Tell by Norah McClintock Read Free Book Online Page B

probably the only things he had ever won. He was probably one of those guys whose best years were in high school.
    â€œAnd you?” Detective Antonelli said.
    â€œI took swimming lessons in school. My swimming instructor said I was a better swimmer than any ten-year-old he had ever seen.”
    Detective Antonelli said, “This is going somewhere, right, David?”
    I said it was. I told him how broken up my mother had been when Jamie drowned.
    â€œIf he was wearing a life jacket, how did he drown?” Detective Antonelli said.
    â€œThat’s the thing,” I said. “Jamie never listened. Or if he did, he listened to what you told him to do and then he did the opposite. He was going out in the boat with Phil. The boat belonged to the same guy who let Phil have the cottage. It had a big outboard motor on it. They were out there together—Phil and Jamie. It was my mother’s idea. You know, let them have a little quality time together and maybePhil would warm up to Jamie, and Jamie would listen to Phil for a change. I was on the shore. I could see them. They weren’t out all that far. Phil had paddled out to where the water was deep and he wanted to start the engine. I could see that Jamie didn’t have his life jacket on.”
    â€œDavid, I’m sorry about your brother,” Detective Antonelli said. “But unless this has something to do—”
    â€œI think my mother liked that Phil carried Jamie’s picture around with him all the time,” I said. “I think that made her believe that Phil really loved Jamie. It sure made everyone else believe it. People were always telling Phil what a good guy he was, but how maybe he made it hard on himself, having that picture with him all the time. He got a lot of sympathy from it. One time he told me he got a lot of free drinks too, you know, from people who would see the picture on his key chain and say, Is that your son? And then he’d tell them the whole story.” Well, he didn’t tell the
whole
story. He told his version ofit. “And people would feel sorry for him and buy him a beer.”
    Someone knocked on the door to the interview room. It was a cop. He said, “The mother wants to be in here with her son. She’s making a big fuss about it. She says she’s going to call a lawyer.”
    Detective Antonelli sighed and looked at me.
    â€œShe can come in if she wants,” I said. “But first I want to tell you about my brother Jamie.”
    â€œAfter that you’ll tell about your stepfather?”
    I said I would. Then I told him about Jamie. I told him a few other things too. After he listened, he sent another cop to check on some of what I said. When the other cop finally came back into the room, he said something to Detective Antonelli in a quiet voice that I couldn’t hear. Detective Antonelli said, “Show Mrs. Benson in.”

Chapter Eleven
    When my mother came back into the room, her eyes were pink and swollen. She had been crying. But her lipstick and mascara looked just fine, so I figured she must have done a repair job in the bathroom. The little gold-framed picture of Jamie still sat in the middle of the table. My mother seemed startled to see it there. Maybe she thought it should have been taken away as evidence.
    â€œPlease sit down, M rs. Benson,” Detective Antonelli said.
    She sat down next to me, but didn’t look at me. She didn’t ask me how I was either.
    Detective Antonelli said, “Mrs. Benson, do you think that what happened to your husband had anything at all to do with your son’s death?”
    My mother looked even more startled.
    â€œI don’t see how,” she said. “Jamie’s death was an accident.” Her hand went to her hair, and she started to fiddle with the ends of it.
    Detective Antonelli looked at her for a few moments. Then he glanced at me. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. But cops are