your great-grandson, Teddy. Was he an outgoing boy, or more shy?”
“ Outgoing, definitely,” she said. “He was the most cheerful little person you can imagine.”
“Can you tell us a bit about your plans for Teddy’s third birthday?”
“I was planning to cook Teddy his favorite lunch. Spaghetti and meatballs. And a chocolate cake with vanilla frosting. The weather was supposed to be fine that day. We were going to visit the zoo after lunch. Up in the Bronx.”
“When was the last time you’d seen your granddaughter, Angela, before that day?”
“The day before.”
“What happened during that meeting?”
“I gave her money. And a new outfit of clothes for him to wear—matching shirt and little overalls, with those shoes he had his heart set on.”
“What was the money for? To buy presents?” asked Bost.
“No, dear.” Mrs. Underhill shook her head. “That money was for drugs.”
“Why would you give your granddaughter money for drugs?”
“Because she told me she’d let me have Teddy, for the right price. And I knew I had to get him away from her, and Albert Williams.”
“And how much money did you give her?” asked Bost.
“A thousand dollars.”
“I see,” said Bost. “And did Teddy come to visit you with his mother the day you gave her that money?”
Mrs. Underhill clutched her purse tighter. “Yes. Teddy came with Angela that day.”
“How long had it been since you’d seen him?”
“A little more than six weeks.”
“How did Teddy seem the afternoon before his birthday? Was he excited about it?”
“He wasn’t feeling very well.”
“Was he sick?” asked Bost.
Mrs. Underhill looked down, fiddling with the catch of her purse. “No. He wasn’t sick.”
“Can you tell us why Teddy wasn’t feeling well?”
“He’d gotten hurt.”
“Hurt how, Mrs. Underhill?”
“Burned. On a hot iron.”
“Did you see this burn?”
“I did. I took him upstairs and put some ointment on it, and some gauze.”
“Where was the burn, Mrs. Underhill?”
“In the middle of his back.”
“Mrs. Underhill, Teddy didn’t do that himself, did he?” asked Bost.
Elsie Underhill raised her head. “Of course not, Ms. Bost.”
“And was this the first time you’d come across evidence of such a serious injury to your great-grandson?”
“No.” She raised a fist to her mouth, pressing the knuckle of her index finger against the center of her lips.
“Can you tell us about any other injuries you’d seen before finding the burn mark on Teddy’s back that day?”
Elsie covered her mouth and wept.
Bost tried again. “Had Teddy been hurt when you’d last seen him six weeks earlier?”
Cate gripped my hand, her fingernails digging into my palm. It hurt but I didn’t care.
Bost’s voice was quiet. “I know this must be incredibly painful for you, but you have to answer the question.”
Mrs. Underhill dropped her hand from her mouth and hugged the black purse tight to her chest with both arms. “I begged her.”
“Angela?” said Bost.
“I told her, ‘I have not raised my hand to a child. Never to your mama, never to you. Don’t let this boy get hurt again. Leave him safe with me.’ ”
Bost waited.
“I got down on my knees.” Elsie turned in her seat, addressing her granddaughter directly. “Honey, you know I did—just the same as when I begged your mama to let me keep you.”
“When did you ask Angela to let you have Teddy?” asked Bost. “Was it during their visit to you, the day before his third birthday?”
“That was the last time.”
“But not the only time?” asked Bost.
Elsie shook her head. “You asked whether I’d seen the boy injured before that day.”
“Yes,” said Bost. “I did.”
“The truth is, I had seen him hurt over and over again.”
“How had Teddy been hurt on those other occasions?”
“One time he had a black eye. One time his little arm was all swollen. Then his leg was too sore to walk. It was always something.”
“When did Teddy’s injuries first come to your attention, Mrs.
Underhill?”
“After Angela and Teddy moved in with Albert Williams,” she said.
“Did you ever ask your granddaughter about what had happened when you saw Teddy with a black eye, or a swollen arm?”
“I didn’t have to. I knew.”
“And when did you first ask her to let Teddy move in with you?”
“When she met that man.” Mrs. Underhill pointed at Williams.
“Albert Williams?” asked Bost.
“Yes. When Angela told me she planned to live with him, I asked her to leave Teddy with me. Just for a while. Let them get on their feet together.”
“Did she agree to do that?”
Mrs. Underhill shook her head, looking like she was going to cry again. “I was so afraid.”
“Of what?” asked Bost.
“That I’d lose her,