Stranglehold. Part 28

"h.e.l.lo?"

"I didn't think it went all that well for you today, Lyd. Did you?"

"Arthur, I don't need this. What do I have to do, change my phone number?"

"Don't bother. I won't be doing this often. I was just curious. So. What do you think?"

"It doesn't matter what I think."

"Sure it does. It matters to me."

"I can't imagine why."

"Because if you thought it was going badly for you, you might do something stupid. That's why."

"Stupid like what, Arthur?"

"Like packing Robert up and trying to make a run for it. That wouldn't be smart."

"You think?"

"Yes, and you know why? Because you have to work, Liddy. You're a nurse-and nurses need to be registered. So no matter where you went, no matter what state or how far away, I'd find you. You realize that? And I could probably get you thrown in jail when I did. I mean, what a great guarantee of your basic stability, you know?"

"I'm happy you're happy, Arthur. Now do you mind if I go back to bed?"

"No problem. What're you wearing, Lyd?"

"f.u.c.k you, Arthur. Sheet metal."

She hung up.

The call made her angry. And not just his last comment.

Am I really that easy to read? she wondered.

Because she'd considered running.

And rejected it for exactly the reason Arthur cited. It boiled down to money. If she had money of her own she might have run already.

But he was right. She had to work. And nursing was the only way she knew of keeping them both somewhere above the poverty line. There wasn't much choice but to stick it out in the courts and pray it would all come out for the best.

Could they really be so insane as to give him what he wanted? Unlimited, unsupervised visitation?

And if they did-what was she going to do?

It took two more gla.s.ses of wine to put her to sleep Restless sleep. Full of unremembered dreams.

The kind that provide no clues and answer no questions.

Twenty-three.

The Hearing: Third Day

They led with a pair of character witnesses, local businessmen who did nothing more than establish that Arthur was reliable in financial matters and business practices. Neither Stone nor Sansom even bothered to question them.

Next was Arthur's mother.

She hadn't seen much of Ruth since the divorce except around Christmas time and she certainly hadn't missed her. Even decked out in her Sunday best-again, she suspected, selected by Arthur-there was something basically unattractive about the woman and always had been, some meanness of spirit that worked its way through her flesh like a subtle but distinct aroma.

She's give her this much, though-she was loyal.

"My boy wouldn't hurt a soul," she said. "If you ask me it's nonsense. And he sure wouldn't hurt somebody that way, let me tell you. My Arthur's had more nice girlfriends over the years than you could count on your hands and toes. Fact is I used to confuse the names of 'em."

"Thank you, Mrs. Danse," Wood said. "Nothing further."

"Mr. Sansom?"

"Nothing for this witness, Your Honor."

He looked better today, she thought. Tired. But that haunted look was gone.

"I have a few questions for Mrs. Danse, Your Honor," said Andrea Stone, "purely of a formal nature."

"Proceed, Ms. Stone."

"Mrs. Danse," she said, "when I visited you at home you indicated to me that, in the event that the court should find for neither Arthur nor Lydia Danse in this matter, you would be willing to offer Robert legal adoption. Is that still your position and your husband's position?"

"Absolutely."

"Your husband's too?"

"Absolutely."

"And would you be able to comply with the court's instructions regarding visitation?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, suppose the court said Lydia Danse was allowed to visit Robert twice a week, take him on vacations, have him for a given number of weekends every month, that sort of thing. Would you be all right with that?"

"Sure I would. She's his mother. Whatever I might think about her and what she's doing to my boy personally have no bearing on it."

"And then suppose the court limited Arthur's visitations. Suppose the judge ruled that Arthur could only see Robert under structured, supervised conditions. Or even permitted no visitation at all."

She hesitated only a moment. But Lydia wondered if she was the only one in the room who was able to recognize the sly secret look that pa.s.sed over her face and then was gone. She wondered if you had to have seen it before-as she had many times-to notice it.

"Well, I have to be honest," she said. "I wouldn't like it. I wouldn't think it was fair to Arthur. But if that's what you folks decided then I'd be duty-bound to honor the law, and that's what I'd do."

"Thank you, Mrs. Danse. Nothing further."

"We call Arthur Danse, Your Honor."

She studied him as he turned to face them on the witness stand. If I were the judge, she thought, would I be inclined to believe this man?

I might. Dammit, he looks good.

His face contrived to show nothing other than to register the seriousness of the moment-kind of intelligent concern. No guilt, no shame. No nervousness. The face of a man who wished nothing more than to clear this up once and for all and leave it behind him. She decided he'd missed his calling. The camera would have loved Arthur. He met her eyes for a moment and didn't seem to need to look away.

Wood made quick work of the preliminaries. So that the lies and half-lies weren't long in coming.

"Mr. Danse," he said, "can you describe for us in your own words the events of January eleventh of this year?"

"Yes." He leaned forward intently. "I picked up my son at his mother's house at around noon. We drove to the McDonald's out on 93 for lunch. Robert likes the Chicken McNuggets there, though I try to keep our visits down to one or two a month. We ate in the car. After that we drove to Ellsworth, near where my parents live. We went hunting. I'd just bought a brand-new shotgun-a Remington over-and-under-and I wanted to give it a try."

"Robert didn't have a gun, though, did he?"

"No. He's got a couple of years yet before I'd consider letting him handle a weapon."

The responsible family man. Sure.

"How long were you out there hunting?"

"I'd say about two and a half hours. I think it was about three-thirty by the time we got back to the car. Something like that. I could see Robert was getting pretty tired and I'd managed to bag a rabbit, so a couple of hours out there was plenty."

"And then what did you do?"

"I had some business to take care of so we drove back to my house and Robert watched a movie on HBO and then played one of the Sega Genesis games I keep for him over there, while I got to the paperwork. And I guess we both lost track of time. Because the next thing I knew it was quarter after six and I thought, oh my G.o.d, I was supposed to have had him home fifteen minutes ago already. She's going to be furious."

"She?"

"Robert's mother."

"Why didn't you call? To say you were going to be late?"

"I tried. The line was busy. So I just hustled him out into the car and got him over there as fast as I could."

"Mr. Danse, did you notice if Robert appeared to be in any discomfort at all while you were driving him back to his mother's house?"

"Yes, I did. He seemed ... antsy. Like he was having a hard time just sitting there in the car seat. And I remember that once we hit a pothole that was pretty deep and my head practically hit the roof even though I had my seat belt on. So I looked at Robert to make sure he was okay. He had this odd kind of look on his face. Like he was hurting. Though he also had his seat belt on too."

"And did you ask him what was wrong?"

''Yes.''

"What did he say?"

"He said nothing was wrong. That he was just worried that his mom was going to be mad at him and punish him for us being so late. I rea.s.sured him. I told him it was my fault and I'd tell her so. So he didn't have to worry."

"Mr. Danse, when you were doing your paperwork, were you sitting in the same room as Robert?"

"No. I was in the study. Robert was in the living room."

"For about how long, approximately?"

"About two hours, maybe a little longer."

"And were you aware of him getting up and going into the bathroom at any time?"

"Yes. To get to the bathroom from the living room in my house you have to walk right past the study. He came in after the movie was done. I asked him how it was. He said it was pretty good. Something about killer clowns from outer s.p.a.ce. We laughed at that. Then he went on in the direction of the bathroom and I went back to work."

"Were you aware of him coming out of the bathroom again?"

"Not really, no. I was pretty absorbed in what I was doing."

"Mr. Danse, did you s.e.xually abuse your son that day?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"And have you ever abused your son, Mr. Danse? s.e.xually or otherwise?"

"G.o.d, no. I'm amazed that I'm even being asked a question like that. Robert is ..."

His brow furrowed. His chin fell to his chest and he slowly shook his head. When he looked up again his eyes were full of tears.

"Robert is the single most important thing in my life," he said. "I would never hurt him. Never."

You b.a.s.t.a.r.d, she thought.

"Do you have any idea then, Mr. Danse, why Lydia Danse should be bringing this charge against you now?"

"Objection," said Sansom. "Calls for speculation."

"I'm going to allow it, Mr. Sansom. I think the witness's opinion on the matter is relevant."

"The only way I can think to explain it," Arthur said, "is that she's never forgiven me that the marriage didn't work. To say I'm surprised is the understatement of the year. I'd thought our divorce was amicable. Now I guess it wasn't. Not from her point of view, anyway."

He looked at her directly, unflinchingly.