickled down the sides of Catherine’s pale face.

Renee gave me a look that seemed to question what her granddaughter

saw in me, but she moved with her usual decision. “You can have ten minutes. Eds, you and I will get a cup of coffee. And find out why the guard let this woman into the room.”

When the two had left, I made sure the door was shut all the way, then pulled a chair up next to Catherine’s head, leaning close to her so I could speak softly and keep any eavesdroppers from making out my words. “Ben jamin is safe, but I’m not going to tell you where he is. You’ve been gallant and heroic, standing up for him, but the police will be coming through here in waves. You’re Calvin and Renee Bayard’s granddaughter-the cops won’t abuse you-but they are going to question you. A lot. The less you know, the better for both you and Benjamin.”

“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.”