Page 51 of A River Red With Blood
Sabine waited.
“Even if you’re sure, don’t tell me my daughter is dead.”
She stepped aside to let Sabine enter.
“Do you have tea?”Sabine asked.
“All kinds.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“Fruit.”
“Then I’d like some fruit tea, please—if it’s not any trouble, and you’ll join me.”
Anita closed the door.
“I’ll show you to Mallory’s bedroom,” she said, “then I’ll make the tea.”
“No.Let’s sit in the kitchen and drink it together.”
“I thought you wanted to see the room.”
“In time,” said Sabine.“First, I’d like you to tell me about Mallory.”
Anita Norton closed her eyes.Softly, she began to cry.
Chapter 45
Leonard Levesque stood before Santopietro’s desk with his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and a smirk on his face that Santopietro, for all his reluctance to repeat the sins of Élan, wanted to pummel into bloodiness.Santopietro remained seated, with Renders leaning against the bookshelves to his left.Renders was a big man, and by rights the combination of his physical presence and Santopietro’s authority should have cowed the boy—it rarely failed to subdue others—but he remained resolutely unintimidated.Even when the subject of the attack on Anthony Marshall was raised, his expression didn’t change.He displayed some mirth, but shallowly, as though it could easily tip into boredom.
“What about it?”Leonard asked.
“We think you might have had something to do with it,” said Renders.
“Did he say I did?”
Renders didn’t reply.Neither did Santopietro.Under ordinary circumstances, and faced with an ordinary boy, they might have expected defiance, followed by a quick admission of guilt and some tears, crocodile or otherwise.But Leonard Levesque wasn’t ordinary, which was why his parents were being charged a premium by Spero, with their knowledge and consent.Mr and Mrs Levesque were under no illusions about their son.
The lull dragged on, the two men unwilling to lie to the boy but holding out hope that he might concede something, anything.It was Leonard who broke it, giving the slightest shrug of his right shoulder and saying: “Well, then.”
Renders shifted position and audibly exhaled, like a bull preparing to charge.Leonard flicked a lizard glance at him,willing him to try.It was left to Santopietro to lift a finger of warning to Renders.They needed to be careful here.
“What was done to Anthony was brutal and cowardly,” said Santopietro.
“I wouldn’t know.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Leonard stared past him, taking in the view of the playing field, the fences, and the landscape beyond.
“I was down to Small’s yesterday,” he said, “on my bike.They had a notice posted, about how they were going to search for Mallory Norton again tomorrow.I would have signed up, if I thought I’d be allowed out to help.”He pursed his lips.“Maybe we ought to have the school offer its services.We could make a field trip of it.”
His attention flicked back to Santopietro, who thought how disconcerting it was to find oneself the focus of such knowing eyes buried in embryonic, doughy features.
Santopietro didn’t look at Renders.He kept his focus on Leonard.
“I’ll bear the suggestion in mind,” he said evenly.“But let’s hope she’s located safe and sound without our assistance.”
