Page 71 of A River Red With Blood
He opened the door and smelled urine.Kaspar Filipowski wascurled up at the bottom of the closet, between the floor and the lowest shelf.Even though he was small, he could only have managed to fit in there with difficulty.He was crying, but softly, as if afraid of being heard.
“What in God’s name are you doing?”Elgot asked.“Never mind.Let’s get you out.”
But Kaspar didn’t move, and he wasn’t looking at Elgot but past him, over his shoulder.Elgot followed the direction of his gaze and saw nothing.He reached for the boy, who tried to shrink away, even though he couldn’t have retreated any deeper unless he went through the wall.Kaspar spoke, but so quietly that Elgot didn’t catch what he said.
“What did you say?”
Kaspar repeated himself, and this time Elgot heard him.
“I’m hiding.”
“From who?”
Kaspar’s eyes found Elgot’s.
“From the dead boys.”
Chapter 68
Teal’s Toyota came out of the storage lot first, followed shortly after by the BMW.Both headed for the highway, but Teal went south, presumably toward home, while the BMW took the exit toward Bangor.It was possible, of course, that both Teal and the owner of the BMW happened to have storage units in Pittsfield and experienced simultaneous urges to visit: One had to try to think the best of people.But there isn’t a lot of money to be made from thinking the best of people, not in my line of work, and rarely was I hired because all was well in someone’s world.So, operating on the basis that the driver of the BMW—who appeared to be male—might potentially be of interest, I decided to follow him instead of Teal, because I knew where to find Teal again.
The BMW had Maine plates.I got close enough to make a note of the license number as a precaution, then dropped back a few cars.Back in the good old days, I’d kept a couple of contacts at the Bureau of Motor Vehicles in Portland and Augusta.Patently, it was illegal for them to access owner information for non–law enforcement officers, but what was a boy to do?Both were now retired and I hadn’t tried to make new friends at the BMV.My PI’s license was always hanging in the balance and I didn’t want to give anyone in the Maine State Police’s Special Investigations Unit, which licensed investigators, an excuse to decline my four-yearly renewal, or worse, seek to have my license revoked.Also, keystrokes were now logged, and state and federal employees could get fired for accessing personal information without cause.That made them reluctant to help private investigators, even for money.Finally, Moxie Castin had made it plain he preferred me not to source data in a mannerthat wouldn’t stand up under cross-examination in court.If I did, he didn’t want to know about it, and if called to give evidence, I’d better have alternative ways to support my testimony without perjuring myself.In desperate situations, I could call on David Southwood, who didn’t know the meaning of the wordillegaland could dig up any intelligence, albeit for eye-watering fees.But again, Moxie, the old spoilsport, warned that he wouldn’t pay for Southwood’s services, not even if I included them under “Stationery and Other Incidentals” in my final bill.All of which meant that, on an evening when I could have been doing something more fun, I was following a fancy BMW while listening to 1st Wave on Sirius, because Classic Rewind was making me feel too old.
The BMW stayed on I-95 until after the highway crossed the Kenduskeag Stream in Bangor, where the driver took the exit for Outer Essex, which was a nice family suburb close to Essex Woods, heavy on big lots with a country vibe, a porch, a dog, a tire swing on an old oak tree, and kids who didn’t swear.I couldn’t vouch for the dog or the kids, but the property at which the BMW finally arrived did have the rest, right down to the tire swing.The BMW stopped in the driveway and a man got out.He was short, running to plump, and paused for a few moments to gather himself before heading into the house, which was all lit up inside.
While vehicle records might have been difficult to access legally, the same was not true for property records, because property purchases left a bigger paper trail.Within minutes I had a valuation for the Outer Essex home—over $400,000, thanks to a recent barn conversion—and the names of the owners, Edward and Mia Kenney.A further search revealed that the Kenneys were joint proprietors of the Smiling Seed Company, a garden-supply business in Orono, with a focus on organic, sustainably grown, and non-GMO products.The couple featured on the homepage of the company’s website, grinning organically in matching bib overalls, and it was definitely Edward Kenney I’d seen getting out of the BMW.
So why, following a conversation about the Spero School, hadRoger Teal made an eighty-mile round trip to rendezvous briefly in a Pittsfield storage lot with the owner of a seed store in Orono?I could have knocked on Edward Kenney’s door to ask, but there was no point in alerting prey if you didn’t already have snares in place to catch them.I called Jenny Berrien and asked if Edward Kenney’s name meant anything to her, but she said it didn’t.
“What about the Smiling Seed Company, out of Orono?”
Nope, that didn’t ring any bells either.I thanked her and let her get back to whatever it was that whistleblowers did when they weren’t blowing whistles.Then, not very much wiser than when I began, I drove home.
Chapter 69
Elgot accompanied Kaspar Filipowski to the ablution block, where he waited while the boy showered, dried himself, and changed into fresh underwear and trousers.Elgot put the stained clothing in a bag and told Kaspar he’d take care of it.He’d add it to his own laundry, which Elgot always did himself, and nobody would be any the wiser.Elgot tried to press Kaspar on what he meant by “dead boys,” but Kaspar had clammed up.Elgot decided it might be better to leave him be and broach the subject again the following day.
Once Kaspar was dressed and ready, Elgot walked him to the hall, where the film was playing, even though he’d asked Renders not to start it until the boy was located.The others peered curiously at Kaspar, but nobody made any smart remarks, and a space was cleared for him at the end of the back row.The students appeared to Elgot to be almost solicitous of Kaspar.Even Leonard Levesque wasn’t sneering, and a sneer was his default expression.Renders wasn’t around, and when Elgot asked where he was, Jamie Hanscomb, the oldest of the current intake, said that Mr.Renders had pressed play on the Blu-ray and left him in charge.
“Well, you’re still in charge,” Elgot told him.“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
While it wasn’t unusual for a teacher to nominate one of the older boys to supervise, Elgot was irritated.Why couldn’t Renders just have stayed where he was?Elgot decided not to waste time finding him.Better that he speak to Santopietro first.Elgot’s encounter with Kaspar Filipowski had unsettled him, coming so soon after the trouble with Anthony Marshall.But the latter hadn’t said anything about dead boys, not that Elgot had heard, and Kaspar, unlike Anthony, hadn’t suffered any injuries.
Because he managed to hide in time.
Hide from whom, though?Elgot wasn’t a superstitious man and immediately dismissed a literal interpretation of what Kaspar had said.However, he was prepared to accept that one or more of the older boys might have found a way to terrorize some of the younger ones.Half the city kids, marooned far from home in an alien environment, were already scared of the dark.It wouldn’t take much more than some ghost stories and a couple of Halloween masks to tip them over the edge.Again, Elgot would have nominated Leonard Levesque as a prime suspect, but unless Levesque had added bilocation to his skill set, he wasn’t the one who’d made Kaspar hide in a closet and wet himself from fear.
As he neared the closed door of Santopietro’s office, Elgot heard voices inside: Santopietro and Renders.Elgot was about to knock, then paused.He heard just one word clearly, the one his mother used to refer to as the “c-word,” and another that might have been a name but was more muffled.Elgot experienced a similar sensation to when, as a child, he heard his parents giggling behind their bedroom door, followed by sounds that might have been expressions of pain, pleasure, or some adult combination of both.The two incidents, distant and recent, coalesced as he heard Renders laugh filthily.Elgot started to walk away, but he was only halfway along the hall when Santopietro’s office door opened behind him.Elgot had the presence of mind to turn on his heel, so that when Renders emerged, Elgot appeared to be walking toward the office, not away from it.
“Everything okay?”Renders asked, as Santopietro poked his head around the frame.
“Not especially,” said Elgot.“I found Kaspar Filipowski in a closet over in Ford, scared half to death.”
“Did one of the boys do something to him?”Santopietro asked.
Elgot wasn’t sure how to reply.Eventually he settled for: “The rest of them were in the hall, waiting for the movie to start.But something frightened Kaspar enough to make him want to hide.”
Elgot watched a shadow pass over Renders’s face, but it was Santopietro who spoke.
