Camouflage(5)
“What’s the trouble with Bobby?” I asked.
This wasn’t easy for Runyon. He sat tight-mouthed for a few seconds, scraping fingernails along his hammerhead jaw, before he answered. “Bryn thinks he’s being abused. Physically.”
“Christ. By whom?”
“His father. Robert Darby. West Portal lawyer, used his position to convince a judge to grant him primary custody.”
“But you’re not sure about the abuse?”
“Bryn is. Bobby showed up at school with a fractured arm, claimed it happened in a fall. The doctor who set it found bruises on the kid’s back and arms. Bobby said he got them playing football with a couple of schoolmates.”
“Any other physical evidence?”
“No. But Bryn says there’ve been personality changes consistent with abuse—withdrawal, that kind of thing.”
“Has she confronted her ex?”
“Roundabout. He denies it, naturally.”
“Taken her suspicions to Bobby’s school counselor or Social Services?”
“Not enough proof without his cooperation.”
“Any chance she could get the boy to a child psychologist, draw it out of him that way?”
Runyon shook his head. “She’s afraid to do anything that might provoke Darby into legally shoving her all the way out of the kid’s life.”
“He sounds like a bastard.”
“First-class.”
“Have you met him?”
“Once. I went to his office a couple of days ago.”
I didn’t say anything.
Runyon said, “Yeah, I know. But I had to do it.”
“Tell Bryn you were going to see him?”
“No. I didn’t want to upset her. Or get her hopes up.”
“How’d you approach him?”
“Calm and polite, as a concerned friend.”
“Tell him you’re a detective?”
“No way around it. Friend wasn’t enough for him—he demanded to know who I was and I didn’t want to start off by lying to him.”
“Bet I can guess his reaction.”
“Yeah. He went all hard-ass lawyer, warned me to keep my nose out of his private life, and threw me out.”
“What was your take? Think Bryn’s right about him?”
“Capable of child abuse—capable of just about anything. Acted outraged and protective of Bobby, called Bryn a paranoid hysteric, but the guilty ones take that line same as the innocent.”
“Every time.”
“That’s where it stands now,” Runyon said. “Nowhere.”
“And you’re wondering what I’d do if I were in your shoes.”
“Like I said, I can use your input. You’ve had experience with kids—Emily’s not much older than Bobby.”
“Well, the smart answer is drop it, don’t get any more involved.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself. But I can’t just walk away. Would you be able to?”
“Probably not.”
“So?”
“So you’ve got to be pretty careful, Jake. Any kind of strong-arm stuff is out. So is confronting Darby straight on.”
“I know it. He’d sue me for harassment in a New York minute.”
“You run a background check on him?”
“First thing. Nothing there. His record’s clean except for one speeding ticket and an unprofessional ethics charge that got him a warning from the ABA five years ago.”
A waitress finally showed up to take our order for a couple of Anchor Steam drafts. The interruption gave me time to weigh Runyon’s problem. When we were alone again, I said, “You’ve met the boy, right? Spend much time with him?”
“Not much, no. Bryn only gets him two weekends a month.”
“The next is when?”
“This weekend. She picked him up at school today.”
“Is he easy to talk to, get along with?”
“Shy. Doesn’t say much.”
“Would Bryn let you take him somewhere without her?”
“… She might. But if he won’t tell his mother he’s being abused, he’s not going to open up to a stranger.”
“His mother’s not a detective. You’ve interrogated kids before, same as I have. There’re ways to do it without making it seem like an interrogation.”
Runyon thought that over. “Maybe,” he said.
“Worth a shot,” I said. “I don’t see anything else you can do without risking a lawsuit and jeopardizing your license. Except be there for Bryn and the boy.”
“That’s a given. Thanks.”
“Por nada. Keep me posted.”
He said he would. The beers arrived then and we shifted the conversation to agency business while we drank them.