Hunter gave him a few seconds before pushing. ‘Yes, Joe, but…?’
‘But I think my sixth-grade teacher suspected it. She was always concerned, you know? Always asking me how things were at home… why I missed so many classes… why I always sat by myself at lunchtime… that sort of thing. She kept on telling me that I could tell her anything I wanted and she would keep it a secret. I never told her about any of it, but I think she knew. She was a really great teacher.’
‘Do you remember that teacher’s name?’
‘Umm… yeah – Mrs. Broadhurst.’
Hunter wrote the name down.
‘How about after you left Phoenix? After you moved awayfrom your father and the beatings? Have you mentioned any of it to anyone?’
‘No. I never told anyone. I don’t want anyone to know. I came to Chandler to start a new life and leave everything behind, not to feel sorry for the life I had. I just want to move on.’
Hunter nodded his understanding. ‘How about writing down what was happening to you? A lot of kids keep diaries, or a journal, or something on those lines. Did you have anything like that back then? Did you ever make notes of the beatings?’
Joe snorted.‘No, why would I? Not something that I would like to keep a record of. And if I did and my father ever found out about it, it would’ve just earned me another severe beating, or worse.’
Hunter took a second to scan through his notes. He had what he needed. He looked at Garcia and Captain Blake before using his hand in a cut-throat gesture.
‘We’re done here,’ he whispered.
‘Good,’ Captain Blake whispered back.
Hunter thanked Joe for his help, but this time it was Joe who paused Hunter, just as he was about to disconnect.
‘Detective?’
‘Yes?’
They could all hear Joe’s slightly restless breathing.
‘Where is he?’he finally asked.‘Where is my father?’
‘His body is being kept at the Department of Medical Examiner-Coroner here in Los Angeles.’
Silence returned to the line, but once again, no dial tone. Hunter waited.
‘Is it true what you told me?’Joe asked, sadness colliding with doubt in his tone.‘Will the state really provide for a funeral?’
‘Yes,’ Hunter confirmed, under the nods from Garcia and Captain Blake. ‘If the family cannot afford one, the state of California will provide for a dignified funeral or cremation.’
There was a long silence.
Hunter waited once again. He knew that Joe was still on the line.
‘If there is a funeral or a cremation… could you please let me know?’
‘Of course, Joe,’ Hunter replied. ‘With plenty of time. You have my word.’
Thirty-Four
The rain over downtown LA had gotten heavier, the sky darker. The drumming of raindrops against the windows of the Police Administration Building sounded like a steamroller driving over endless sheets of industrial bubble wrap, but inside the UVC Unit’s office, as Hunter put down the phone, the silence seemed absolute. For several long seconds, no one said a word, but all eyes were settled on the list of torture injuries that Terry Wilford had suffered.
Captain Blake was the first to speak.
‘Just to confirm that we’re all on the same page here.’ She rounded Hunter’s desk to face the picture board again. ‘This is no crazy, once-in-a-lifetime coincidence, right? I mean – the injuries that Victim Two suffered during his torture phase being a carbon copy of the ones that he inflicted onto his own son years ago didn’t just happen by chance, did it?’
‘We all know that in our world,’ Garcia said, gesturing first at their office then at the Robbery Homicide floor just outside their door, ‘these kinds of coincidences simply don’t exist, Captain.’ He walked over to the picture board to join her.
