Pumpkin Eater. Jeffrey Round
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least.”
Dan thought of Darryl’s badly beaten face, the severed ear. He had a flash of the body hanging overhead, like a hideous goblin in a child’s horror story. He thought of the blood dripping onto his face as he lay on the floor after being swiped at with the pipe. It was common for the police to prevent the next of kin from seeing a badly damaged corpse. He wondered how much to tell her.
“They’re probably trying to make sure he looks presentable before you see him. You don’t want your last image of him to upset you.”
She was watching him closely. “He must have been badly beaten.”
Dan reached out a hand and put it on her shoulder. “I’m very sorry, Darlene.”
She nodded, blubbering and unable to speak for almost a minute. Then the fury died out and she looked up again.
“I wish I’d told you about his past earlier,” she said. “He never wanted anyone to know. He made me promise never to tell anyone.”
Dan shook his head. “Believe me, it wouldn’t have made any difference. I put out a number of calls, but my sources found where your brother was staying too late. I don’t see how we could have found him any earlier, even if we’d known more about him. He was just too well hidden.”
She nodded in recognition of his generosity in saying this. Even if she believed him, it wouldn’t help her live with herself.
“Not well enough, I guess.”
Dan hesitated, but he needed to ask. “Is it possible your brother might have had contact with his former girlfriend since his release from prison?”
Her eyes shifted. For a moment he saw her as a younger woman, watching her brother’s life fall apart in a court of law for something she’d known but done nothing about.
“If he did, he didn’t tell me about it. I doubt Darryl even knew where to find her. The girl’s father moved the family away right after the trial.”
Dan looked at this short, thin woman with the worn face. In another few years, he might pass her on the street and not recognize her. She was so unexceptional looking that he likely wouldn’t take a second glance. She’d disappear into the crowd and lose herself forever. Just one more lost soul with a burden too huge to bear.
She walked him to the door. Dan stood on the porch, ready to leave her to mourn privately. He felt her hand on his arm.
“Wait, please.”
He turned back to her.
Her dark eyes stared at him. “Will you help find this monster? Whoever killed Darryl?”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help, but I’m not a cop.”
“No. But you’re a good man. I can see that. That’s why I know you will help.” She let go of his arm, but her eyes held him. “Please?”
He nodded. “I’ll do what I can.”
He knew he shouldn’t have promised. His mind was already on the other files on his desk upstairs in the calm study, the living who still needed him. His interest wasn’t in the dead, however sad their story.
Dan got in his car. He glanced in the mirror, watching the house move away in reverse. All he saw was a beige bungalow, as small and unexceptional as its owner.
Darryl Hillary’s savaged features stayed with him all the way back to town, racing toward the cityscape with its sweeping waterfront high rises, the Rogers sports dome, the CN Tower dominating everything. He wondered if Darryl had begged for his life in his final moments and whether the killer had enjoyed watching him grovel in the ash-filled slaughterhouse. The location was as gruesome and ironic a place for a death as any he could imagine. It was in keeping with the cruel imagery of nursery rhymes and fairy tales: hideous witches, vicious wolves, poisoned apples, haunted castles, and all the terrible things lurking in the shadows and waiting for disobedient children.
What had gone through Darryl’s mind when he learned his father had turned him in to the authorities for having sex with his underage girlfriend? Laws were meant to protect the weak and the unwilling. By the sounds of it, the girlfriend had been more than willing. Where was the crime in two people wanting pleasure from each other, even if one was younger than the law deemed acceptable? The real crime lay beneath a sheet in the Toronto morgue — a man beaten to death because he’d loved someone younger than himself.
Dan had wanted to ask Darlene if their father was still alive, but he stopped himself. What would the old man think now of his handiwork? Would he be pleased to know his son had had a final comeuppance for his youthful recklessness? How much in love did you have to be for it to be all right to have sex with someone younger? Darryl’s sister had said the girlfriend hadn’t been allowed to speak in Darryl’s defence during the trial. The law dealt with technicalities, but it couldn’t measure human emotion. Or the urge for revenge. But that was getting ahead of things a bit, assuming Darryl’s death had anything to do with his criminal record.
He turned off the Gardiner and headed for home. Dan doubted there was much he could do for Darlene or Darryl at this point. He had his contacts and he could ask around to see if anyone knew anything, but the case was now in the hands of the police. Any overt activity on Dan’s part could be construed as unlawful interference. That was a problem Dan didn’t need or want.
What remained was to go back to the sort of humdrum tedium that marked most of his cases. He thought of the numerous Internet bookmarks he’d amassed over the past few years. The Help Us Find websites listing absconding debtors and child support payment defaulters. Much of it was dreary work and he detested it, but it was what he did best.
At four o’clock, he headed over to the downtown YMCA. He parked and waited for his son to emerge from his basketball game. Dan stayed in the car. The heat outside had swelled unbearably. Ked wasn’t a great player, but he was dedicated and made up for his lack of skill in enthusiasm. He was one of the few kids Dan knew who played for the love of the sport, not out of any sort of bloodlust and competitive instinct. When he finally appeared, Dan was surprised to see a blonde girl hanging onto his arm as he came down the steps. Her hold was friendly, not possessive. Still, she could be twelve or thirteen, where Ked was about to turn fifteen in a month. What happened once he was sixteen and she was only thirteen?
Dan waited and watched. The pair exchanged a few words then the girl laughed and ran off to join two other girls by the bike rack. Ked waved at them and turned to look for his father’s car.
As far as Dan knew, Ked hadn’t started dating, but they’d had several talks about the topic. The previous month, Ked had surprised him by being forthright on the topic of his own sexuality.
“Would you be disappointed if I turned out to be straight?” he asked.
It was all Dan could do not to laugh. He mustered a serious expression before answering. “Not at all,” he said. “I’m counting on you to give me grandchildren to look after me in my dotage.”
He hadn’t even thought of the possibility, but now that he said it he liked the thought of a continuance of his line.
“Seriously, Dad?”
Dan nodded. “Seriously. I just hope you’re not disappointed that your father is gay.”
Ked looked dismayed. “No, Dad. I don’t care about that. I love you for whatever you are.”
“And the same holds true for me. You wouldn’t disappoint me by being yourself. In fact, I expect you to do just that.”
Ked had seemed satisfied with that answer.
He ran over to the car now. Dan popped the lock and his son got in, looking relaxed and tanned. Just another handsome fourteen-year-old, happy to be alive and living in a land where certain freedoms were a given.
“Good game?” Dan asked.
“Awesome!” Ked said.
Fifteen minutes later, they