Without prejudice - By Andrew Rosenheim Page 0,90

can babysit for me when Mom and Dad go out.’

Christ, thought Robert – what will she think of next? Even Anna looked uncomfortable. But Duval batted it back, saying, ‘I’m sure you got yourself some nice babysitters already.’

‘Mrs Peterson,’ said Sophie, and made a face.

‘There’s plenty of other things to do, Duval.’ Anna spoke before Robert could intervene. ‘It’s a big place – something’s always not working right. And there’s plenty of gardening jobs. I want to have flower beds dug, and maybe plant some more trees. Once I have a plan, I could use some help.’

She continued talking in this unprecedented horticultural vein until they’d had dessert and Robert paid the bill. Outside the restaurant, when Anna and Sophie said goodbye, the little girl spontaneously hugged Duval. He stooped down awkwardly and put his arms around her in return. Anna shook his hand. ‘You make sure you see that Donna lady again at the centre this week,’ she said.

That Donna lady? thought Robert. Even Anna’s English was turning American.

He stood with Duval as Anna and Sophie drove off, then Robert took three twenty-dollar bills he had folded in his shirt pocket and handed them to Duval.

‘What’s this for?’

‘You did some work, so I owe you some money. Simple as that.’

‘I wouldn’t call it work. You put me up, you fed me. I had a nice bed.’

‘Go on, take it.’

He was glad when Duval did. They got in the car, staying silent, listening to the radio until they reached the outskirts of Chicago, when Duval suddenly declared, ‘You’re a lucky man, you know. You got yourself a wonderful family. That little girl – she’s a pistol. And Anna, she’s as nice as she can be.’

‘Thank you,’ Robert said, hoping the laudatory gush could now stop. ‘Would you like to have a family, Duval?’

‘Sure.’ His voice was short. ‘Not likely though, is it?’

‘You’re not that old, Duval. Lots of people just get started at our age.’

‘I wasn’t talking about my age. I’d have to meet somebody who believed me, Bobby. People think if you did the time, you did the crime.’

‘Not necessarily. There are all these cases where DNA shows the wrong people have been put in prison. I read about one in the paper just last week.’

‘I did too. He done six years.’ A mere bagatelle, his voice suggested.

‘People aren’t so quick to judge now they see that the system can get it wrong. It may take a while but there’s no reason you won’t meet somebody, settle down, even have kids.’

‘It’s not just whether I did it that worries them.’

‘Oh?’ They had come off the Skyway now, and he turned to head for Cornell Avenue, slowing at the corner as an ambulance flashed by with no siren on.

‘They have to ignore the missing twenty-four years.’ There was a relentless quality to his voice. ‘They have to think it didn’t twist me up, my being put away so long. They have to trust me.’

‘It doesn’t seem to me you’re twisted up.’

They’d reached Jermaine’s house, and Robert pulled over but left the engine running. He reached out a hand and they shook.

‘Thank you,’ said Duval.

‘Thank you,’ said Robert. ‘At least I know the garage window won’t fall out tomorrow, which it would if I’d done it.’

Duval gave a weak laugh and opened the door. He got out, then leaned down, his expression suddenly set, and spoke through the open window. ‘You should trust me, too, Bobby.’

‘I do, Duval.’

‘Then why did you lock the door last night?’

4

A front of heavy stratocumulus moved down from Wisconsin and the temperature dropped 20 degrees. Staff were starting to go on summer holiday, but Vicky had deferred hers to coincide with his trip to Frankfurt in October. She seemed determined now to conduct herself at some imagined professional standard – there was no more reading of novels during slow moments. When Balthazar called that afternoon, she put him through right away, and Robert picked up the phone happily, noting that like many friendless people, he was starting to mistake acquaintance for amity.

Balthazar said, ‘I told him not to talk to you.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Coach Carlson. I don’t know what you said to him, but it worked.’ Balthazar sounded both impressed and irritated. ‘Though who the hell is Candy Williams?’

‘A legend in her time.’

‘What time is that – 1875?’

‘I did my best,’ said Robert. ‘So what’s the story?’

‘We’ve had four bids in. Carlson says if you can match the best one, then the book is yours.’

‘What do I have

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