Orest Stelmach - The Boy Who Stole from the Dead

“Why would you say something like that? You know I’m going to come no matter what. I asked you a question. How are you?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Why are you acting this way? Why won’t you tell me what really happened that night? It can’t possibly be like you said. A man doesn’t walk up to you and try to stab you for no reason. Not even in New York. Especially not in Manhattan.”

Bobby let a few seconds pass. “Do you remember what you said to me when I opened the locket?”

After evading mobsters and government agents halfway around the world, Bobby had opened the locket to reveal its treasure. “No more lies,” Nadia said.

“That’s right. No more lies. And I haven’t lied to you since.”

“You’re saying you killed that man in self defense. He came at you with a knife first.”

“Yes.”

“And you never saw him before that night.”

Bobby didn’t answer.

“He had no reason to want to kill you.”

He remained mute.

“You didn’t expect to see him that night. This wasn’t a planned confrontation. Was it?”

Bobby looked at her with the same dead eyes he’d shown her in the courtroom.

“Why were you wearing only one shoe when you turned yourself in? It was a basketball shoe. It couldn’t have slipped off or been pulled off. You had to unlace it for it to come off. Where is your left shoe? Why did you take it off?”

Bobby turned his head away.

“Are you going to answer me? You know, I’m sitting here worried to death either someone’s going to kill you here or they’re going to convict you of murder, but if you keep acting so rudely to me I’m going to come across this table and smack you.” She had no intention of actually hitting him. Since straight talk wasn’t working, she was hoping to provoke a reaction.

Bobby sat still looking as though he was calculating something. Then he leaned across the table. “You want the truth?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, here’s the truth. I don’t like you. I never really liked you from the minute I first met you. You think you’re smarter than everyone else. And you don’t know how to have fun. That’s why no one wants to be around you. The only friend you have is Johnny and that’s only because you pay him. You’ll never get married. You’re going to die alone.”

His words stung. They brought tears to her eyes. She’d risked her life to bring him to America. She spent every penny she had to feed him, shelter him, and send him to prep school. And yet, she didn’t believe a word he was saying. He knew her vulnerabilities. He knew where to hit. For some reason he was trying to push her away.

Nadia leveled her chin at him.

“There are two bags outside for you. There’s a coat, sneakers, and four sets of underwear, socks, shirts, and pants in one bag. There’s six pencils, two notebooks, all the Harry Potter books, and four hockey magazines in the other. Everything is permitted. I checked. One of the hockey magazines is old. There’s a hole in one of the pages inside. That sound familiar?”

Bobby blinked. It was the magazine he’d brought from Ukraine. It had special sentimental value.

“Good,” Nadia said. “Nice to see you’re still human.”

“No, I’m not still human. I’m a machine. I’ve left your world. You mean nothing to me. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Bobby stood up. The guard opened the door. They disappeared down a corridor. A second guard came by and escorted Nadia out of the infirmary.

Nadia walked outside, waited for the bus, and boarded it. When it crossed the bridge off Rikers Island, she looked back at the jail.

Bobby was emphatic he hadn’t lied to her. When he’d made that point, she’d looked into his eyes and seen truth. Nadia believed him. The kid had a sense of honor. He said he’d never lie to her, and he was determined to live up to that promise. When Nadia asked him if he’d ever seen Valentine before Tuesday night, Bobby didn’t answer. When she asked if Valentine had a reason to want him dead, he remained quiet. Same as when she asked if he’d expected to see Valentine that night. Bobby refused to answer those three questions because he didn’t want to lie. By Nadia’s logic, her conclusion was unimaginable yet necessarily true.

Bobby and Valentine had known each other. Valentine had a motive for killing Bobby.

And they’d met Tuesday night knowing one of them might kill the other.

FOR SEVEN YEARS Nadia walked home from work along Madison Avenue and dreamed of owning a townhouse on one of the side streets of the Upper East Side. They defined charm, privacy, and success. The fantasy fueled her fourteen-hour days at the Monroe private equity firm. After she was fired last year, however, she avoided Madison altogether. But when she started her own business and landed her first two clients, she returned. Now, on the verge of stepping inside one of them for the first time, owning them once again seemed like nothing more than a fantasy.

The townhouse belonged to Trent and Meredith Mace. Nadia cheered with them during Fordham Prep hockey games. They’d gone out to dinner together after a couple of games.

Meredith opened the door, invited her in, and gave her a huge hug. She guided Nadia to a sitting room beyond the foyer. A glossy Old Masters portrait of a mother and her two sons hung on the wall. The boys sat at their mother’s feet.

“How is he?” Meredith said.

“I just got back from Rikers Island. He’s in the infirmary.”

“Did he get sick?”

“He had some issues with anxiety. And then he was beaten.”

Meredith let out a cry, covered her mouth. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry this happened to Bobby. And you. Trent and I know it’s a misunderstanding. When we saw the address… Trent was the general contractor on loft conversions a block away from where it happened. We couldn’t believe it. It’s as though it happened in our own back yard. We’re sure it’ll get straightened out.”

“I’m trying to straighten it out. But I need your help.”

Meredith’s eyes widened as though Nadia had asked for a limb. “Of course.” She swallowed hard. “Anything we can do. Anything.”

“The night of the murder, Bobby told me he was coming here.”

“And I told you on the phone he didn’t come here.”

“But was he supposed to come here?”

“No. I asked Derek and he said they hadn’t planned anything.”

“Would you mind if I spoke with Derek?”

Meredith shifted in her seat. “Forgive me for saying this, Nadia. But if Derek already said they didn’t plan anything, how else could he possibly help?”

“I’m hoping Derek might have some insight into Bobby’s state of mind, if not his whereabouts that night.”

“Why would Derek know anything about his whereabouts?”

“He’s Bobby’s friend. He might know something and be completely unaware of it.”

“Nadia, Trent and I love Bobby to death. You know we do. And we love you, too. But we don’t want Derek distracted from his schoolwork.”

“It’ll only take a couple of minutes. I promise.”

Meredith grasped for words.

“We can talk right here,” Nadia said. “You’d be in the room with us.”

“Obviously I’d be in the room with you. I’m not sure you understand…”

“Of course I understand. Bobby’s been arrested for murder. You want to protect your son. You want to distance him. You don’t want him involved. You don’t want him talking about it or even thinking about it if you can help it.”