My bedroom. I’m in my bedroom and I seem to be sitting up. Why can’t I move my hands and feet?
For some bizarre reason she didn’t feel afraid. She didn’t feel anything. My head should be pounding – it should feel sore, at the very least – but I don’t feel any pain. I just want to shut my eyes and go back to sleep.
‘Come now, darling,’ Humphrey said, gently shaking her head. She could smell cigarette smoke and booze on his breath. ‘Time to wake up.’
He let go of her face. Her chin dropped against her chest and her body slumped to the side but she didn’t fall. A long line of drool dripped on to her tan shorts.
Father Humphrey had duct-taped her to one of the kitchen chairs. She could see the strips wrapped around her shins. He had tied her hands behind her back – the kids, oh Jesus God, Jesus Mary and Joseph, what did he do to Michael and Carter? Were they in the bedroom?
It took a great amount of effort to raise her head.
‘That’s my girl,’ he said.
Her head flopped to the side, against her shoulder. The bedroom door was open and she could see the hall. The doors to the boys’ bedrooms were shut. The door to the dead room was open. Father Humphrey had kicked it open. She saw the lock and pieces of wood lying on the carpet.
What did he do to the kids? And why don’t I feel scared? Why do I feel so goddamn calm?
Father Humphrey snapped his fingers. ‘Over here, love.’
Jamie rolled her head back to him. He sat on the edge of her bed with his legs crossed. Blue hospital booties covered his polished black loafers. It was hard to concentrate now, hard to keep her eyes open. Her head kept swimming; this serene calmness or whatever it was wanted to drag her back down into the place where Dan was now, this sweet, black oblivion.
The kids, a voice screamed to her.
She opened her eyes and looked at Humphrey and his hospital booties.
No, not hospital booties, she thought. They’re… they’re… what’s their names, the ones who investigate crime scenes… forensic. Yes. Forensic techs wear those booties when entering a crime scene… so they don’t leave footprints.
‘I didn’t believe it when Kevin told me he saw you this morning, waiting for him in your minivan,’ Humphrey said. His latex-covered hand held a mobile against his ear – Ben Masters’s phone, the Palm Treo. ‘What were you going to do to him, Jamie?’
The room kept going in and out of focus.
Concentrate. You have… to concentrate. Find kids.
The kids weren’t in the bedroom – at least she couldn’t see them. She looked at the opened door next to the nightstand and saw the familiar short hall with the two walk-in closets and the small area she and Dan had used for storage. No sign of Michael or Carter in there but –
Her eyes flicked to a dusty bottle sitting on top of her nightstand. It took her a moment to focus on the label. Johnnie Walker Blue. Had Humphrey brought a bottle of booze with him? No. No, he must have found it in the house but where? She didn’t remember seeing it.
Empty glass next to the bottle. A burnt spoon, syringe and candle.
Humphrey covered the phone with his hand. ‘How you feeling, love?’
‘I… ah… ah… can’t… ah…’
‘Can’t concentrate?’
‘Yes.’
‘Feel any pain?’
‘Ah… ah… No.’
‘Good. Gave you a little shot of heroin to calm you down – feels wonderful, doesn’t it? I’ve never indulged myself, mind you, but I thought –’ He held up a hand, motioning for her to stay silent, and then spoke into the phone. ‘I’m at the Russo house. Everything’s all set. Take your time.’
Humphrey hung up and stared at the phone, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
‘Listed me as Judas,’ he said, smirking. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Ben was blessed with a dark sense of humour. The man is an Irish Catholic to the core. Do you know him as Ben or Frank? Which is it?’
Jamie couldn’t hold her head up any longer. She rested it back against her shoulder and stared down the hall to the dead room.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he said. ‘We’ll get to all that in due course.’
She heard the clink of glass as Humphrey poured himself a drink from the bottle of Johnnie Walker.
‘Where… ah… ah… where…’
‘Where did I get the bottle?’
‘Y-y… ah… yes.’
‘From Danny’s private hiding spot in the basement,’ Humphrey said. ‘We had a lot of drinks and talks down there that last month, mainly when you weren’t home. Sad that a man has to hide a bottle from his wife. Then again, I always had you pegged as a meddlesome cunt.’
Jamie blinked. The mattress in the dead room came into sharp focus for a moment. She blinked again, wanting to hold on to the image, the clarity so she could –
A hand reached out from underneath the bed.
‘You’ve got a tough decision to make,’ Humphrey said. ‘I’m not going to sugarcoat it. Before we get into that, I want you to tell me how you came to acquire Ben’s phone.’
Jamie blinked again and forced her eyes wide open. Michael’s hand had pulled back the valance. He lay next to his brother underneath the bed, his other hand covering Carter’s mouth.
Michael whispered something to his brother. Carter’s eyes were shut but he was crying, shaking.
‘Come, Jamie,’ Humphrey said. ‘There’s no use hiding it.’
How did… Humphrey fail to find the kids?
He still thinks they’re at camp. He’s waiting for them to come home.
Michael started sliding out from underneath the bed.
‘N-N-NO!’
‘I want to be reasonable,’ Humphrey said.
Michael stopped.
‘Go… ah… back. Stay.’
‘I’m not following you, Jamie.’
Michael slid underneath the bed, retreating behind the valance. She turned back to Humphrey. It seemed to take a long time.
‘Go… ah… back. Go.’
‘I can’t go back,’ Humphrey said. ‘You started this, love. And I should tell you that the man who’s on his way here doesn’t share my virtues. Especially when it comes to matters involving patience.’
Humphrey was lying on her bed, his head propped up on her pillows. He rested the glass on his flat stomach. The shades had been drawn. She thought she heard rain.
‘Are you listening to me? Please pay attention, because I don’t want what happened to Danny to happen to you. I really don’t.’
‘Dan… ah… happened?’
‘They shoved his hand down a waste-disposal. What do you think happened?’
‘I… don’t… ah… ah… know.’
He lifted his head off the pillow. ‘Dan never told you?’
‘N-N-No.’
‘Well, ain’t that a hoot.’
He took a sip of his drink and stared up at the ceiling.
‘The short version is your husband was a stubborn son of a bitch. I’ll give you the longer version once you tell me how you got your hands on Ben’s phone – there’s no use denying it.’
Jamie licked her swollen lips, felt another string of drool drip from her mouth and plop against her leg.
‘Whenever you’re ready,’ Humphrey said. He smiled, patient and pleasant, waiting for her to answer. I’ve got all the time in the world, that smile said. Nothing in the world can touch me. Not even God Himself.