Suffer the Children - By John Saul Page 0,123

and had not been back in the fourteen years since. Now, as she drove into town, she decided that it was time to take one more look at her past.

She intended only to drive around the square, but she found herself stopping at the offices of the Port Arbello Courier. Before she went in she glanced across at the grim old Armory, still unchanged from the old days. So, she thought, Rose never followed through on her project to convert it to a shopping arcade. Just as well. She pushed open the door to the Courier and knew at once that Jack Conger was no longer there.

Everything was changed, and most of the old staff was gone. But she spotted one familiar face, a face that looked at her curiously.

“Miss Bannister?” the person said, and Sylvia realized that the young man had been a copy boy when she left. Now he was an editor. Things did change.

“I was looking for Mr. Conger,” she said doubtfully. “But I get the feeling he isn’t here any more.”

The young man stared at her. “You mean you didn’t hear?” he asked. “He died. Nine or ten years ago.”

“I see,” Sylvia said. “What about Mrs. Conger? Does she still live out on the Point?”

The young editor shook his head. “Only Elizabeth. Mrs. Conger died the same time that Mr. Conger did.”

He didn’t explain, and Sylvia left the office. She almost decided to leave Port Arbello and continue northward, but she changed her mind. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted to see Elizabeth Conger. She turned her car around and headed out the Conger’s Point Road.

The house hadn’t changed, and Sylvia parked her car in front of the porch. She glanced out at the woods as she mounted the steps, and a chill ran through her body as she wondered what had really happened out there. She noticed the construction as she rang the bell.

A tall and strikingly beautiful young woman answered the door and looked at her curiously. From the blond hair Sylvia Bannister knew at once who it was.

“Elizabeth?” she said.

The young woman nodded. “May I help you?” She thought she knew the woman from somewhere, but she wasn’t sure. And so many strangers knocked on her door, asking her questions about the past. Questions she couldn’t answer.

“I’m not sure if you’ll remember me,” Sylvia said. “I’m Sylvia Bannister.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said, opening the door wide. “My father’s secretary. Please, come in.”

Sylvia glanced around the house as Elizabeth led her through to the back study. Nothing, it appeared, had changed.

“I don’t know why,” Elizabeth was saying, “but we all seem to wind up living in here. I hardly ever use the living room any more, and Mother’s old office is completely closed off.”

“I heard about your parents,” Sylvia said gently. “I just wanted to stop by and tell you how sorry I am.”

“Don’t be,” Elizabeth said. “It may sound harsh, but I’m sure they’re happier now.”

“Do you mind if I ask you what happened?” Sylvia asked.

“Not at all. It’s been almost ten years since they died, and I don’t mind talking about it any more. And maybe you could answer some questions for me. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Sylvia said. “I’ll tell you whatever I can.”

The two women sat down, and Elizabeth told Sylvia what had happened to Jack and Rose Conger.

“It happened about five years after they had to send Sarah to Ocean Crest,” she said. “Just after my eighteenth birthday, to be exact. Of course, we’ll never know exactly what happened, but Dad took Mother out sailing one day. And they didn’t come back. Everyone assumed there had been some kind of an accident, but a week after it happened the manager of the marina, I can’t remember his name, found all the life preservers from the Sea Otter stuffed into one of the lockers. Since Dad was always careful about things like that, they decided that it wasn’t an accident after all. Apparently Dad just took Mother out, and sank the boat with both of them on it.” She paused a minute and seemed to think. “I’ve started to put it all together, I guess. At the time, of course, it didn’t make any sense to me at all. But over the years I’ve started to find out more and more about what must have been happening to him. I think I can understand it now. I think it just got to be too much for Dad. Apparently

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