C Weaver - Silent River

“I do feel better.” Jake grinned. “I had a root canal, and now it’s all better, thank you for your concern. Yes,” his grin widened, “Lorene’s been verrry good to me. What’s got you in the dumps today?”

“I’m not. I’m looking through James’ file. I need to talk to him. He seems to be the one who might have some answers.”

“He’s Calvin’s best friend, or was. They were lovers, it seems.” Jake frowned. “You think they were homosexuals?”

“James is engaged.”

“Really? How’d you find that out?”

Robert held up the Oregonian . “Right here on the society page is the engagement announcement.”

Jake took the paper and looked at the picture of the happy couple, then at the date of the article. “Eight months before the family went missing. Hmmm? That cancels the homosexual theory. I’d guess the boys were having some fun experimenting and got caught.”

“My guess too.” Robert nodded and refolded the paper, putting it back into the envelope.

“Where’d you get that?” Jake leaned forward to stare at the addressed, stamped envelope.

“I got it in the mail.” He held it up. “No return address. Just this page. That’s not the only thing I received. I have parts of clues here and there. Someone’s doing some sleuthing for us. I’ve got no complaints.”

“If James isn’t a homosexual, then he has to be cringing over the name-calling,” Jake added.

“Unless his engagement puts that to rest. It isn’t an issue other than it’s why Calvin was sent away. I guess we’ll have to ask what his relationship to the family was. Maggie didn’t seem to think he was close to them after the incident.”

“Your ten o’clock is here,” Nate announced as he pushed the door wider.

“Thanks, Nate.” Robert stood. Picked up the envelope and file. “Guess we’d better go see what Mr. Corbett has to say. I wonder if his dad will send a lawyer with him.”

Jake looked out the door as Nate walked away. “Did he lose the taps, or am I getting so used to hearing them that I missed the sound of his approach?

“I didn’t hear them either. Maybe he sent the taps to be re-tapped?” Robert chuckled at his joke.

“Now I have to be careful what I say, in case he’s standing near the door. I could hear him coming before.”

The two walked to the interrogation room. James sat alone. Robert took a moment to observe the young man, who couldn’t see him.

James slouched in the metal chair. His feet, encased in penny loafers, stretched out under the metal table. He wore his hair cut in a butch style. His long fingers played with a pair of sunglasses.

The day had been overcast and a threat of rain. He at least wore a brown bomber jacket over his white, cotton, T-shirt. Robert recognized the look. James was a bad boy and dressed for his reputation. Robert looked at the file again, at twenty-nine, he should be over this attitude. Some boys never grow up. He turned the handle and pushed the door open. James made a slight jerk with his body, then forced it to relax. The response to stand when an adult or authority figure entered a room showed some good training. Robert mentally gave his parents a mark for trying.

“Mr. Corbett, this is Detective Jake Monroe, and I’m Robert Collins.” They both shook hands with the young man who remained seated. He straightened and folded his hands on the table.

“You know my name already. What can I do for the fine Portland police?” The tone sounded pleasant but verged on insolent.

“Thank you for coming down to the station. Do I have your permission to record this session?” After a moment of thought, James nodded. Robert pressed the record button, adjusted the short, microphone on the table to face James.

“Let’s get the preliminaries out of the way. Please state your full name, just for the record.” Robert laid his papers to one side and positioned his pad with his pen to write notes. “I don’t like to rely on the tape recorder for these interviews. Something could go wrong.”

James answered the fundamental identification questions, even leaning forward over the table to watch Robert write the answers. When Robert finished writing, he tapped the pen on the pad a few times.

“We have a few questions to ask you about the Stevens family. You heard they’re missing?”

“Yes. I read about it in the papers. So sad about them. I was a friend to Calvin Stevens before he left town.” Robert thought James seemed to have expected the question and had a ready answer. It tripped off his tongue as if he’d practiced it with just the right amount of empathy.

“That’s why we asked you to come down. How well did you know the family?” Robert began.

James relaxed. “I’ve been to their house many times with Calvin. I’ve been there for family barbeques and the girl’s birthdays.”

“How many times would you say you’ve been in the house?” Robert continued.

The answer flowed smoothly. “I don’t know. Quite a few times.”

“When was the last time you were there?” Jake interjected.

The answer didn’t roll off his tongue as the others did. Seconds passed. He frowned, staring at the table before answering. “The last time I was there?” He repeated the question. “I think it might have been when we were moving Calvin’s stuff to my apartment?”

“Was that when Mr. Stevens walked in on you and Calvin?” Robert kept his voice even with no judgment.

Another long pause before answering. “Yes.”

“If I might be a bit more indelicate about this. How did Mr. Stevens react to the two of you? Was he violent in any way?” Jake asked the questions.

James lifted his gaze to Robert. “He stood there for a moment. I almost laughed at the shocked look on his face. Then he slammed the door and yelled, ‘GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE!’ We gathered the last of Calvin’s things and went downstairs.”

“You left?”

“Not right away. The girls, Sara and Darla, came into the room, but he ordered them to leave and go upstairs. They pouted and gave Calvin and me a hug, then left.”

“He let them hug you and Calvin?”

James relaxed against the back of the chair and put his hands behind his head. A slight smile creased his lips. “No, they just hugged me. We’ve been friends forever, and they called me Uncle James.”

Robert looked at Jake for a moment. Jake grimaced in return.

“I see. So, you were quite close?” He ignored James’ nod. “How would you say Calvin and his dad got along?”

“I think Calvin was a disappointment to him.” He answered with a sigh. “I think he wanted Calvin to go into a trade. When Calvin didn’t, he came down on him hard.”

Robert opened a folder, looked at the page for a moment, then at James. “The two of you worked for Meier & Frank department store. Is that how you met?”

“So, you got my rap sheet?” The sardonic grin once again in place. “Yes, that’s where we met. Yes, we did steal some stuff. Calvin’s old man found out and beat him up until he told where he hid the stuff. The old man got it and returned it.” He shrugged

Robert looked again at the sheet. “There were a few things not returned.” His eyes met James gaze

James shook his head. “I didn’t have anything to do with whatever is missing. They blamed all their lost stuff on us. That’s not true. What was returned was what we took.”

“Why did you take it?” Jake’s turn.

Another shrug. “Just a lark. To see if we could get away with it. We did for a while, then when someone else must have taken stuff, we got blamed.”

“You got blamed. As if it wasn’t your fault?” Jake pointed.

“Hey, man, it wasn’t our stuff. We didn’t take all the stuff the manager said we did.”