Stranglehold. Part 20

"Modine can't try to influence Burke directly, if that's what you mean. He's an officer of the court. It's illegal. Not to mention unethical. But he can plant the seed."

"What seed?"

Wood laughed again. He knew how he looked.

Anxious as a kid on a blind date.

"That I can be trusted, Arthur. That he's known me for nearly as long as he's known Burke. And if I say that there's more to this than meets the eye, that no way are you guilty on this and that your wife's just an angry hysteric who's out to get you, then that's very probably going to be the case."

He sipped his martini. "That seed," he said. "That's the one he can plant out there on the golf course tomorrow. It will go a long way, believe me. Then all we have to do is follow up. h.e.l.l, Burke's dealt with me before any number of times and doesn't know her man from Adam. He's already halfway there."

Arthur understood. There was a network to everything. And a good ol' boy behind half the deals in the state of New Hamps.h.i.+re.

He liked it. He liked it very much. For the first time in a week he thought he might just whip this thing.

It would be a good idea, he thought, to join Wood in a nightcap. To stand there at his own bar in front of patrons and G.o.d and everybody.

He felt better than he had all day.

"Jake, Glenlivet please," he said.

Eighteen.

Visitation, Part Two

Andrea Stone hadn't graduated first in her cla.s.s at Emory Law in Atlanta in order to come north and babysit. Ordinarily she'd have pa.s.sed this particular ch.o.r.e on to some a.s.sistant. In this case, though, she thought she'd like to make an exception.

It was an opportunity to see who Arthur Danse really was and how his son responded to him.

And it turned out that Robert was really no trouble. Since his mother dropped him off at her office twenty minutes ago, they'd talked for a while and then he'd sat playing quietly with his Game Boy while she tried to clear her desk of some long overdue paperwork. She glanced at the clock on the wall overhead.

Arthur was now fifteen minutes late.

Form of protest? she wondered.

He'd requested of course that the meeting take place either at his house or at his parents'. Preferably at his. As far as Andrea was concerned both were out of the question. She didn't even bother to put the idea to Lydia Danse or her attorney, both of whom certainly would have rejected it in any case. Her own concern was both moral and practical.

The way she figured it Arthur Danse was a user and a pervert. Robert might not be willing to say so but she'd bet her job on it. So why should she give him even the slightest consideration?

Why put yourself out for a man like that?

And how in G.o.d's name did he have the temerity to think he deserved it?

No. Edward Wood could complain to her all he wanted.

Unless the judge said otherwise any visits between Robert and Arthur were going to be here at her office. Or they were going to happen nowhere at all.

She was signing a release form for some evidentiary property on a case that was already two months settled now when her a.s.sistant announced his arrival. She let him wait a minute or two just on principle. Robert didn't seem to mind. Then she let him in.

"I want you to know," he said, "that I think this stinks." Speaking first to her and not to Robert.

"Noted," she said.

"How's it going, Robby?"

"Fine."

He barely glanced up from his Game Boy.

"How's school?"

"It's okay."

"Just okay?"

"I got another perfect in spelling."

"Good. That's good."

He sat down next to him on the couch but not particularly close and crossed his legs and folded his hands.

"Kind of rough, isn't it?"

"Huh?"

"We don't get to see very much of one another, do we? Not like the old days."

"I guess."

Robert frowned and sighed, concentrating. Clearly he wasn't doing real well this time on his Super Mario Brothers. "Robert, put down the Nintendo for a minute, okay?" He turned it off but held onto it. With both hands. He's almost clutching it, she thought.

I think he's afraid of him.

"You know I care a lot about you, right?" Arthur said. He nodded.

"And you know that I want to do what's best for you too."

Robert nodded again, more slowly this time. Like he didn't exactly know where his father was going on this. Arthur looked at him for a moment as though he was wondering about something too and then went on.

"So you realize that's why your mom and I are having this ... this kind of fight ... we're doing this because ... oh, for G.o.d's sake!" He turned to Andrea and threw up his arms.

Low flash point, she thought. Slick but quick to burn.

"Look," he said. "This is impossible! How can I have a personal conversation with my son with you sitting here? Could you have one with your kid if I were sitting in the room? You're a stranger, for G.o.d's sake."

"I don't have any children, Mr. Danse. And I'm not exactly a stranger to Robert."

"You know what I'm talking about. In theory. Listen, I haven't seen my son in weeks. Couldn't you just do the decent thing and leave us alone for a while? A few minutes?"

"I'm afraid not. Court order."

"For five minutes?"

"I'm sorry."

"Five f.u.c.king minutes?"

She saw Robert flinch at the word. Visibly flinch. And she wondered, not for the first time, if Danse had ever hit the boy. Or had threatened him. It would explain why he wasn't talking. She'd asked Robert both those questions before and got nothing but mute denials.

"Mr. Danse, I want to explain something to you. It's going to be important for you to remember that until this case is closed I am Robert's legal guardian. My function is to carry out the orders of the court and to make certain that Robert's rights are respected by everybody concerned. You do not have the right to see Robert alone. The court took away that right. Is that completely clear? I'm sorry. But that's the law."

"This is bulls.h.i.+t."

He stood up and reached for Robert's hand.

"Come on," he said, "we're leaving. We're out of here. I'm your father and I say we're gone."

Robert looked first at her and then at him. He didn't seem to know what to do.

But what he didn't do was take his father's hand.

Why's he being so insistent about this? she wondered. Exactly what did he want to say to the boy?

"Mr. Danse."

"I am his father!"

"Mr. Danse, may I speak with you in private for a moment?"

"No you may d.a.m.n well not speak with me in private for a moment! Not if I can't speak with my own son you can't!"

"In that case listen to me-you take one step out of this office in Robert's company and I'll have you thrown in jail so fast it'll make your head spin. I'm sorry to have to say this in front of Robert but you leave me no choice and I urge you not to test me on this. I urge you very, very strongly."

She watched the man deflate. Watching him deflate did not displease her one d.a.m.n bit.

"I'll see you, Robert," he said quietly. "I'm sorry we couldn't ..."

"Sure, Dad. It's okay."

He turned on his Game Boy again.

Danse glanced at her once and then opened the door and left the room. She followed, closing the door behind her. "Mr. Danse."

She spoke quietly so that Robert wouldn't hear. The walls were thin.

He turned.

"Mr. Danse, if I ever hear you use the word 'f.u.c.k' again in Robert's presence I will personally bring an action against you for the verbal abuse of a child-a second, independent action-before the Division of Children and Youth Services. And that action will land you in district court no matter how this custody case turns out. Are we very clear on that?"

He smiled. "He can't hear us now, though, can he?" he said. Now he was speaking softly too.

"No."

"Then go screw yourself, Miss Stone. You f.u.c.king tight-a.s.sed b.i.t.c.h."

She felt she had the measure of the man.

Lydia was deep asleep when the phone rang. She looked at the clock.

4:45.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"You'll never prove it," he said.

She was instantly awake.

"He won't tell," he said. "So how are you going to prove it if he won't tell, huh? You can't."

"How do you know he won't tell, Arthur?"

"Because I know my son. I know my kid. He's loyal to me."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"We'll see."

"You'll never prove a G.o.dd.a.m.n thing you stupid c.u.n.t!"

"Gee. c.u.n.t, huh? Would you rather I was a little boy, Arthur?"

It felt good to say it to him. To taunt him.

"f.u.c.k you!" he yelled and slammed down the phone. She was shaking when she replaced the receiver, but in a way the call was far from unsatisfying. She looked again at the clock. Nearly five in the morning, she thought.