Jonathan Kellerman - Gone

Brad said, “Billy, Reyn had some problems. Remember I told you about them- ”

“Driving too fast. So what, you do that, Brad.”

“Billy…” Brad smiled and shrugged.

Billy cocked his head at the Cadillac. “Not in the ’59, the ’59’s too fucking slow- that’s what you always say, too fucking slow to move its big old fucking ass. You drive fast in the Sting Ray and the Porsche and the Austin- ”

“Fine,” Brad snapped. He smiled again. “The detective gets it, Bill.”

“You say the Ray’s as fast as that girl in your class…what was her name- er, er, er, Jocelyn…the Sting Ray’s as fast as Jocelyn…Jocelyn…Olderson…Oldenson…and just as expensive. You always say that, the Sting- ”

“That’s a joke, Bill.”

“ I’m not laughing,” said Billy. To me: “Reyn drove too fast a long time ago and got in trouble. Does that mean he has to get his ass killed?”

Brad said, “No one’s saying that, Billy.”

“I’m asking him, Brad.”

“It doesn’t mean that,” I said.

“It fucking pisses me off. ” Billy broke free again, headed for the driveway. Climbing over the Caddy’s passenger door with some effort, he sank down, arms folded, and stared straight ahead.

Brad said, “Climbing in like that, he knows that’s against the- he must really be upset, though for the life of me I can’t tell you why.”

“He considers Peaty his friend.”

He lowered his voice. “Wishful thinking.”

“What do you mean?”

“My brother has no peer group. When I first hired Peaty I noticed him staring at Billy like Billy was some kind of freak. I told him to stop doing that and he did and after that he was friendly to Billy. I figured he was kissing up to me. Anyway, that’s probably what Billy’s responding to. Anyone who treats him like half a man is his buddy. After you guys dropped in at the office, he told me you were his buddies.”

Over in the Cadillac, Billy started rocking.

I said, “He’s pretty upset for having no relationship at all with Peaty.”

“My brother has trouble with change.”

“Learning someone you know has been murdered is serious change.”

“Yes, of course, I’m not minimizing it. All I’m saying is it’s harder for Billy to process that kind of thing.” He shook his head. “Shot to death over a stupid argument? Now that Billy’s not listening, can you tell me what really happened?”

“Same answer,” I said. “I wasn’t protecting Billy.”

“Oh. Okay, sorry. Look, I’d better go calm him down, so if- ”

“You’re sure Billy and Peaty didn’t associate.”

“I’m positive. Peaty was a janitor, for God’s sake.”

I said, “He’s been to Billy’s apartment.”

Brad’s lower lip dropped. “What are you talking about?”

I repeated what Annalise Holzer had told me.

“Lost articles?” he said. “That makes no sense at all.”

“Is Billy absentminded?”

“Yes, but- ”

“We were wondering if Peaty stopped by at your instruction.”

“My instruction? Ridiculous. As far as I knew, he didn’t drive, remember?” Brad wiped his brow. “Annalise said that?”

“Is she reliable?”

“God, I sure hope so.” He scratched his head. “If she said Peaty dropped by, I guess he did. But I’ve got to tell you, I’m astonished.”

“That Peaty and Billy would associate?”

“We don’t know they associated, just that Peaty dropped things off. Yes, Billy’s absentminded but usually he tells me when he’s left something and I tell him don’t worry, we’ll get it tomorrow. If Peaty did drop something off I’m sure that’s where it ended.”

He looked over at Billy. Rocking harder. “First Nora taking off and now this…”

I said, “They’re adults.”

“Chronologically.”

“Must be hard, being the protector.”

“Mostly it’s no big deal. Sometimes it’s a challenge.”

“This is one of those sometimes.”

“This is a real big sometime.”

“At some point,” I said, “we’d like to talk to Billy about Peaty.”

“Why? Peaty’s dead and you know who shot him.”

“Just to be thorough.”

“What does it have to do with Billy?”

“Probably nothing.”

“Is Peaty still a suspect for that girl’s murder?”

“Still?”

“All those questions you asked about him when you came to my house. It was pretty obvious what you were getting at. Do you really think Peaty could’ve done something like that?”

“It’s an open investigation,” I said.

“Meaning you won’t say. Look, I appreciate what you guys do but I can’t just let you browbeat Billy.”

“Browbeating’s not on the agenda, Mr. Dowd. Just a few questions.”

“Believe me, Detective, he has nothing to tell you.”

“You’re sure about that.”

“Of course I am. I can’t allow my brother to be drawn into anything sordid.”

“Because he’s chronologically an adult but…”

“Exactly.”

“He doesn’t seem retarded,” I said.

“I told you, he isn’t,” said Brad. “What he is no one’s ever been sure. Nowadays he’d probably be called some kind of autistic. Back when we were kids he was just ‘different.’ ”

“Must’ve been tough.”

“Whatever.” His eyes shifted sideways toward the Cadillac. Billy rested his head down on the dashboard. “There isn’t a mean bone in his body, Detective, but that didn’t stop other kids from tormenting him. I’m younger but I always felt like the older brother. That’s the way it’s remained and I’m going to have to ask you to respect our privacy.”

“Maybe it would be good for Billy to talk,” I said.

“Why?”

“He seemed pretty traumatized by the news. Sometimes getting it out helps.”

“Now you sound like a shrink,” said Brad. New edge in his voice.

“You’ve got experience with shrinks?”

“Back when we were kids Billy got taken to all kinds of quacks. Vitamin quacks, hypnosis quacks, exercise quacks, psychiatric quacks. No one did a damn thing for him. So let’s all just stick to what we know best. You chase bad guys and I’ll take care of my brother.”

I walked over to the Caddy, Brad’s protests at my back. Billy sat up, rigid. His eyes were shut and his hands clawed the placket of his shirt.

“Nice seeing you again, Billy.”

“It wasn’t nice. This is a bad news day.”

Brad got in the driver’s seat, started up the engine.

“Real bad news,” I said.

Billy nodded. “Real real real bad.”

Brad turned the ignition key. “I’m backing out, Detective.”

I waited until they’d been gone for five minutes, then walked up to Nora Dowd’s door and knocked. Got the silence I’d expected.

Empty mailbox. Brother Brad had collected Nora’s correspondence. Cleaning up everyone’s mess, as usual. He claimed Billy was harmless but his opinion was worthless.

I got back in the Seville and drove away, passing Albert Beamish’s house. The old man’s curtains were drawn but he opened his door.

Red shirt, green pants, drink in hand.

I stopped and lowered the car window. “How’s it going?”

Beamish started to say something, shook his head in disgust, went back inside.

Billy had been attached to Peaty. And Billy had a temper.

Was he too dull to realize the implication of a relationship with Reynold Peaty? Or was there no implication?

One thing was likely: The janitor’s visits had been more than dropping off lost articles.

As I drove Sixth Street toward its terminus at San Vicente, I considered Billy’s reaction. Shock, anger, desire for vengeance.