The Forgotten (13 page)

“But remember that we’re working with a different population here. They’re all going to look like they’re trying to hide something, because that’s their normal behavior. They’re fuckups. They’ve got years of experience masking guilt or shifting the blame. We’re looking for something out of the ordinary.”

Webster said, “Y’all really think one of them did it and stuck around to be questioned?”

Martinez said, “Maybe we have a real psycho in our midst.”

Bontemps looked at the motley crew. “That very well could be.”

“I’m going to see if I can get Tarpin’s permission to open up the kids’ knapsacks,” Decker said. “When the parents placed their kids in the program, they explicitly gave Tarpin and Baldwin permission to do random checks of their personal possessions for drugs and contraband.”

“This is sounding familiar,” Webster said.

“I realize that,” Decker answered.

“Who’s Tarpin?” Martinez asked.

“The dude in the camouflage,” Decker said.

“He looks like he could do some damage. What’s his role in the camp?” Martinez asked. “Boot kicker?”

“Chief Nature Master,” Decker said. “The activity coordinator. I think he does everything except the actual talking therapy.”

“Why does the name Tarpin ring a bell?” Webster said.

“You’re right,” Martinez stated. “But I can’t place it. What’s his gimmick? Is he a survival expert or something?”

“Probably.”

“That’s it!”
Wanda looked up with triumphant glee on her face. “Remember the Preservers of Ethnic Integrity? Darrell Holt and Erin Kershan?”

“Yeah, yeah!” Webster said. “The flyers they were printin’ up!”

“Tarpin’s name was on it!” Martinez said. “He was the English-only guy.”

“This is sounding
very
familiar,” Wanda remarked.

Decker raised his eyebrows. “The flyer should be in the original case file. I’ll look at them later.”

Wanda said, “At the time we didn’t have anything to connect the Preservers of Ethnic Integrity to Golding and the
temple vandalism. I don’t know if Tarpin and Golding knew each other before this tragedy, but it would be interesting to find out.”

“Whatever happened to that other racist kid? The hacker.” Decker snapped his fingers. “Ricky Moke. Or whatever his name really is. Wasn’t he also a supposed survivalist?”

“I think that’s how Darrell and Erin saw him,” Wanda said.

“Graduate of Mervin Baldwin’s program?” Martinez asked.

“Let’s check it out.” Decker paused. “In the immediate, I’d sure like to locate Baldwin’s wife. She’s not at her house or at the clinic, and that’s making me nervous. I gave the go-ahead for immediate entrance on the grounds of immediate danger to her welfare, but then we had to retreat from the premises. I’m trying to get a court-ordered search warrant, especially for Baldwin’s clinic. Tarpin suggested some kind of vendetta. Maybe something’ll pop up in his case files.”

Martinez said, “Aren’t his case files confidential?”

“Not if someone’s in imminent danger.” Decker paused. “A crazy patient coming back to get you. What’s the likelihood of that? Probably as likely as old criminals coming back to hunt us down.”

“It happens,” Martinez said.

“Not very often. Know what the most dangerous occupation for that kind of thing is? Law. People get real pissed at lawyers. Anyway, I don’t know for certain if Dee Baldwin is in imminent danger. As a matter of fact, she just might be the perp.” Decker described the scene inside the hut. “A wife finding her husband and a kid in that kind of pose, I could see her going into a rage.”

“I dunno, Loo,” Martinez said. “You think the camp shrink would have a homosexual affair with a minor with all these kids
and
Tarpin
and
his wife hanging around?”

Wanda said, “Maybe Dee paid him a surprise visit.”

“At three in the morning?”

“At three in the morning, it would really be a
surprise
visit,” Wanda said. “And that’s why she waited. She had sus
picions. Wives know that kind of thing. She wanted to catch him when he least expected it.”

Decker said, “That could explain the premeditation aspect of this crime. The murderer had to have used a silencer. Otherwise, he or she or they would have woken up the entire camp. She comes up here with a gun and a purpose…” Decker thought a moment. “She would have had to use a vehicle to get up here. So somewhere among these umpteen tire tracks would be an impression that matches her vehicle. So let’s get a casting on every single tire print here and let’s say a…half-mile radius, assuming she might have parked a ways down so as not to create too much noise. Wanda, you chalk off every single tire track you see and have the techs do the plaster work.”

She frowned. “That’s gonna take up a lot of time.”

“Yes, it will,” Decker said. “You have a problem with that?”

“Uh, no, sir, not at all.”

“Good. Tom and Bert will help you after they’re done. Tom, you take the older kids—which’ll take time because the questioning will be more involved. Bert, you take the information on the minor kids and also handle Tarpin because you’ve been in the service. He claims to be a Marine…mentioned something about Serbia and Rwanda. To me, Tarpin looks like a mercenary. I’ll call Oliver to do a background check on him. I’ve got to call on Jill and Carter Golding before they hear the news from somewhere else. Of course, if anyone wants to switch places…?”

Silence.

“Thought not.” Decker squinted into the hot sun, felt its fire spitting in his face. It was shaping up to be one hell of a day.

They had to
have known something was really wrong, because if it had just been another minor run-in with the law, Decker wouldn’t have come in person. But there was no way for them to expect news as bad as this. And there was no palatable way for Decker to deliver it.

Standing like a robot, witnessing all the horror, shock, and pain known only to other grieving parents—the screams, the sobs, the sudden clutching of the breast. The father trying to comfort the mother, the mother refusing all of it. Then came the immediate denial.

You must be mistaken.

Are you sure?

You could have made a mistake.

How can you be certain?

You’re wrong!

But Decker was not wrong. This part never got easier. He only got older.

At first, they would hate him because he had told them the unspeakable. Then a week would pass…two weeks…a month. They would come to view him as the link, the one who would impart some logic into the madness, their conduit to the investigation, the one they could call, yell at, scream at, cry with. Eventually a relationship would grow—maybe a
symbiotic one, maybe an antagonistic one—but some kind of relationship.

Still standing at the doorway—because no one had invited him in yet—Decker spoke in short sentences. Even so, his words weren’t registering.

Jill’s eyes had turned feral. She hissed when she spoke. “You didn’t know him all that well. You could have made a mistake.”

Decker said, “Maybe we should all go inside.”

They stared back at him: Jill with her red, pinched nose dripping clear snot all over her green sweats, and Carter, pale green in complexion and stymied by shock. He was dressed in a work shirt and jeans. Decker lowered his head, attempting to cross the threshold. Passively, they split ranks and let him enter. Carter immediately fell into a chair, battling a bad case of nausea, dropping his head between his knees. But it was Jill who made the sudden run for the bathroom. They could both hear her retching.

Carter whispered, “How do you know? How are you certain?”

“The camp’s coordinator—Corporal Tarpin—positively identified him.”

“Oh, God!” Tears flowed down the man’s cheeks. “But just maybe he made a mistake?”

Pleading, begging. It was pure pathos, heart wrenching.

“I’m afraid not, Mr. Golding. I saw him as well.”

More awful silence. The questions would come. Slowly at first, then they’d barrage him, getting angrier at each query. It was a pattern that Decker was all too familiar with.

Carter said, “I’m grateful I was home.”

Talking from a male perspective. He had been there to take care of his wife. Carter didn’t know what Decker knew, that she wouldn’t want his care and she wouldn’t want his protection. What she wanted was her son back, and since she couldn’t have that, he was of no use to her at this time.

Carter looked up. “At least she didn’t hear it alone.” A pause. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Carter pointed to a chair.

Decker sat.

“What…” That was all he could get out.

“Perhaps we should wait for your wife. She’ll want to know, sir. She’ll have to know.”

Carter didn’t argue. And eventually Jill did return, with mottled white skin and shaking hands.

Carter said, “He was going to tell…”

Silence.

She bit her lip as tears rushed from her eyes. Then she nodded quickly.

Short and simple. Decker said, “Right now, this is confidential. Dr. Baldwin was also murdered. They were found together in a double bedroll.”

Jill looked up and covered her mouth as her eyes widened. “Oh my God!” Breathing hard. “Oh my dear God! Together?”

Decker nodded.

“So where was Mervin?” Carter said. “Are you implying that
he
did it?”

Decker nearly kicked himself, realizing his error. “Mr. Golding, it was Mervin who was murdered. It’s Dee Baldwin who’s missing.”

Carter stood up, full of venom. “Just what are you saying?”

“I’m just telling you what we saw—”

“You didn’t
see
anything!” Carter yelled. “Furthermore, I don’t care what the hell you saw, I’m telling you it’s impossible! I know Ernesto enough to know that what you’re saying is pure bullshit! Someone is trying to discredit my son and I want to know why!”

More than discredit. Someone had murdered his son. Dad appeared more outraged by the inference of his son’s homo
sexuality than the actual murder. But that was only because the diversion was easier to digest.

“Why would someone do such a thing!” Carter was still screaming. He shook a finger at Decker. “This is…this is…” And then he melted, sinking into a chair. He laid his head in his hands and wept openly. His wife watched with wet eyes, still shaking and still ashen. She observed him without comforting him. It was horrible to watch. Decker knew if he spoke, the man would stop crying. But that wasn’t to anyone’s advantage. He let him go for a few more moments, then said, “I don’t know what happened, sir. But I
will
find out what happened.”

Carter looked up. “Why would…what do you think?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You must have some ideas,” Jill whispered.

“I’m sure I will have some ideas,” Decker said. “And when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“When can we see him?” Jill’s voice was barely audible.

“As soon as I hear it’s okay, I’ll come down and get you personally.”

“We can’t see him now?” Carter asked. “I want to see him now! I demand it!”

“Please, please, Mr. Golding.” Decker had his eyes closed, seeing the horror and knowing it was too much. “You must trust me with this one. I’ll tell you when it’s okay.”

Silence. Then came the muted sobs and the hand-wringing.

“How did…” Carter couldn’t say it.

“He died instantly,” Decker said. “I’m positive he didn’t feel a thing.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“But that’s what you want to know,” Decker said. “He didn’t suffer.” He paused. “I know you have another son, Karl. I’d like to talk to him as soon as you’ll allow it.”

“Why?” Carter asked.

“Because sometimes brothers confide in each other. I
know this from personal experience. I have two sons who are very close to each other and protective of each other. I’m sometimes regarded as the common enemy. Or just too overprotective—”

“Oh my God!” Jill blurted out. “Do you think that Karl’s in danger?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Decker answered. “I just want to find out what he knows about his brother.”

“Our children are very open with us,” Carter said. “If you have something to ask, I demand that you ask it of me.”

“Nothing specific to ask at the moment.” A lie. “Just walking down all avenues. Mr. Golding, do you have any information that might help me?”

“No! Of course not! Why did you ask that?”

“Please don’t take offense at anything I ask, sir. And I beg the same of you, Mrs. Golding. I am so sorry. The last thing I want to do is contribute to your pain.”

Jill stared at him through deep pools of sorrow. “So you don’t know who did it?”

“No,” Decker replied.

“And Dee Baldwin is missing?”

“Right now, we can’t locate her, that is correct.”

Jill clasped her shaking hands. “So what do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is Dee involved?”

“I don’t know.”

“And it was brutal?” Jill asked.

“It was instantaneous,” Decker replied.

Jill’s lower lip trembled. “He didn’t suffer?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“I know. He didn’t suffer.”

Jill started crying again. “I want to see my son,” she sobbed. “I
need
to see him!”

“As soon as it’s okay, I’ll take you down personally—”

“You already said that!” Carter snapped.

“I know. I’m repeating myself.”

“Can’t you speed things up?” Carter barked.

“The case is my top priority,” Decker said. “I’m moving as fast as I can, because that’s what we both want. That’s why it’s so important for me to get information early on. I hate to belabor this, but when do you think I could meet with Karl?”

Jill dried her eyes on a crumpled tissue. “What do you think Ernesto was hiding from us?”

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But kids hide things. Even kids who love their parents. And Ernesto loved you both very much—”

Carter made a snorting sound. “Don’t patronize me—”

“I’m not, sir. He told me that he loved and admired you both very much. Actually, he told me that the first time we talked alone…the day he confessed to the vandalism of the synagogue.”

Another protracted silence. Then once again Jill started to weep. “Thank you for saying that.”

Decker waited a moment before speaking. “This is just a gut feeling, so I could be completely wrong. I’m just wondering if this wasn’t connected to the vandalism. That maybe Ernesto had dealings with some dangerous thugs. That maybe he had gotten himself into a bad way and was too embarrassed to tell anyone.” A long pause. “I don’t know. I’m just pecking around.”

“Do you have some specific thugs in mind?” Jill demanded to know.

“When the temple was first vandalized, we checked out some neo-Nazi groups—”

“Ernesto wouldn’t know anything about that!” Carter insisted. His voice rose in pitch. “Why would he know anything about that?”

Decker said, “For a boy like Ernesto to vandalize…I was thinking that he somehow had been influenced by some pretty rotten people. People he wouldn’t mention to you, but perhaps Karl might know—”

“If you suspected that Karl knew something about the vandalism, why didn’t you talk to him when it happened?” Carter growled out.

“I believe I had asked to talk to him,” Decker said. “I think you had said no.”

Carter looked away. “I don’t remember that!”

“Well, maybe I’m wrong,” Decker said.

But they both knew he wasn’t wrong.

Jill bit her lip. “Karl doesn’t even know yet…does he?”

“You’re the first ones I’ve told.”

“But he’ll find out soon. It’s bound to make the news.” She jumped up and started pacing. “Carter, you have to call—”

Carter bounded out of the chair. “I’m on it.”

Jill said, “Can you please go now? We need some…I have to…” Her eyes watered. “I have to make some phone calls.” She sank back into the couch. “I don’t know if I can do it!”

Decker said, “Is there someone I can call for you?”

“My sister.” Jill gave him the number. “I really don’t feel well.”

“I’ll call her right now.”

“I’ll be in the bedroom upstairs.”

“Can I help you up?”

“No, I can…” She trudged over to the staircase, an old woman bound in shackles that would never come off. Climbing one step, two steps, then three and four. She stopped, turned, and faced him. Her voice was filled with tears. “When did you want to meet with Karl?”

“As soon as possible.”

“Come back in an hour.” She continued her climb to hell.

Decker looked around the chockablock furnishings and eventually found the phone. Three lines; one was lit up in red. Decker punched in the second line and called Jill’s sister. Her name was Brook. He told her to please come by her sister’s home now. When Brook asked for an explanation, Decker said he’d talk to her once she arrived on the premises.
As a rule, he didn’t deliver this kind of news over the phone.

Carter came back. “Where’s my wife?”

“Upstairs in the bedroom,” Decker said. “I’m waiting for her sister.”

“Which one? Brook?”

“Yes. There are others?”

“Philippa,” Carter said. “She lives in San Diego. Jill’s not that close to her. But I suppose she’ll have to be…told.” He looked about at nothing in particular. “I have to go pick up…my son…Karl. They’ve pulled him out of class. I didn’t tell anyone why…just that it was an emergency.”

“Would you like me to pick him up?” Decker offered. “Not to question him, just as a taxi service so you can stay with your wife.”

Carter looked somewhere past Decker’s shoulder. “No questions?”

“No, not in the car. Your wife said I can come back in an hour to talk to your son.”

Carter was silent.

“Or…” Decker tried, “I can wait here until Brook arrives. And you can go pick up your boy.”

Carter shook his head in confusion, tears in his eyes. “I don’t know. What do you think I should do?”

“Honestly? There’s nothing you can say or do for your wife at this moment. She’s in a state of shock. Your son will need you. And he’ll remember who came to pick him up. If you’re too unsteady to drive, I’ll send a car out for you.”

“I can drive.” Carter checked his pockets, then pulled out his car keys. “The school is ten minutes from here. I can make it.”

Decker nodded.

“You’ll wait here for Brook?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’ll tell her?”

“Yes, if you want me to.”

“Yes, I think…” He brushed back tears. “I suppose I’ll
have to call my siblings as well. I have two younger brothers.” His wet eyes were frozen in grief. “Thank God, my parents are dead.”

Karl was also broad across the chest and had iron-pumper arms, indicating to Decker that somewhere in the ectomorphic Golding lineage was a rampant mesomorphic gene. His face was fairer, but his complexion was rumpled like tapioca pudding. No beard growth yet, so lumps and bumps were visible in all their glory. His eyes were bluer than his brother’s, swimming in a sea of red. His nose was also red. He peered at Decker, but nothing registered in his eyes. It was as if Decker were inanimate.

Decker said, “Just a few questions, Karl. Tell me when you’ve had enough.”

“Okay.” It was a whisper. “It’s important that we talk now?”

“Yes.”

The boy averted his gaze. “All right.”

They were sitting on a leather couch in the boy’s bedroom, as spacious as Decker’s living room. It held the same plaster adobe-colored walls as the rest of the house and was furnished very sparsely—a bed, a desk and computer, a TV on a stand, bookshelves containing more videos than the printed word. With the air-conditioning on full-tilt, the place was crypt cold.