“I was with Bill,” Thom said, running a hand through his hair. “We went off for a little drink and a private chat. He was … concerned about something.”
“And I was in the stateroom with my guests the entire time,” Lucille said. “But still, do you think it will come to that?”
“I hope not,” Dan said. “In fact, I rather doubt it. The only people who might have to worry about providing alibis will be anyone who was wandering alone on the upper decks at the time Daniella disappeared.”
Lucille wrapped her arms around herself and looked over at Thom. “I guess it’s time to call Larry,” she said softly.
“Our family attorney,” Thom said, to Dan’s inquisitive glance.
Dan wondered why they’d hesitated to call him before now. His thought was interrupted by Lucille.
“I was hoping to keep this out of the papers,” she said grimly. “But it’s already been all over the news. The ‘troubled Killingworth family.’ They’ve even dragged up my husband’s disappearance.”
“I’m sorry to hear,” Dan said. “I hope things are resolved as quickly as possible.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a resigned smile, the gracious hostess whose concern is first and foremost for the comfort of her guest.
“Where is Sebastiano? If I may ask?”
Thom answered. “We’ve arranged for him to stay at a hotel downtown until the body is released. Then he’ll go home with Daniella. Under the circumstances, we thought it best that he was somewhere else.”
“Of course. It would be difficult to have him around. There is one other thing you might want to know,” Dan said, looking from mother to son. “Daniella was pregnant when she died.”
Thom’s face flushed. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“How awful,” Lucille said quietly.
“My god,” Thom said, anger overtaking the shock. He turned to the fireplace. “These people were unbelievable!” His mother put a hand on his shoulder. Thom turned to face Dan again. “We had no idea. None!”
“It is quite incredible,” said Lucille. “To think that Thom was so thoroughly deceived by these people. Is there anything else we should know?”
“Not at the moment,” Dan said. “But I’ll let you know anything I find out — provided I have a legal right to do so.”
“I understand,” said Lucille. “We wouldn’t ask you to do anything that might compromise yourself.” She took his hand and squeezed it warmly. “You’ve done a great deal to ease our minds, Daniel. Thank you. Is there anything we can do for you?”
Dan’s eyes met hers. For a moment he wondered again why he was here. He couldn’t see that he’d done or said anything that might be of use. “Not at all. I’m happy you feel I’ve been helpful.”
“Then we won’t keep you,” Lucille said. “Thank you again. My son will see you to the door.” She swept out of the room with more assurance than when she’d entered, her conscience eased, her heels making small clicking sounds.
Thom sat shaking his head and looking down at the floor. “Fucking hell,” he said at last. “This is really awful.”
“I’m sorry things have turned out so badly,” Dan said.
“I can’t believe I trusted that guy. I mean, I’m not naïve. I knew I was helping him, but obviously he was just waiting to get his citizenship, then he would have dumped me and brought her in as his wife.”
“I doubt they would have got away with it,” Dan said.
“And the pregnancy! I guess I can tell you why I — why my mother and I — were shocked when you mentioned it. A good portion of my grandfather’s money is held in trust for the first great-grandchild.”
A clock chimed three. It had been less than half an hour since he arrived, but Dan felt he’d been there for ages. “Did Sebastiano know?”
“He knew.” Thom made a sound of disgust. “And I agreed to it. They duped me completely. The plan was for her to have a child with help from a fertility clinic after the wedding. But it was supposed to be my child! I might never have known!”
He looked tormented, as he had the morning they’d gone to identify Daniella’s body, as though truth had a demoralizing rather than an edifying effect on him. Thom was one of the ones who got no relief from the knowing, Dan saw.
Thom straightened suddenly and laid a hand on Dan’s knee. There was nothing lascivious in the gesture, his expression set beyond all that. “Thank you,” he said. “You’ve really been great about everything. I’ll tell Bill how helpful you’ve been.”
“I was happy to help.”
Thom stood. In the hallway, Dan said, “I thought Bill was going to be here. His message gave me that impression.”
“No, I don’t think Bill intended to be here this afternoon. At least not that I was aware of.”
Something in Thom’s expression suggested otherwise. Dan ignored it. He busied himself with his leave-taking. The putting on of his jacket, followed by a patting of pockets and the double-checking — Ah, here they are! — for his keys. They both pretended to be taken in by this dumbshow. Thom’s self-assurance had returned. He shook his head sympathetically. “Maybe Bill changed his mind.”
“I must have misunderstood,” Dan said.
Thom opened the door and Dan stepped through into what was, all things considered, just another ordinary day. The world beyond seemed a little less dazzling than the one he was leaving. He hadn’t wanted to be there. Now that he was, he didn’t want to leave.
“I’ll be in touch,” he said.
The drive across St. Clair and down Bayview delivered him to his driveway in less than twenty minutes. He could have returned to the office, but he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate. On the way home, he mulled over his visit to the Killingworths. He hadn’t helped them in any way he could see. Had they simply wanted hand-holding? He pulled out his cell and left a message for Bill saying how the meeting went.
Ralph did an anxious little dance at the back door, wanting to be let out. Then he came back in and settled on his bed in the corner. Ked wasn’t due for another two hours. There was nothing further demanding Dan’s attention. Me Time, he told himself. It had been weeks since he’d been jogging. His leg muscles ached with anticipation.
He stood on the rise over Riverdale Park with its view of the downtown skyline. The city spread out like a medical cadaver, the skin peeled back to reveal the working organs, muscles, and nervous system. It seemed incredible to think he’d lived here for twenty years. He padded across the metal footbridge, down the stairs, and turned north. His run took him through a drainage tunnel echoing with the chirps of mechanical frogs — some civil servant’s idea of an ecological joke — under the arches of the Bloor Viaduct. Above, subway trains and rush hour traffic raced along as the 905-ers abandoned the city for another day.
His feet pounded the trail as his mind melded with the green space whizzing past. He climbed a gradient running headlong with the Don Valley Parkway — more cars escaping the city. Here the path headed toward Pottery Road and the supposed haven of leafy suburbs or, if you turned right instead of left, on to Scarborough, where it was said that bad Torontonians went when they died. (The good ones, presumably, going to Vancouver.)
A helicopter hovered overhead, stuck in the loop of rush-hour traffic reports. A posse of bikers passed in the other direction, heading for the lakeshore trail, always crowded with roller-bladers and dog walkers these days. Dan preferred the quiet of