Jeff Lindsay - Double Dexter

Of course they are, Blanton said. She looked at Cody. You gonna be okay, buddy?

Fine, he said softly, and then he glanced at me and added, Really scared.

That s totally normal, Blanton said, and Cody looked very pleased. How about you, sweetheart? she continued, turning back to Astor. You doing all right?

Astor made a visible effort not to snarl at being called sweetheart and instead managed to say, Yes, I m fine, thank you, just scared.

Uh-huh, Blanton said. She looked back and forth between the two of them, apparently searching for some clue that they might be slipping into shock.

My phone rang it was Rita. Hello, dear, I said, turning half away from Blanton and the children.

Dexter, I just went past the aquarium? It doesn t open until almost And so, where are you? Because it s a couple of hours.

Well, I said. We got a little sidetracked. There s been a little incident here at the hotel

Oh, my God, I knew it, she said.

Nothing at all to worry about, I said, raising my voice over hers. We re all fine; it s just something that happened and we were witnesses, so we have to make a statement, that s all.

But they re just children, Rita said.

It isn t even legal, and they have to Are they all right?

They re both fine; they re talking to a very nice policewoman, I said, and thinking it was best to cut things short, I said, Rita, please, you go right ahead with the auction. We ll be fine.

I can t possibly Because, I mean, the police are there?

You have to do the auction; it s what we came for, I said. Get us the place on a Hundred and Forty-second Street.

It s terrace, she said. A Hundred and Forty-second Terrace.

Even better, I said. And don t worry; we ll be there in plenty of time.

Well, but, she said, I just think I should be there

You need to get ready for the auction, I said.

And don t worry about us. We ll finish up here and then go see the sharks. This is just a minor inconvenience.

Mr. Morgan? Blanton said behind me. There s somebody here who wants to talk to you.

Get that house, I said to Rita. I have to go now. And I turned to face Blanton, and saw that my minor inconvenience had just grown a few sizes.

Gliding into the room, teeth first, was Sergeant Doakes.

I have been in many police interrogation rooms, and truthfully, the one in the Key West police station was fairly standard. But it did look a little different this time, since I was on the wrong side of the table. They hadn t handcuffed me, which I thought was very nice of them, but they also didn t seem to want me to go anywhere. So I sat there at the table while first Blanton and then several other detectives came and went, snarling the same questions, and then disappearing again. And each time the door swung open, I could see Sergeant Doakes standing in the hall outside the room. He was not smiling now, although I m sure he was very happy, since I was right where he wanted me, and I knew he d think it was worth losing Hood to put me here.

I tried very hard to be patient and answer the four standard questions the Key West cops kept asking, no matter how many times they asked, and I tried just as hard to remember that this one time I really was completely innocent and I had nothing to worry about. Sooner or later they would have to let me go, no matter how many ways Doakes managed to invoke professional cooperation.

But they seemed in no hurry, and after an hour or so in which they didn t even offer me coffee, I thought perhaps I should encourage them. So when the fourth detective came in and sat down opposite me, and informed me for the third time that this was a very serious matter, I stood up and said, Yes, it is. You are holding me here for no reason, without filing a charge, when I have done absolutely nothing wrong.

Sit down, Dexter, the detective said. He was probably about fifty and looked like he d been beaten up a few times, and I felt very strongly that one more time would be a good idea, because he said my name like he thought it was funny, and although I am normally very patient with stupidity after all, there s so much of it this was the last straw.

So I put my knuckles on the table and leaned toward him, and I let fly with all the righteous indignation that I actually felt. No, I said. I will not sit down. And I will not answer the same questions over and over anymore. If you aren t going to file a charge and aren t going to let me go, I want an attorney.

Look, the guy said, with world-weary chumminess.

We know you re with the Miami-Dade department. A little professional cooperation wouldn t hurt you, would it?

It would not hurt me at all, I said. And unless you release me immediately, I plan to cooperate as much as possible with your Internal Affairs department.

The detective drummed his fingers on the table for a few seconds and looked like he thought he might tough it out. But instead he slapped the table softly, stood up, and walked out without another word.

It was only another five minutes before Blanton came back in. She didn t look happy, but maybe she didn t know how. She was holding a manila folder in one hand and smacking it against the other one, and she looked at me like she wanted to blame me for the federal budget deficit. But she didn t say anything; she just looked, smacked the folder a few times, and then shook her head.

You can go, she said.

I waited to see if there was anything else. There wasn t, so I walked through the door and into the hall. Naturally enough, Sergeant Doakes was standing there waiting for me. Better luck next time, I told him.

He didn t say anything, and he didn t even show me his teeth. He just stared at me with that hungry-jackal look of his that I knew so well, and since I have never been the sort who enjoys uncomfortable silence, I turned away from him and stuck my head back into the interrogation room that had been my home for the last ninety minutes.

Blanton, I said, rather proud of myself for remembering her name. Where are my children?

She put the folder down, sighed, and came over to the doorway.

They ve gone to be with their mother, she said.

Oh, all right, I said. Did they get to ride over in a patrol car?

No, we could get in trouble for that, she said.

We got budget problems, you know.

Well, you didn t just stick them in a taxicab all alone, did you? I said, and I admit I was getting irritated with her, and the entire Key West Police Department.

No, of course not, she said, with a little more spirit than she d shown so far. They left with an authorized adult.

I could think of only one or two people who might be considered authorized, and for a moment I felt a brief glimmer of hope; perhaps Deborah had arrived and things were looking up at last. Oh, good, I said. Was it their aunt, Sergeant Deborah Morgan?

Blanton blinked at me and shook her head. No, she said. But it s okay; your son knew him. It was his Cub Scout leader.

I had spent far too much time lately bemoaning the decline of my once-stunning mental powers, and so it was a great relief to realize that the gray cells were coming back online, because I did not think, even for a second, that Cub Scout leader meant Frank, the big-bellied, ghost story telling real leader of the pack. I knew instantly who had taken Cody and Astor.

It was Crowley.

He had come right into the station, a building filled with policemen who were looking for him, even though they didn t know it, and he had bluffed his way into possession of my children and walked out with them, and while a very small part of me admired the absolute brazen nerve of it, the rest of me was in no mood to hand out compliments.

He had taken my kids. Cody and Astor were mine, and he had snatched them from under my nose. It was a special, personal affront, and it filled me with a rage larger and brighter and more blinding than anything I had ever felt before. A red mist came down and covered over everything I saw, starting with Detective Blanton. She was goggling at me like some kind of awful, stupid, droopy fish, just gawking and mocking me for getting caught and for losing the children and it was all her fault. All of it she had listened to Doakes and brought me here and taken my kids away, only to give them to the one person on earth I didn t want anywhere near them and she was standing right there in front of me making stupid faces and I wanted very badly to grab her around her saggy little neck and shake her until the crepe-paper wrinkles on her neck rattled and then squeeze until her eyes popped and her tongue flopped out and her face turned purple and all the small and delicate bones in her throat crunched and splintered in my hands