Deadly Treatment (7 page)

‘
A
re you serious?’ Malone asked incredulously.

‘Take a look for yourself,’ Daniel replied, handing the Fedexed letter and photo to him.

Malone took a good look at the photo before passing it to Taylor, and then he started to read the letter.

‘Well, weren’t you a cute kid,’ Taylor joked.

‘So, how do you feel?’ Malone asked once he’d finished reading.

‘To be honest, I don’t know what to feel. Part of me feels cheated that Sister Elizabeth kept this from me; but another part of me is excited that I’ve got a lead on my mother — plus, I guess if I can find her, then possibly, I can find my father.’

Malone winced slightly at Daniel’s excitement.

Taylor picked up on Malone’s discomfort; she knew he had basically taken on the role of Daniel’s father figure.

‘One step at a time though, Daniel,’ she said as she touched his hand.

During the preceding year, the three of them had been through a lot together. Besides the obvious bond that Malone and Daniel had discovered and nurtured, Taylor too had been touched by the young man’s maturity and loyalty.

‘I wonder what she means by
she is a bad person
?’ Taylor asked, careful not to put a dampener on Daniel’s excitement.

‘Everyone would be classed as bad if held up against Sister Elizabeth; that woman was a
saint
,’ Daniel replied flippantly.

‘But she obviously had her reasons to keep this information from you,’ Malone added.

‘Like she said in the letter, she was just selfish. Anyway, what really matters now is that I have a real mother. I’m not an orphan after all. Maybe now I can find out who I really am. Why aren’t you happy for me?’ Daniel’s voice was beginning to rise.

‘Calm down, Daniel, we just want to make sure you don’t get hurt,’ Taylor said.

‘You, you two are just like her; you’re selfish. You don’t want me to be happy. You want me all to yourself. All those years of wondering where I came from, the stories I imagined of who my mom and dad were, whether they were alive or dead. All the time I was being controlled by a woman who claimed to be my friend. Well I’m not gonna let it happen to me again. I am gonna find her, and I am gonna find out what really happened!’ He stormed out of the kitchen like a petulant child, slamming the door to his room behind him.

‘Daniel!’ Malone called as he went.

‘Leave him be for the moment. Let him cool down,’ Taylor said as she stopped Malone from going after him.

They moved to the living room and sat down together on the sofa.

‘He’s got every right to find out who his mother is,’ she began.

‘I know that, I just don’t want him to get hurt. What if she’s dead already, or if the Sister is right, she could be in jail for some heinous act? The kid is doing fine; he doesn’t need to have any more setbacks in his life.’

Taylor smiled lovingly at Malone.

‘That’s just it honey, he’s not a kid anymore, he’s a man. And as a man you can’t protect him, you can only offer help and guidance, and be there should he fall.’

‘But . . .’

‘There are no buts. Can you imagine not knowing your roots, your heritage, where you came from, why you were abandoned? Offer him your help. Malone; understand that he needs you more now than ever before.’

Malone took a breath and looked deep into Taylor’s blue eyes. ‘Beautiful
and
smart, what did I do to deserve you?’

The next morning, with Daniel not responding to his knock at the door, Malone was starting to get annoyed.

‘He’s got to venture out at some point doesn’t he?’

‘Like I said last night, let him be for the moment,’ Taylor said as she handed him a coffee.

‘It’s just…’

Taylor changed the subject. ‘Should we go and see Erin and Joshua’s place today?’

‘Sure, why not?’ Malone huffed, shrugging his shoulders but making no attempt to move.

‘I guess
I’ll
give her a call to arrange it then, shall I?’ Taylor said glibly.

Malone took his coffee and went to the couch, shooing Charlie the cat off, but then thought better of it and opted for his trusty La-Z-Boy. His frustration with Daniel had turned his mood to melancholy. He was never that big on conflict; after all, for the majority of his life he’d been a self-confessed, God fearing, bible basher. His wife, or should he say his late wife, Barbara, hadn’t been big on conflict either. He often tried to think of times they had argued, but for some reason he couldn’t. Call it rose-colored spectacles or respect for the dead, but in all their years of marriage, he could only remember the good times. The times before Robert Richins had entered their lives. The whole period from his daughter’s abduction to his wife’s murder was a blur. Yes, they argued after their daughter was taken from them, and yes, they had argued ferociously the morning of Barbara’s murder, but of course none of that counted.

Now, Taylor, she was a different matter, never one to shy away from an argument, always one to have an opinion, but tactful with it. As Malone looked over at her chatting away on the phone, he couldn’t help but feel blessed that he had been given another opportunity to love. Yes they had met under unusual circumstances — she’d been the PA to the most immoral man he’d ever met — but the only other time he felt so strongly about a woman was when he’d met Barbara; so he knew it was right.

Then, there was Daniel; last night was their first real fight for a long time; sure, they’d had their minor set-to’s, but for two grown men who lived under the same roof, their head-to-heads were few and far between. Taylor was right; Daniel needed some time and some space, and most of all some support.

With his mood changed, Malone got off the chair, went to Daniel’s room again, and knocked softly on the door.

‘Daniel, hi, can I please come in?’

A grunt came from the other side of the door and Malone took it as a yes. He found Daniel in his usual pose — hunched over the keyboard and staring at the computer screen; although this time, rather than there being a creative and colorful design staring back, screeds of black letters, names, and basic contact details filled the monitor; the California DMV logo was nestled inconspicuously in the bottom right corner.

‘You have a gift,’ Malone said as he looked at the screen.

‘It’s not the hardest site to crack,’ Daniel replied curtly.

Malone took a breath as he thought of the best way to continue.

‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. I should never have reacted that way. It’s just that I, I mean we...’ He motioned toward the door and indirectly, Taylor. ‘…We want to… we care about you, that’s all.’

‘You said that already,’ Daniel snapped, still not looking at Malone.

‘Please, let me finish. I want to tell you that I’m here for you, and I’ll give you any support you need.’

Daniel turned to Malone.

‘Just say the word and I’ll call Logan, I’m sure he’ll be able to give you a hand — at worst, it’ll save you time hacking into websites.’

Daniel hesitated for a second, and then relaxed.

‘I’m sorry too. I was so excited about the prospect of having a real family that…’ He stopped and looked at Malone.

‘I meant a blood-related family.’

‘It’s okay; I know what you mean.’

‘That’s it really; I just want to know where I came from.’

Malone patted Daniel on the shoulder.

‘Like I said; we’re here for you.’

‘Thanks, Malone,’ Daniel smiled, ‘and it’d be great if you’d call Logan for me.’

A
fter a quick call to Logan, Malone and Taylor drove out to the Costello’s house in Van Ness to get a feel for how they lived. It was quite a trek from Mission in east LA to Van Ness in the south west. Malone stuck to the main routes: San Bernardino, and Santa Monica exiting at South Western Ave. He circled the neighborhood a little before arriving in the Costello’s street.

‘I can see why the cops thought he’d run away,’ Taylor said as she looked at the rows of rundown houses and graffiti-covered fences. Garbage, wrecks of cars, and rusted whiteware littered the lawns, and with the addition of the usual assortment of dodgy looking youths hanging around on curb sides, it made for an area that could conservatively be described as
rough.

Keeping their wits about them, both Taylor and Malone got out of the car and walked up to the Costello house. Malone rapped on the door and Taylor hopped nervously from foot to foot as she waited for the door to be answered. As Erin opened the door and invited them in, Malone took a look back at his blue Ford, half expecting it to be the last time he’d ever see it intact.

As they entered the house, Malone introduced Taylor to Erin.

‘Can I fix you a drink?’ she asked.

‘A coffee would be great,’ Malone replied, and Taylor nodded.

‘Sure. How do you take it?’

‘White with one for Taylor and straight black for me thanks — cowboy style,’ he joked.

Erin eyed him strangely before disappearing into the kitchen.

Taylor took a seat as Malone took a brief wander around the living room before sitting next to her on the couch.

The room was filled with an eclectic mix of what looked to be cheap pieces of furniture that made the place look more like a storage unit than a family home. Malone felt sure he wouldn’t have noticed such things, certainly not prior to Taylor moving into his house. But with her arrival, out had gone most of his — what she termed an archaic, mishmash of chattels, and in came her trendy/chic furnishings. Although he made a stand when she wanted to throw out his La-Z-Boy, telling her that if it went, he would go with it!

‘There you go,’ Erin said, handing them their steaming mugs of coffee with the Boston Celtics logo emblazoned on their sides. They both thanked her, and she took a seat opposite them.

‘Tell me more about young Joshua,’ Malone began.

‘What can I say? He’s just a normal young boy. Like I said before, he’s a little bit smaller than a lot of the boys of his age, but looking at his feet, I think he’s got a growth spurt ready to happen. Plus, he’s got the little lisp thing…’

‘You said that he’s tried to run away before.’

‘Aye, he’s tried it a few times. The first time was when he was around four or five. I’d told him off about something or other, or maybe he just didn’t get his own way about something — I can’t quite remember what — he yelled out that he was going to run away. So I said fine, go right ahead and off he stormed to his room. There was lots of crashing and banging and finally his bedroom door sprang open. Out he came, dragging one of my big suitcases behind him. It was quite a sight, I’ll tell you. The suitcase was bigger than he was…’ She broke off for a moment as she pictured the memory.

‘Anyway, I let him leave and trailed him as he made his way along the street. Fair play to him, he made it a couple of blocks before plonking himself down on a bench and giving up. Poor wee soul, he was so wound up that all he could do was sit there sobbing. I sat beside him, and after letting him calm down, I asked if he wanted to come home. ‘Yes please, mummy’ was all he said.’ A smile crossed her face.

‘Unpacking his case was a laugh, all he had managed to fit inside that great big case was three wee pairs of superhero undies.’

Malone smiled along with her.

‘Then, a year or so ago, we argued about him not getting good enough grades at school — he left for a few hours that time. I don’t know where he went, but he was back before dinner was served up.’

She got up from the sofa and moved to the sideboard, put down her coffee, and picked up a photo of her son. ‘The thing is, although he’s been in a bit of trouble recently, he really is a good, honest wee kid. I admit he’s got a bit of a temper on him — guess it must be the Irish genes — and he’s stubborn; when he says he’s gonna do something, he does, I’ll tell you.’

‘What do you mean?’ Malone asked.

‘The best example I can give is actually when he’s being naughty. When he’s bad, I send him to his room; he’s to stay there until he can behave. After a certain amount of time, he’ll call out and ask if he can come back and join me. I’ll ask him if he’s going to be good, he’ll say ‘no’. So I tell him no. A while later, he’ll ask again if he can come out; again, I will ask him if he will behave and again he’ll say ‘no’. This will go on for several times until eventually he
will
say that ‘yes, he will be good.’ Then sure enough, he’s a proper angel — well, at least for a while.’ She took a moment.

‘So, as you see — no, he’s not perfect, and yes, he is a bit boisterous, but and I can’t emphasize this enough, he is basically an honest boy and definitely not a runaway.’

Malone gently nodded as she finished her story, letting her words hang there for a while.

‘You said he’s been in trouble a bit recently; what do you mean by that?’ Taylor asked.

‘Aye, it’s those kids at school. They pick on him cause he’s wee, although he’s tough as an ox and can hold his own. They start it and he finishes it, but by that time, the teachers have arrived and he gets the trouble. Both he and I have tried explaining it to them, but all they see is him full of temper beating up the other kids.’

Erin looked slightly proud of her son as she spoke of his fighting prowess.

‘What about with the cops, any trouble with them?’

‘Not really. He’s a bit of a loner and doesn’t hang around with the kids on the corners or anything like that, they don’t get on. I’m sure those kids blame him for things he hasn’t done. Cops have been around here accusing him of stealing, tagging, and property vandalism — but it isn’t him, it’s all lies.’

Unsure as to whether Joshua was truly innocent or innocent only in his mother’s eyes, Malone changed the direction of the conversation

‘Do you mind if we have a look at his room?’ he asked.

‘Of course, follow me,’ Erin said, putting down the photo of Joshua she was holding, and picking up her drink again.

Taylor and Malone followed Erin down the narrow corridor to Joshua’s room. To their surprise, the room was a mess. The bed was unmade and clothes littered the floor. In Malone’s albeit limited experience, parents of missing children invariably went to great lengths to meticulously clean and tidy their child’s room.

The reasons for this were simple: it was a symbol of a brand new start, a sort of clean sheet for the child’s return, whatever the reason for his or her disappearance. It was also a way for the parents to be close to their child, and have something of theirs to physically touch.

The walls were covered with posters of bands that neither Taylor nor Malone had ever heard of, and as they carefully made their way into the room, avoiding the obstacles of toys and garments that concealed the carpet below, both of them wondered if they’d get out alive.

‘Do you mind if I look in here?’ Malone asked Erin as he pointed to the chest of drawers.

‘No, go ahead.’

He pulled open the top drawer in search of a diary or journal of some sort and was surprised to see it virtually empty, which with the amount of clothing on the floor, he shouldn’t have been. General bric-a-brac greeted his view, elastic bands, green plastic soldiers, matches, football cards, pieces of nondescript plastic and metal — nothing really out of the ordinary, certainly no diary.

Taylor tiptoed over to the cupboard and pulled open the door. Jackets, trousers, and tops hung messily on their hangers, and toys and games were piled uneasily high beneath them. She closed the door quickly in case they fell.

Together in the middle of the room, they looked around at the shelves and surface tops. Ferraris, Porsches, red emergency service vehicles, and big rigs covered the spaces not occupied by books, lamps, and CD covers. Malone moved to the bed and looked underneath; he was greeted with another mishmash of mess.

As they made their way safely out of the room, Malone turned to Erin, ‘We’ve had a word with Detective Rodriguez; so far he hasn’t got much to add, but he has ensured me that they’re doing all they can.’

Erin looked deflated.

Malone offered a few words of advice before both he and Taylor left, vowing they’d do all they could to help find Joshua. Thankfully, the blue Ford was still in one piece where they’d left it.