“On my own. I do a little insurance work, mostly workers’ comp investigation, some heir hunting.”
“So that gives you time to home-school Seth?”
“You told him about that, huh?” she asked Seth.
“Yes. My mom’s a good teacher,” he said to Irene, then frowned. “Mom, am I going to flunk now?”
“No, why should you?”
“I can’t study. You know — the fire.”
“We’ll be able to get our things out soon. What we can’t get out, the insurance company will help us replace.”
“Gordie Howe?”
“He might be just fine. We don’t know yet. What’s important is you’re safe, and I’m safe, and My Dog’s safe.”
“And Frank.”
“Yes, and Frank.”
“And I have my treasures.”
“Yes, but if we’re ever in a fire again—”
“I know.”
“You scared me to death, Seth Lefebvre.”
“I’m sorry.” He turned away from her and back to Irene. “Stay here — I have something to show you.” He stood up, seemed to remember something, turned back to Elena and said, “May I please be excused?”
“Yes, you may.”
He hurried to the guest room, taking care to prevent Cody from following him in.
“He’s great,” Irene said. “You must be so proud of him.”
“I am,” Elena said. “I am.”
Frank thought of the videotape Polly Logan had given him. “Elena — has he ever seen a videotape of Phil?”
“What? You have a tape of Phil?”
“Yes.” He explained where he got it. “I brought it home.”
Seth had overheard the last of this and said, “I have a tape of him too! Wanna hear?”
“Sure,” Irene said, then glanced at Elena, who was pressing her fingertips to her lips. “But maybe we should save it for another time.”
“No,” Elena said. “No, it’s fine.”
He ran over to the stereo, treasure box in hand. “Hey, Frank! Can you show me how to work this thing?”
Frank obliged. They gathered in the living room. Frank noticed that Elena was focusing on the cat, not meeting anyone’s eyes. What the hell was going to be on Seth’s tape?
As soon as Irene came in, Seth said, “Ready?”
“Yes.”
He opened the lid of his treasure box a narrow crack, slipped his hand in, and pulled out a cassette. Frank put it in the machine and pressed the play button. Seth reached into the box again and pulled out a black-and-white photo. A photo of Lefebvre as a young man, in a U.S. Air Force uniform, standing next to a plane. “That’s him,” he whispered to Frank as the tape went past the leader. Through the speakers, they heard a male voice say, “You’ve reached 429-5555. You know what to do.” There was an electronic beep, the soft hiss of tape, then silence.
“Wow, that’s so awesome!” Seth said. “I’ve never heard it on a big speaker before. Play it again!”
Elena’s head was down, her hair hiding her face.
Frank rewound the tape and played it again. This time Seth said the words along with his father.
“It was on his answering machine,” Seth explained to the silent adults. “We made a bunch of copies of it, because it was inside the machine and we were afraid the machine would break, right, Mom?”
“Right, Seth,” she said softly. “A digital recording.”
“The only one you have of him?” Frank asked.
“Mom has the other copies of it,” Seth said. “But this is my own. That’s why it’s in my treasure box.”
“Seth, I’m so glad you and your mom came to visit us,” Frank said, “because I have something I think you are going to love.”
For the next two hours, they watched Phil Lefebvre. At first, Irene and Elena fought back tears, but Seth was so totally captivated — and thrilled — his enthusiasm became contagious. “That’s him! Mom, look! He was on TV! My dad was famous!” he kept saying. “Frank, those people at the church were right!”
He would listen carefully any time Lefebvre spoke. Frank turned up the volume and Seth thanked him.
In one interview, Polly Logan asked Lefebvre about being a pilot. For once, Lefebvre smiled when he answered.
“God, how he loved flying,” Elena said. “He spoke about it in just that way to me on — when he took me out for dinner one night.”
“He took Mom to the Prop Room,” Seth said. “Tante Marie waited on them. Now she owns it.” He studied Elena, then moved over to sit beside her. “Are you sad, Mom?”
“A little, but only because I miss him,” she said.
Frank looked toward Irene, silently sending her another apology. She smiled, but he wasn’t sure that meant the apology was accepted.
Frank noticed that Lefebvre typically minimized his own role in solving cases, always mentioning anyone in the department who had given him help. In one of the last short segments before the final press conference, the tail end of one of Polly Logan’s questions could be heard: “…brilliant rescue of the boy?”
“There was nothing brilliant about it — I was at the marina by the purest chance and had the help of Detectives Elena Rosario and Robert Hitchcock,” Lefebvre said, quite obviously trying to get away from Logan. “You should talk to Detective Rosario — she hasn’t received the credit she deserves.”
“But you must have suspected something to be at the marina at that time,” Logan persisted.
“No. An anonymous tip on another case brought us there — a false lead. So you see, we were just lucky.”
Frank was thinking about this set of coincidences when the segment with the final press conference began. It was rough footage, not edited as the others were — Frank noticed there was much more background noise in this one than in the others. As the camera roved over the small crowd in the hospital room, Frank was struck by the fact that the lists in Lefebvre’s notebook could have been used as roll call sheets for the members of the PD who were there.
Seth was up on his feet again and gleefully pointed out Irene and his mother as they appeared on the screen. When Seth Randolph came on, he was momentarily solemn. “There’s the boy I got my name from,” he informed Frank. “He was in the newspaper, too. He fought bad guys, but he died. My dad loved him like he would have loved me if he knew about me, so my mom gave me his name.” Although he was serious during this recital, he seemed to take all of this as simple fact and did not seem overly disturbed by it. He was too enthralled at seeing his father in something other than still photos to remain solemn for long. He showed an obvious dislike of Tory Randolph, making a “gag me” motion when she was speaking and once yawning loudly.
“Seth,” Elena warned.
And then Frank heard it — softly but distinctly. Amid all the chatter and the sounds of movement on the audio track, he almost missed it. Most likely, if he hadn’t already come across it in Lefebvre’s notes, he would have never noticed the tones among all the other recorded noises.
Do-re-mi, do-re-mi…
They heard Lefebvre’s voice saying, “Easy… Seth, it’s all right.”
“He said my name!” Seth shouted.
“Let’s hear it again,” Frank said, pausing and rewinding the tape back to the point just before he heard the electronic notes. This time he tried to watch reactions, to see if the camera caught anyone moving or responding to the sound, but the camera was focused on Tory Randolph, who seemed not to notice the sound at all.
But as he kept watching, it seemed clear to Frank that Seth Randolph had reacted to the sound. In early shots, the boy appeared uninterested — almost bored — by the press conference. After the sound was heard, he was pale, frightened, and holding on to Lefebvre.
Frank glanced at Elena, who appeared almost as shocked as Seth Randolph did on the tape.
On the tape, Lefebvre said, “A little too much excitement,” in answer to Tory Randolph’s anxious questions. “Perhaps it would be best if we let Seth rest.”