Chapter 48
Icky’s father could not have been less like his son. Dr. Murphy was dark-haired, tall, and energetic—without the use of drugs. Bald on top, he wore his hair close-cropped and cultivated a moustache, with reading glasses low on his nose and a polka dot bow tie.
He was clearly angry. In fact, Dr. Murphy had been angry ever since Icky had shown a lack of interest and aptitude for sports at the age of eight; a fair amount of his rage was directed toward Chief Black, who had been the coach who cut Icky from his first Little League baseball team. He didn’t bother to try to hide his hostility as he answered the front door. “Fantastic. You’re here with that charlatan. I can assure you I’ve been answering questions all morning. I’m in no mood to be pestered with nonsense.”
“Wouldn’t dream of bothering you at a time like this if it weren’t important,” said Chief Black.
“I need to get back to my patients. At least I can help them. Some of them even listen to me.”
“Icky had a wild streak,” the Chief remarked sympathetically.
“Yes, he did. He got that from me. But he didn’t get my sense of direction. Instead he got his mother’s preference for living in the moment. A bad combination. But it all would have come right if he hadn’t got tangled up with that slut.”
“Excuse me?”
“The Wales girl. She’s the one who got him started, mixed up with the wrong sort of people. Her parents provided no supervision. When they were 15, they’d go to her house and do whatever they wanted.”
Chief and Bruno exchanged embarrassed glances. “Actually, the reason we’re here is to ask if you might have a recent photograph that we could borrow …?”
Dr. Murphy didn’t let him finish. “Of Newton? Why would you want that?”
“Actually of Alison. We’re trying to locate her. Guys often keep a photo of their girlfriends, you know.”
“Not in this house, you wouldn’t find something like that. He was always at that job of his at the Lenape. I imagine he might have kept some things there.”
“Thanks for the suggestion. That’ll be our next stop.” The Chief turned to leave.
He pulled up short when he heard Bruno speaking for the first time. “Dr. Murphy. You’re taking this hard. Is there anything I can do for you?”
Icky’s father looked at Bruno as though he were an alien asking if he wanted his brain removed. “I am fine, thank you,” he replied through tightly pursed lips. “I lost my son about a dozen years ago and have been moving on since then. I am simply irritated by all the red tape and your inability to establish a safe environment in this town. Now please leave me alone and don’t intrude on my personal affairs again.”