2005-08-12

21.
“The Sum of All Tears”

It was amazing how much everyone wanted to help. This was something that had hit every household in the town. No building in the world that had hosted children had avoided some kind of tears.

Everywhere he went in town, Han was greeting with eyes that said, “How can I help?”

He wondered if he would find the same spirit evident in the State Police.

He walked into Head Quarters and sought out Trooper Evan Turley, who was a childhood buddy who was always good for a favor.

Evan had been a so-so student back in school, but had always been someone you could depend on. He made a good trooper. In the five years he had worn the uniform Pappy had never heard a negative word said about him. Except at the poker table. He had a magic way of knowing just when to bluff and when to run away simpering. Pappy had always wanted to be a good poker player, but his emotions were always too close to the surface.

“Hey, Pappy,” The round faced man said with his ham sized hand held out. Han took that hand and instantly felt more comfortable.

“I am so glad to see you well,” The smiling man said, “I dropped by the hospital, but you were not awake.”

“Sleeping is one of my great talents,” The old man told him.

“I bet you’d like to know what we know about how you got in that bed. Am I right?” The State Trooper asked.

“That would make me happy,” He said in the least businesslike way he could muster, but he would like to get to the nitty gritty of it.

“We turned the whole thing over to one of Setonville’s own,” Evan said, walking down the hall.

Pappy sought not to fall behind the lanky trooper’s long strides.

They came to a door with no notation on it and Turley turned the knob. As the pair entered the room and were greeted by a face Pappy knew.

“Trooper Gates, I think you know Hannibal Agamemnon.”

As the two men shook hands their minds went in different directions.

Pappy remembered this face from a decade ago. This was one of the boys he had worried about back then. One of the schoolboys who was in that potential slate of victims that he and others chaperoned from here to there as much as possible. He was one of the successes, he was one of the ones who lived.

Han couldn’t be sure the boy survived because of the police intervention, but he wanted to hope that was the case.

“Pappy,” The boys said, and turned to the other trooper. “You may not know this Evan, but I became what I am because of this man.”

“Me too,” Evan admitted.

That surprised Pappy, but both made him grateful that he was there today.

“I was one of the boys Pappy saved 10 years ago, when the horror was happening,” Porter Gates said, “He counseled us, he gave us hope. I wanted to be able to do the same.”

These are the moments that make it worth living long enough, Pappy thought.

“Come on over here, Pappy, and I’ll give you what little we have on the case,” The Trooper said.

Evan Turley turned to leave and then stopped to shake Pappy’s hand again. “Let me know of anything I can do to help!”

Pappy smiled and watched the big man walk away.

Gates circled him and reached past to close the door.

It seemed he wanted Pappy for himself.

Pappy wouldn’t discourage this behavior.

22.
“Little of Anything”

Porter Gates sat behind his desk and looked at the case files arrayed before him.

“Pappy, we’ve looked at just about everything in Setonville both now and then,” He said apologetically, “And I am of the opinion that our killer is from out of town.”

Pappy didn’t say anything, but watched the boy speak.

“No one that was considered a suspect left town in the interim, so we would have had an idea of what they were doing. But, if the killer was from Hastings or one of the other towns nearby they could have left and returned without being the focus of a lot of inquiry.”

“That’s true,” Han mused, “So you’re thinking it was someone with a motive too . . .?”

“Well, if we had that, we’d have everything, wouldn’t we?” He said, almost sarcastically.

“Do you think it is a vendetta against the town?” Pappy asked.

“Possibly,” The Trooper answered, “We’re looking into it. We think it might also be something about land.”

The boy was treading water, Han thought. This was delaying thinking, not problem solving thinking. He was in the mode of gathering information without an eye for making anything out of it until he had all the possible pieces gathered.

That could last forever.

The boy wasn’t working like an investigator, he thought, he was working like a politician. Crimes are committed by some politicians, but very few are ever solved by politicians.

If they solved the problems, they would become out of work.

“Can I get copies of everything you have sent to me?” He asked.

“Certainly,” Gates said, as he stood and put out his hand. It was obvious that this session was over.

Pappy took his hand.

“By the way, how is Tooley?” He asked with the most off handed attempt at sincerity Hannibal had seen without a baby at election time involved.

“Coming home tomorrow,” Pappy said.

“That’s great,” Gates said as the phone rang.

“Hello,” He said into the phone and it was like Pappy was no longer in the room.

Pappy got his attention long enough to let him know that he’d find his own way out.

He left the office and walked to the front door.

He found himself wiping his hand on his shirt for no physical reason.

2005-08-12

(no subject)

(no subject)