Excerpt of City of the Sun by David Levien
(Page 11 of 11)
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Carriero was feeling hollow-pitted in the stomach with shame.
After the burglaries, he'd moved on to other cases without any further thought
of the boy. That never would have happened during his first few years on the job.
Now, he knew, the boy's information rested frozen in the cold case file, only to
be pulled out and warmed up when the parents made inquiries or visited. The best
they could hope for was a body turning up and ending the waiting. He stood
without thinking further and crossed the squad room. He caught the man just as
he neared the door.
"Excuse me, Mr. Gabriel?"
"Yes?" The man stopped and regarded him. A low-wattage flicker
of recognition came to his face. "Oh, yeah, how are you, Officer?"
"I took your statement a while back. Good while back. I've looked into your
son's case . . ." "Yes?" A hunger leaped into Gabriel's eyes. "Have you found
out anything about it?"
Carriero chided himself for his careless phrasing. "No, I
...I don't know quite how to say it without seeming disloyal." He stopped. He
knew this wasn't team play, not good for business, as they say, but he couldn't
help it.
The father looked at him pleadingly.
"There's a man. He's an investigator. I used to work with
him. It can cost some money, but he's...I don't know what good it'll do, but
personal attention to this might be worth the cost." He held out a worn business
card. "He may not even be available," the young patrolman continued, "but you
never know."
Paul felt himself deflate. He was hoping for some hard
information, but a business card just didn't help right now. His thought was to
tell the officer about the two investigators they'd already tried, the sizable
piece of their nest egg that they'd gladly spent but which had yielded only
monthly meetings at a coffee shop as the investigators tried to pad their lack
of results in thickly worded, laser-printed reports. Instead he just took the
business card.
"Thanks. I better find my wife." Paul pocketed the card and
went off after her.
Carol sat, nearly catatonic, in the darkened living room.
Night descended silently without her even noticing. The only light in the room
flickered from the silent television. Her fragility was such that any
disappointment at all had a gross weight and power.
The door opened and Paul walked in with Tater on a leash. He
unclipped the dog, then walked over and switched off the television.
"Carol, let's go on up to bed."
Though she seemed not to hear him, she got up and walked
toward the stairs, with Paul right behind her.
At the foot of the steps, Paul clicked on the switch
illuminating the front of the house for Jamie, as they did every night.
Carol looked at him and then turned off the lights before
going up.
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Published by Doubleday. Copyright © 2008 by Levien Works, Inc.
All Rights Reserved.
