With Child (22 page)

"It's an invasion of privacy," he said desperately. "There are laws against it. I'm sure there are."

They were on the stairs now, the back ones, which did not run right past the Hidalgo door. "I thought hackers believed in freedom of information," she commented.

"Corporate or governmental information, sure, but not private stuff."

"Never mind, Richard, I won't make you read it. Just unlock the door and I'll rob the palace."

They got into the apartment without being seen. Richard booted up, then tapped and scowled at the keyboard for a while before giving a brief grunt of satisfaction as Jules's files fell open before them.

"Before I open these," he said to her, "I need to know if you want to hide your tracks."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, as it is, when I go into one of these, the computer will record that it was opened on this date and time. If you don't want that to happen, I have to change the date on the computer so it thinks it's last month, or last year. It's not perfect, and someone looking for it would probably see it, but it's a way of escaping a quick glance. I can be more elaborate if you like, and nobody would ever know, but that takes more time."

"No, we don't need to be paranoid about this. Go ahead and do the simpler cover."

The files Richard opened were as tidy as Kate would have expected, clearly delineated between work and private material. She had him open each one to be sure, but many of them were simply for school - science and English assignments, book reports and homework of various kinds.

There were three oddball files, and Kate, knowing that Jules used a compatible, if more advanced, version of the word processing program that Lee had on their computer, had him copy them onto a disc. He then closed down the files, restored the proper date to the computer's brain, and shut it down.

"Should we wipe off our prints?" he suggested eagerly.

"No," she said, to his disappointment. When they left, it was quite dark, and again nobody noticed their presence.

There was a lot of material on the disc, and Lee's archaic printer was smelling overheated before Kate finished. But that was nothing compared to what the stuff did to her brain as she read far into the night, lying on the couch in the guest room.

She fell asleep at some time before dawn, waking three hours later with a drift of papers covering her and the floor around the sofa, like a caricature of a park-bench sleeper with a blanket of newspapers. She groaned, eased her rigid neck, and cobbled the papers together in rough order before walking stiffly down the stairs to the coffeepot.

"Sleeping beauty," commented Jon. He was constructing a shopping list, which always seemed to involve turning out the entire contents of every cupboard. Fortunately, there was a bit of cold coffee in the pot. Kate splashed it into a mug and put it in the microwave to heat.

"Do you think we could bear to have lentils again?" he asked her. He was tapping his teeth with the eraser end of the pencil, a gesture Kate suddenly recognized as pure Lee, adopted by her caretaker.

"I like lentils," she said finally.

"Maybe I should substitute flageolet. Such a saucy name, don't you think?"

"They sound delicious," she said absently, turning to remove the still-cold coffee from the whirring machine. Dio - she'd meant to call Dio before he went to school.

She took the cup into the living room, making a face when she sipped it, and paused to get her notebook from her briefcase. She flipped through it to find the phone number she wanted, sat down, dialed, sipped, and grimaced again, then sat forward when the phone was answered.

"Wanda Steiner? This is Kate Martinelli."

"Hello, my dear. How is your poor head?"

"Much better, thanks. How is Dio doing?"

"He's coming along nicely. I do like him. He's one of the nicest boys we've had in a long time. Not a mean bone in his body, despite everything he's been through."

"Has he given you any other ideas about his past? Where he came from, what his name is?"

"As you know, Inspector" - Kate grinned to herself: When being official, both Steiners invariably called her Inspector Martinelli; otherwise, to the wife, she was Kate, dear - "I try to give my boys as much privacy as I can, and they know I won't violate their confidence. However, having said that, there's really nothing to tell. I think he may have come from a medium-sized city in some western state, and I believe his mother died within the past five years."

"That's more than he told us."

"Oh, he hasn't said anything directly. I judged it by his habits, and the fact that he has very pretty manners when he chooses. He spent a childhood around a woman who loved him and taught him well, but he's had a fair amount of rough treatment since then. There are scars on his back, you know."

"Are there," Kate said grimly.

"From a belt or a switch, I'd say, which drew blood, and more than once." The words were cool and factual - she had, after all, seen worse beneath her roof - but the voice was not.

"And he hasn't let a name slip?"

"Never. In fact, he's taken the birth name of his friend, your partner's daughter."

"Jules?"

"When he first came to us out of the hospital, we told him he needed two names for the records, at school and so forth, so he asked her permission to borrow it temporarily."

"Good... heavens."

"I thought it was rather sweet."

"I wonder what her mother thinks."

"I doubt that she knows," Wanda said complacently. "So, were you just asking after the boy, or was there something in particular I could help you with?"

"There is, yes. I'd like to talk to him again after school, if you don't mind. I'll drive him home afterward."

"He was a little upset last time, dear," she said in oblique accusation.

"I know; I'm sorry. And I can't promise he won't be upset this time, as well."

"Tell me about it."

"Dio knows something about Jules that may have some bearing on her disappearance."

There was a long silence while Wanda Steiner thought it over. "You're not going to arrest him?"

"Absolutely not."

"Or threaten him with arrest."

"I won't threaten him with anything. I like the kid, too."

"That doesn't mean you won't do your job, Inspector Martinelli. Very well, you may talk with him after school, under two conditions. One, that you tell him clearly, at the beginning, he does not have to talk with you, and two, that you keep firmly in mind, Inspector, that if you cause him to run away from here or lose the progress he has made in the last month, I will be very upset."

It was funny, Kate thought, how this gray-haired lady with the grandmotherly act could produce a threat of sharpened steel with her voice.

"Yes, ma'am," she said meekly.

However, when she called Dio's school to leave a message, she was disconcerted to find they had no student by the name of Dio Cameron.

"I was just told he was with you. In fact, his guardian gave me your number."

"Just a moment, please. I'll let you talk to one of the vice-principals about it."

Before Kate could stop her, the call clicked and hummed, and a woman answered.

"Cathryn Pierce."

"My name is Kate Martinelli. I'm trying to leave a message for one of your students, and I was just told that he isn't registered there."

"But you think he should be?"

"I was told so - by his current guardian, Wanda Steiner."

"This is one of Wanda's boys?"

"He's using the name Dio Cameron, although --"

"Dio Kimbal."

"
Kimbal?"

"That's how he registered, although I was told that wasn't his actual name. Why, is there something wrong?"

"No, no. Sorry, I must've misunderstood Wanda. But there couldn't be two kids named Dio who live with the Steiners."

"Not likely," the vice-principal agreed.

"Anyway, I'd appreciate it if you'd get a message to him, to say that Kate Martinelli would like to speak with him after school. Tell him he doesn't have to but that she'd appreciate it."

There was a pause while Pierce wrote the message down; then she said, "Okay, I'll have it delivered."

"Thank you very much. How's he doing, by the way?"

"Surprisingly well. Are you a friend?"

"I found him, when he was sick."

"You're the police officer who saved his life and was nearly killed?"

"Both exaggerations. But I'm glad he's doing okay."

"He seems to have a lot of catching up to do, but by his tests, I'd say he's a bright boy. Not that being bright is everything."

"It probably helped him survive."

"There is that, yes. Well, thank you, Ms Martinelli. Let me know if there's anything else I can help you with."

Kate thanked her in return, and cut the connection with her finger. Kimbal? After a moment she allowed the button to come up, and dialed the Steiner number again.

"Wanda? Kate here. Tell me, why is Dio using the name Kimbal?"

"I'm sorry, I assumed you knew. Kimbal is apparently the girl's birth name. I ought to have made it clear, but I thought you knew her so well."

"Who told you her last name was Kimbal?"

"I suppose Dio must have. That is to say, I know her name is Cameron now, but I assumed her mother changed it after the divorce. Is this not the case?" she asked, sounding more resigned than concerned. "Has Dio been lying to me?"

"No. I mean, you seem to know more about Jules than I do."

"I never met her, or her mother, but it sounds like she was a lovely girl."

Kate felt her throat constrict at the flavor of eulogy in Wanda Steiner's words, but she forced herself to say, "Yes, she was. Thanks, Wanda. I won't bother you any more."

"It's not a bother, dear. Tell me, do you want me to say anything to Dio about the name? I will if it's important, but at this stage with my boys I generally find it best to keep the number of confrontations to a minimum."

Kate agreed that it was a question that could be put off for an easier time, thanked her again, and hung up.

After a minute of staring unseeing at the carpet, she blinked and then went in search of Lee, whom she found in the consulting rooms, where she saw her clients. There was no client this morning, just Lee, tidying the crowded shelves of figurines used in the therapeutic process.

"Can I consult?" Kate asked.

"The couch is free."

"Not for me, Frau Doktor. A consultation about a mutual friend." Lee put down her cleaning cloth and lowered herself into a chair. Kate sat in the chair across from her, picking up a glass unicorn to fiddle with. "As you know, I'm trying to reconstruct why and how Jules disappeared."

"There's been nothing to connect her with the Strangler, then?"

"Al would've called. No, I think something else happened to her."

"But I thought - Are you saying you think she's alive?"

"No." Kate took a breath, then forced herself to say it. "I think Jules is dead. But I'm not convinced the Strangler did it. There are too many oddities: Jules was getting weird phone calls from a man; on the drive north, she seemed at times preoccupied, touchy; and unless she was snatched from the parking lot at the motel, which is unlikely, she opened her door to her abductor. Voluntarily. No, I'm uncomfortable with a number of things, and I think there's a chance that someone either watched her or communicated with her over the Internet, or both, then either followed us on the freeway - which wouldn't have been difficult to do, and I certainly wasn't watching over my shoulder - or else arranged to meet her along the way, as soon as she was away from the fairly tight watch Jani kept over her." She rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "I don't know, Lee. I'm just trying to find an explanation that makes sense."

"What did you want to consult about?"

"I broke into Jules's computer."

"How on earth did you do that?"

"I had some help. A lot of what I found was what you'd expect, school assignments and such, but there were three files that bother me. One of them seems to be a kind of novel she's writing, all about a little girl - her words - named Julie. I should mention that according to Dio, one of the things her strange phone caller said was, "You're mine, Julie." The story is an endless round of these idyllic episodes, picnics and horseback rides and travel and camping and cooking dinner at home, with her in the middle of a family: Mommy, Daddy, and Julie. Pages and pages of detail, actually very monotonous. If it hadn't been in her personal files and had her kind of vocabulary, I wouldn't have thought she could write such drivel.

"The second file was a lot more like Jules. It was notes and references and statistics, all about relationships."

"Relationships?"

"Marriage, mostly. Pieces of articles about marriage and divorce, statistics about the effects of divorce on children, things that sounded like advice-to-the-lovelorn columns -how to keep your man, things like that - next to a part of some university study with a hundred footnotes, all of them copied. Oh, and personal research she'd done, as well. I recognized several conversations I'd had with her over the last few months, transcribed. She had an amazing memory."

"And the third file?"

"That was the strangest of all. She named the file "J.K.," just the initials. Now, I just got off the phone to the vice-principal of Dio's high school, and she told me that Dio is using the last name Kimbal. Wanda Steiner, who's fostering Dio, thought that was Jules's original last name."

"J.K."

"Yes."

"What's in the file?"

"A name. That's the whole file, just a name: Marsh Kimbal."

Lee thought for a moment, looking progressively more unhappy. "You've got to talk to Al, ask if he knows who Marsh Kimbal is."

"And how do I explain how I got the name? Broke into his apartment, violated Jani's privacy?"

"You did get the name from Dio's school."

"The last name, yes, but the name Marsh would take some explaining. I know I'll have to tell him eventually. But first I need to talk to Dio: There are things he's not telling me. And I'll run a search on the name Marsh Kimbal, see if anything turns up, though it's probably a pseudonym."

"You still haven't asked me a question," Lee said mildly.

"I have several. First, would you say those first two files indicate a normal reaction on the part of a single-parent child?"

"A highly intelligent thirteen-year-old who doesn't have a family aside from her mother; who, as you told me the other day, just learned her father was a violent criminal; who, furthermore, is going through a rough time with her mother and is facing the upheaval of having a new father wished on her, even a father she's fond of - all this considered, I'd say yes, it's an unusual interest in family dynamics, but an understandable one."

"Okay. Now, you know Jules; you know how smart she is. Could someone who found out about this fixation --"

"Not a fixation, I'd say that was too strong a word."

"Okay, this strong interest - could he sucker her into running away by playing on a sense of family?"

Lee saw immediately where she was heading. "There've been a number of cases like that lately, haven't there? Kids making friends through the Internet and running away to join them."

"Exactly."

"And you're asking me if Jules might have done that?"

"I can't believe it. I'd have thought she was way too bright to fall for a con."

"A con she wants to believe in? A fantasy to fit her own, a way out of the problems she's had building up in school and at home, a way to follow the romanticized notions of homelessness she may have built up around Dio? Kate, you know as well as I do that a teenager always believes he or she is both isolated and invulnerable - "You don't understand" and "It can't happen to me" form the bedrock of her age group."

"So you'd say she could have done it?"

"Gone with someone who presented himself as a father figure? Sure. Were there any Internet conversations in storage?"

"None. Richard - the computer kid - said there were signs she'd dumped files. But she'd done it so cleanly, he couldn't retrieve them."