I said, “Whatever you think, Eb.”
We went down the hallway and into the bedroom. The boy was sitting on the edge of a rumpled iron-frame double bed, his hands folded quietly in his lap. He was a nice-looking kid: lean, agile, in the well-fitting dungarees and jacket, with big soft colt-brown eyes and tousled black hair. He looked up as we came in and smiled at us; we had introduced ourselves to him when we’d first brought him inside.
I looked around the bedroom. The only furniture in there, in addition to the bed, was an unvarnished wooden dresser and a straight-backed chair pushed under a small table at one wall. The table held a couple of empty plates and a tumbler that looked as if it had contained milk at one time, a toy battleship that had been neatly put together from a model set, the plastic components of a second battleship only just begun, and some hardbound children’s adventure books stacked in a neat pile on one end. The room’s single window was fastened down on this side and shuttered across the outside, with an outside latch. A door on the left side of the room opened into a small blue-tile bathroom; there was no window in there that I could see.
Eberhardt said to Gary, “How you feeling, son? All right?”
“Oh, sure. I’m fine, sir.”
That kind of politeness went a long way with Eberhardt. He sat down on the bed and put his arm around the boy’s narrow shoulders. “We’ll be taking you home pretty soon. I guess you’re kind of anxious to see your mom and dad.”
“Yes, sir!”
“But you won’t mind answering a couple of questions for us first, will you?”
“No, sir.”
“That’s fine,” Eberhardt said. “Now the first thing-I want to know if you were hurt in any way. Slapped, shoved, anything like that.”
“No, Miss Frye was pretty nice to me,” Gary said.
“Miss Frye, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The blond girl out front?”
“Uh-huh.”
“What about the man? What was his name?”
“You mean the man who came for me at Sandhurst?”
“That’s the one.”
“He said for me to call him Kenneth.”
Lockridge’s first name had been Paul. Eberhardt apparently knew that as well, because he nodded to himself in his dour way. I had the idea that he had briefed himself thoroughly on the details of the kidnapping and murder of Lockridge-not so much because I was involved in it, but more because he was a good cop who liked to keep fully informed on matters which fell, no matter how peripherally, under his jurisdiction.
He said, “And this Kenneth was nice to you too, was he?”
“Yes, sir, I guess he was,” Gary answered.
“Did he tell you why you were being taken out of school?”
“He said my dad wanted him to.”
“Where did you go after you left Sandhurst?”
“We stopped at a service station and Kenneth gave me a bag with these clothes I’m wearing now inside, and said I was to change out of my uniform.”
“And then what?”
“We drove up here in Kenneth’s car.”
“You mean here to this house?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Was Miss Frye here when you arrived?”
“Yes, sir,” Gary said. “Kenneth introduced me to her, and then he brought me into this room and showed me the Tom Swift books there-some that I haven’t read before-and the models and said I was going to be staying here for a couple of days.”
“Did you ask him why?”
“Sure,” the boy said. “He just laughed and told me it was a big secret.”
“What did you say to that?”
“Well, that I thought something pretty funny was going on. And he said oh, you do? and I said yes, maybe you better take me home now. He just laughed again and locked me up in here so I couldn’t get out at all.”
“Were you afraid?”
“Well, a little, I guess.”
“Did you know what was happening?”
“Sure,” the boy said matter-of-factly. “I was being kidnapped. I knew for sure when he took me out a little while later to talk to my dad on the phone, after Miss Frye had gone out shopping.”
Eberhardt said, “Did you see Kenneth again after that first day?”
“Uh-huh. He came the next morning, and I could hear him and Miss Frye yelling at each other out in the living room.”
“What were they yelling about?”
“Miss Frye said she didn’t want anything to do with a kidnapping and Kenneth said it was too late now, she already had something to do with it, and Miss Frye started to cry and Kenneth said for her not to worry because it would all be over tonight-that night, I mean- and they could go back East and live it up.”
“Did Kenneth come and talk to you personally?”
“For a little while, he did.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me to be good and stay quiet, and I could go home that night.”
“Did you do what he said?”
“Yes, sir. I wanted to go home.”
“But Kenneth didn’t come back, did he?”
“No, sir, he didn’t. Did you catch him?”
“Not exactly,” Eberhardt said. He chewed noiselessly on the stem of his pipe. “Did Miss Frye feed you regularly?”
“Nothing but a lot of sandwiches,” Gary said. “I’m awful tired of sandwiches.”
“And did she come talk to you?” Eberhardt asked. “Did she let you out of here at all?”
“She didn’t let me out,” Gary said. “I guess ‘cause she was afraid I’d try to run or something if she did. There’s two doors into the bathroom, and she’d lock this one and put some milk and sandwiches in there and then unlock it again so I could get the stuff.”
“Tell me what happened yesterday, Gary.”
“Nothing much. Miss Frye went around slamming things and I could hear her walking up and down. Then she went out and came back and after that she was pretty quiet. But I could hear her bawling once when I went over to the door to listen.”
“Did she leave you alone last night?”
“No,” Gary said, “but she left awful early this morning. I heard the front door slam, and then it got quiet the way it does when nobody’s around, so I knew she’d gone away. I tried yelling for a while, but I didn’t think anybody could hear me, so I quit that. Then I thought about breaking the window, but those shutters are latched on the outside; you can see it if you look hard-the latch, I mean. I just sat here and waited.” He looked down at the sterile whiteness of the cheap new tennis shoes on his small feet, and as if ashamed he said, “I cried once, too-but only for a little while.”
“What did Miss Frye say to you when she came this afternoon?” Eberhardt asked gently.
“She didn’t say anything right away. I heard her come into the house and pace around for a while and rattle some glasses and stuff in the kitchen. Then she came and told me she was going to see that I got home because it was the only thing for her to do. Then she unlocked the door and got hold of my arm and took me outside, and that’s when you and the other officers came and rescued me.”
Eberhardt patted the boy’s head and got up on his feet. “You’re a brave boy, Gary,” he said. “You stay with Inspector Nelson over there for a few minutes while I talk to Miss Frye, and then we’ll see that you get right home. Okay?”
“Yes, sir,” the boy said, and smiled up at us. It was an infectious smile, and we were both grinning as we went out.
In the hallway, I said, “Some kid, huh, Eb?”
“Yeah,” Eberhardt said. “That’s a fact, all right.”
We went down the hall to the living room.
* * * *
15
It was dark in there, with only a single tassel-shaded floor lamp on one side of the room casting pale light over the drab interior. The furniture was old and tired and dusty; a faded crocheted afghan covered the backrest of an overstuffed velveteen couch, and there were yellow-tinged antimacassars on the arms of two matching chairs.