94: “Are you ready to talk about the fire, Anson?”
He saw my leg tap before I was able to stop it. I placed a hand on my knee.
“Do you know how many bodies were found inside the house?”
I would not let my leg tap.
“Three. I’ve been in close contact with the local authorities since the start of your visit with us, and they have yet to make a proper identification on even one of them. Because the bodies were burned so badly, they’re working with dental records. Without something to compare them to, they’re having a tough time. They’re waiting for one of two things to happen: either someone will be reported missing and a comparison of dental records will reveal a match, or you provide us with information that leads to identification. The authorities believe you know who those people are. They desperately want to speak to you about it, but since you’re a minor and currently under my care, they’re not permitted to do so. That could change, of course—all I have to do is sign a couple of forms and they’ll be able to sweep right in here and take you away to someplace where they’ll try and make you talk. I can’t imagine such a place would be pleasant, and I would absolutely hate to see something like that happen to a fine young man such as yourself, but I can only hold the wolves at bay for so long. Do you know what a district attorney is, Anson?”
I knew what a district attorney was. They appeared fairly often in my comic books, but I would not tell him so. I had no intention of telling him anything.
“Was one of the men your father, Anson?”
My leg did not tap. His eyes were on me, a hawk on a mouse.
“Of the three bodies found inside your house, all were male. According to the police, your father hasn’t reported to work since the fire. That leads them to believe he was killed in the fire. They’re concerned about your mother too. She seems to have disappeared as well. They’re quite concerned, actually. I think some of them may suspect she started the fire. The house was covered in an accelerant, most likely gasoline. From what I’ve been told, the place was saturated. Somebody had been thorough in their efforts. Did your parents get along? Did your mother have any reason to hurt your father? Was he hurting her? Did he beat her?”
“Father would never lay a hand on Mother.”
I didn’t want to talk. I knew I shouldn’t talk, but I would not allow someone to say something wicked of Father. Not this man, not anybody.
“But your father was in the house when it happened, wasn’t he?”
“I don’t know. I was at the lake.”
The doctor slipped his glasses on, pushing them up the bridge of his nose. “You told the firemen and later the policemen you had been fishing at the lake for hours and came home when you saw the smoke, yet you carried no tackle box or fishing pole and they found nothing at the lake to indicate you had either. They think you lied.”
“I don’t lie.”
“You lied to me about your medication. You lied about taking haloperidol, a very serious drug.”
“That wasn’t a lie, that was a fib.”
“What is the difference between a lie and a fib, Anson?”
My leg tapped, but only once.
“Do you know where your mother went, Anson? After she started the fire that killed your father?”
Mother hadn’t killed Father, and Mother didn’t start the fire. I wanted to tell him that. I wanted to shout it out. I wanted to jump from this chair, take the pen from his hand, and embed it deep in his neck and watch the blood spurt out all over his argyle sweater and fake-smile pictures on the wall. I didn’t, though. I said nothing.
“A mother’s instincts to protect her young are some of the fiercest known to man. Did your father hurt you? Did he touch you in a bad way? Is that why she wanted him dead?”
“Father would never hurt me either.”
“You were examined at the hospital prior to coming here, and they found no evidence of abuse, so I suppose that is true. Unfortunately, I don’t know how thorough they were in their examination. I have faith. My staff would have covered all bases, but you were taken to a county hospital and I can’t vouch for the skill and ability of the people working at a place like that. Some of those places can be downright barbaric, like stepping into a third-world tent city.”
“I was skipping rocks.”
“What?”
“I never told the firemen or the police I was fishing. I was skipping rocks at the lake. I like to skip rocks.”
“That is not what it says in the police report, Anson. Lying or fibbing are both bad, not things you want to do with me.”
“The report is wrong.”
He removed his glasses, and I watched them fall and dangle around his neck.
The window in his office didn’t have bars on it. Rain began to fall.
“Where did you go to school, Anson?”
“Mother homeschooled me.”
“Really? That is interesting.”
“Why?”
“Remember the tests we gave you on your second day? You scored extremely high on all of them.”
“I enjoy tests. They’re fun.”
“Your mother must be a very intelligent woman. What does she do for a living?”
“I told you, she works in publishing.”
He scribbled at his notes but did not glance down. “You did tell me that, but there is no record of her being employed, not recently, not at all. Your parents filed joint tax returns, and no employment has ever appeared for her. The IRS performed a detailed search at the request of the district attorney I mentioned earlier. That man is a bit of a bulldog, and he’s itching for the opportunity to talk to your mother.”
“I don’t know where she is.”
“Does it bother you that she left you? Those protective instincts I mentioned, I imagine it would be terribly difficult for a mother to abandon her only child and completely cut contact, just write him off as if he didn’t exist at all, throw him away like last night’s trash. I’m not sure what would drive a woman to do that. What did you do to make her hate you so?”
This time when my leg began to tap, I did not stop it. Instead, I watched the rain outside.