“Hiding in the crawlspace.”
“The— Oh my God.”
“He ran away—took a couple of buses from the Marina. His father went there looking for him and he hid because he didn’t want to go back.”
“Buses? By himself? Why?”
“He wanted to see you. Be with you.”
Choked her up. Her mouth and throat worked in little spasmodic movements; a tear wiggled down along her cheek. She started to reach a hand out across the table, a reflexive gesture that she checked in mid-motion. The hand lifted, swiped at the wetness on her cheek, then dropped back into her lap.
“Is he all right?”
“Yes. We had a long talk. Then I took him back to his father.”
“Long talk about what?” She was suddenly on her guard. “What did he say?”
“The same things he said to you on Thursday.”
“I … don’t know what you mean.”
“He didn’t do it, Bryn. You don’t have to keep lying to protect him.”
“Is that what you think I’m doing?”
“It’s what everybody in this room knows you’ve been doing.”
“No. You’re trying to trick me.…”
“I’d never do that to you. You know me better than that.”
“I don’t know anything anymore.”
“The fingerprints on the knife aren’t Bobby’s, any more than they’re yours or mine. If necessary, Mr. Dragovich will get a court order to have the boy’s fingerprints taken to prove it.” That was one of the legal options he and the attorney had discussed earlier.
Bryn’s gaze shifted to Dragovich, to Halim, then back to fix on Runyon. Reading his eyes, trying to crawl in behind them to read his mind.
“Somebody else was in the flat that afternoon,” he said. “In the kitchen with Francine. Bobby heard them talking, scuffling. Heard Francine scream.”
“… Who?”
“We don’t know yet.”
The good half of Bryn’s mouth twisted. She reached up to touch the scarf with her bandaged finger, lowered her hand again. “Man? Woman?”
“Bobby isn’t sure. Do you have any idea who it was?”
“No. No.”
“He heard the door slam just after it happened. Not long before you got there. You must have just missed seeing whoever it was.”
Silence.
“Did Bobby open the door for you, let you in?”
“No. I rang the bell, but … no.”
“Was the door closed?”
“Yes, but not locked. It should have been.”
“When you went in, where was Bobby?”
“He … In his room.”
“Bloody. Blood all over his face and shirt.”
“Oh, God, yes.”
“Did he tell you Francine was dead?”
“Yes.”
“And when you looked in the kitchen, you could tell Francine hadn’t been dead very long. And Bobby was there alone.”
“Yes. Alone. He was…”
“What was he?”
“In shock. Not very coherent.”
“And you knew he hated Francine for hurting him.”
“I hated her just as much. More.”
“But you didn’t kill her, either.”
Silence.
Runyon said, “Bobby in shock with blood all over him, nobody else in the flat, her abuse, his hate. All of that together is why you didn’t believe him, why you thought he stabbed her. Why you decided to take the blame.”
Wavering uncertainty now. The good side of her mouth worked, but no words came out.
“Isn’t it, Bryn?”
“… Yes.” In a barely audible whisper.
The others in the room stirred. Runyon reached a hand across the table, and after a moment Bryn lifted one of hers to touch his. He let himself relax then; he’d done his part.
Halim said, “You admit you lied to the police, Mrs. Darby?”
“Yes. I lied.”
“To protect your son. Is that the only reason?”
“Yes.”
“Are you willing to tell the truth now, cooperate freely?”
“Yes.”
“Did you have anything to do with the death of Francine Whalen?”
“No, I did not.”
“Do you have any knowledge of the homicide that you haven’t revealed?”
“No.”
Crabtree asked, “Did you touch the dead woman, disturb the crime scene in any way?”
“No.”
Halim again. “Did you advise your son to lie to the police?”
“No. I told him not to talk about what happened, for his own good—that I would make everything all right. That’s all.”
There were several more questions, hammering at points in Bryn’s original statement. She handled herself well, as innocent people usually do when they’ve been relieved of a heavy burden. When the ADA, Crabtree, and Dragovich had all the answers they wanted, they exited in a bunch for another conference, leaving Runyon and Bryn alone.