“Hi, Carmine, it’s Wanda. Is Mr. Colabucci there?”
“So Wanda, how’d it go?” Vinnie asked as soon as he got on.
“Fine. I had a session with the doctor. That guy you sent down, he said he got in, copied everything and got out. The doctor won’t even know he’s been hit.”
“Good. Is he on his way back here with the film?”
“Uh huh. He said he’d develop it first and bring it to you later tonight. He said you should call him and tell him where to deliver it.”
“Okay. Good. What’s this doctor like?”
Wanda thought about telling him the truth. If she couldn’t get back to see Reece, what use was she to Vinnie?
“He’s nice.” Actually she thought he might be gay. The guy seemed terrified to be in the same room with her.
“He’s nice. That’s it? You get him to play with your toys?”
“No. I didn’t want to make it too easy. I got him all worked up and then I cooled him off. That way he’d be sure to want to see me again. I thought that was what you wanted. So I could get back into his office if you wanted me to.”
“Yeah. That’s good, Wanda. After I read the file and figure out what this putz knows, where he’s been stickin’ his nose, I’ll call you back, tell you what to do next. You think you can get this geek to put his hands on you?”
“Oh, yeah, Mr. Colabucci. He was hot for me. Wouldn’t be hard at all.”
“Good. If we want to get him off this case, that’s the easiest way. Some eight-by-tens of him showing you his stiffy and he’s history. You figure out a way to get him alone with you. Out of the office, someplace he’s got no reason to be. We’ll plant a camera, long lens maybe. Catch him being a bad boy, boom, we got him.”
“Okay, Mr. Colabucci. I’ll come up with something.”
Wanda put down the phone and then slowly lowered herself entirely under the water. Doctor Reece actually seemed like a nice guy, real skittish, though. Maybe a suicide attempt? Bet that would get him. Late at night. I can’t talk to anyone but you. Get him to come up to the apartment. Hide the cameraman in the closet, or maybe use a hidden security video camera, like behind the bar at the club. Wear something hot, like that black lace teddy she just got for work. If he was gay, she could always jump him. Once they got all tangled up and her boobs were in his face, it’d be pretty hard to figure out who started what.
Happy with that plan, Wanda came up for air, sipped some more champagne and admired her toes, breaching so far away.
Two hours before Johnny Lentini showed up with the developed film of the Tully file, Vincent Colabucci got another phone call at the club.
“Hey, Mr. Colabucci, this is Danny Gillespie. I got something you might want to hear.”
Gillespie was a bartender at the Fifth Down Club, hired by Vinnie long ago to keep tabs on the possibilities of expanding his influence with “The Squires.”
“What is it?”
“The police were here today. Asking about Tom Tully. His wife filed a complaint against him. Said she was assaulted by some guy that Tom hired so she’d settle with him. They were asking about his whereabouts, who he hangs out with. They figure it was a player, because she said he was huge. They wanted to know if anybody has showed up with sudden money or running mouth. Whether I heard Tom threaten the bitch.”
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing. Nothing to say. If Tom did it, I don’t know anything about it. Just thought you’d want to know, Mr. Colabucci.”
“Thanks Danny. There’ll be something in this for you. Keep your ears open. You hear anything else, call right away.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Colabucci.”
Vinnie hung up the phone. The cops. That fucking moron tried to muscle her into settling. Trust me, Mr. Colabucci. She’ll roll right over, no problem, Mr. Colabucci. It’s a mortal lock. He mimicked Tommy as a falsetto, a castrati. He backhanded the phone off the desk. His grimace forced his eyes closed.
“You fuckin’ imbecile. I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” he bellowed. “Carmine, get the fuck in here.”
The door bowed, before it snapped back. Carmine filled it, his hands flexing in anticipation of tearing someone’s head off, and blinked with disappointment when he found only his boss in the room.
Vinnie ground his teeth. His head throbbed. He knew the blood vessel over his left eye would be up and pulsing. He was so mad, he wanted it to explode, to spray blood all over the room, like champagne, to celebrate his rage.
“What do you want, Boss?”
“I want that mother fuckin’ moron Tully. Find him. We’re gonna have a talk.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
Four days later, Morgan Reece got a call on his emergency line.
“Dr. Reece, this is your answering service. We have an emergency call for you. It’s a Mrs. Nash. She says she’s Tommy Tully’s teacher. She wants you to call her right away. She’ll arrange to get out of her classroom.”
“What’s the number?” He wrote down her number, and then dialed it.
“Wintergreen Elementary School. How may I help you?”
“Mrs. Nash, please.”
“She’s in class. Can I take a message?”
“This is Dr. Reece. I’m returning a call of hers. She said she’d arrange to get out of class.”
“Yes. Please hold, Dr. Reece. I’ll page her.”
Moments later, he heard faint voices in the background.
“Dr. Reece, this is Monica Nash. I’m Tommy Tully’s teacher.”
“Yes. What can I do for you?”
“Well, I’m calling since I didn’t hear from you.”
“I’m sorry. Were you expecting me to call you?”
“Yes. I told Mrs. Tully I was worried about Tommy. That was on Monday. I knew the family was being evaluated. Mr. Tully told me about you. I don’t know if you’re aware of the big scare we had here not too long ago.”
“Yes, I am. You told Ms. Tully you wanted me to call you on Monday, is that right?”
“Yes. I’m very worried about Tommy. Has anything new happened? Any major changes?”
“Did you explain to Ms. Tully what you were worried about?”
“Absolutely. I didn’t have to. She could see it with her own two eyes. I told her I thought it was important to have you talk to Tommy right away. She said she’d call you, Doctor. I’ve been waiting. Things aren’t any better, so I thought I’d call you directly.”
“Ms. Tully hasn’t been in touch with me. I’m glad you called. What’s going on with Tommy?”
“What isn’t? It started on Monday. We have a rabbit in our class. He’s in a cage in the back of the classroom. We use him to teach the kids responsibility and caring. He’s also a reward. They get to take him out of the cage and sit and hold him. Tommy never showed a particular interest in the rabbit. He didn’t dislike the animal, but nothing especially positive either. Anyway, he was going to wash his hands at the sink in the back. He’d been painting. Tommy saw that rabbit and just freaked out. He wet himself and then he started screaming. He went to the rabbit cage and tried to open it. I’m the only one with a key to the lock. He couldn’t get it open. He was sobbing hysterically. I was afraid he’d pull the cage over on himself, and hurt himself and the rabbit. So I ran back to stop him. I tried to put my arms around him and support him there, then let him let go of the cage when he was ready. He was in a frenzy. I’ve never seen him like that before. He was trying to bite me, then he slammed his head back; I thought he’d broken my nose. We both fell over. It was a mess. There was rabbit stuff all over the floor: water, food, wood chips, rabbit pellets. The rabbit was terrified, sitting in the corner of the cage shaking. I had blood running down my face from my nose. Tommy saw that and it just set him off again. It was dripping from my chin to my dress. He started screaming, ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’ Over and over again. I tried to tell him it was okay. I’d be okay. The rabbit was okay. He’d be okay. He didn’t hear a word. He just kept saying h
e didn’t want the rabbit’s foot. He was sorry. Then he broke down and started saying ‘red luck’ over and over again. I had one of the other children get the principal. We called his mother and had her come in to get him. He was still crying a bit when she got here. I told her what happened. I asked her if she’d noticed anything different at home. If he might have seen something bad that happened to a rabbit or another animal. She said no. She did say he’d had problems sleeping at night. Nightmares and he wet the bed. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe just a reaction to her being back in the house with them and his father being out until they’re in bed. She thought he’d be angry and sad and confused. She was going to watch and see if it got better after a while.”
“What happened next?”
“She got him calmed down and then she took him home. He came back the next day, but things still weren’t right.”
“How so?”
“He stayed away from the rabbit. In fact he wouldn’t even look at it. I tried to take him over to see it with me. Convince him it was okay. He wouldn’t have any part of it. He just said the rabbit wasn’t okay and wasn’t ever going to be okay and it was his fault. I didn’t push it. He’s been completely out of it this week. He can’t concentrate. He doesn’t follow any directions. When you ask him where he is, what he’s thinking about, you get nothing. That’s new for Tommy. He’s never been a particularly open or expressive child, but he’s also not been spaced out like that.
“It’s been getting worse each day this week. He doesn’t eat his lunch. He won’t even unpack it. I tried to help him. When was it, Wednesday, I think, I tried to open it for him, see if he’d eat a little. He got very angry and knocked the bag out of my hand. Technically, we have to report any assaultive behavior to the district office. They’d send out a school psychologist who’d make recommendations about whether he can be contained in a regular classroom. I didn’t do that. I figured it was so recent and you were already involved, but when you hadn’t called back, I was getting concerned.
“Today, he started pulling his hair. He’ll sit quietly in the back. He doesn’t get angry or out of control unless someone approaches him and tries to make him do something he doesn’t want to. Otherwise, he’s lost in space. I was walking around the class, quizzing the kids on some work we’d done yesterday. Tommy won’t answer any questions at all, even about schoolwork. He can’t use school the way he is now. Anyway, I saw him twirling his hair and then tugging at it. When I looked down, there was a pile of it on the floor. That’s when I called you. I wanted you to know that I’m going to have to report the situation to the principal.”
“Absolutely. I’m glad you called me. I had no idea that any of this was going on. I’m going to call Ms. Tully right away, ask her to bring Tommy right in.”
Reece put the phone down. What the fuck was going on? The kids had been with their mother less than a full week, and Tommy was a supernova of symptoms. And why hadn’t she called me? She’d had all week to follow through.
Reece dialed the Tully house. Felicia Hurtado answered.
“Is Ms. Tully there?”
“No. She is out. Can I take a message?”
“Yes, this is Dr. Reece. Is this Ms. Hurtado?”
“Yes.”
“Have you been there all week?”
“Yes. I have.”
“How is Tommy doing?”
“Not good, doctor. I don’t know what is the matter with him.”
“Is he acting like before?”
“No. It is different. He does not sleep at night. His father said one night, he had a nightmare he could not wake him from until he slapped his face.”
“Did he say what his nightmare was?”
“He said his Daddy had no skin and no feet. That he gave him ‘red luck.’ Do you know what that is, Doctor?”
“I haven’t a clue. What else is happening?”
“He does not eat very well. He had a hot dog for dinner one night, and he threw it up. Every night he waits by the phone for his father’s call. When he’s late, Tommy is very upset. He will tear up his drawings or throw his toys. He has even hit his sister. That is not Tommy, he loves her. Even when the mother was not here he did not do that.”
“Is Mr. Tully late with his calls?”
Felicia skipped a beat before answering, “Yes.”
“How often?”
“He is always late. Sometimes he does not call until after Tommy is in bed. It makes a big problem. The mother wants him to call on time so that he is rested for school. She tells him that he does not sleep until he hears from his father. He will lie there and wait. He says he is afraid that bad men will come into the house and he cannot sleep until his father calls. Then they will be okay.”
“Has he told his father this when they talk?”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Are these all things you’ve seen yourself or just heard from Mrs. Tully?”
“I have seen them myself.”
“Have you been taking care of the kids?”
“Yes. Mrs. Tully, she has not been feeling well. She asked me if I would stay to help out.”
“Is she sick?”
“I don’t know, Doctor. She is always tired and says she wants to sleep. She does not look very good. I have heard her on the phone calling her doctor for an appointment. That is where she is now.”
“When do you expect her back?”
“I don’t know. Not for an hour, I would say.”
“Tell her I called. Ask her to call me as soon as she walks in. If she can’t get through to me, ask her to use my emergency number. My service will find me and I’ll call her immediately.”
“Yes, Doctor.”
Working with the Tullys left Reece feeling like he did about his own family. The longer he looked, the less he understood.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
An hour and forty minutes later, Reece’s direct line rang. His service said that Mrs. Tully was returning his call. He took her number and rang back.
“Ms. Tully, this is Dr. Reece. I was called earlier today by Tommy’s teacher.” Pause. This is your chance to jump in with an explanation, apology, anything. Nothing.
“Ms. Tully, she says that Tommy’s been behaving very strangely at school. She said that she shared this with you. That she asked you to call me back at the first of the week.”
“I just thought that he was having trouble adjusting to all the changes. Me back, his dad out. I figured I’d wait a little bit longer before I called.”
Adjusting to changes? The kid sounds like he ate the DSM and was regurgitating it one page at a time. “I’d like to talk to Tommy. Today.” Reece flipped his daybook to the evening. “I have an opening at six. Please bring him in then.”
“Can I have Felicia do it? I’m not feeling too good.”
“No. I’d really like you to do it. If Tommy’s having problems, I think you’d make him more comfortable than she would.”
No reply. Reece sealed the deal. “See you at six.”
He hung up and wondered at all the things he wasn’t hearing in her voice.
Six o’clock came and went. His compass on this case was spinning.
The light on his desk was on. Reece went out to the waiting room. Serena Tully was sitting there with Tommy. Her face was unmade, her eyes dull and empty. She looked every second of her age. Tommy sat in the chair next to her, staring at the floor.
“Hello, Tommy,” Reece said, kneeling down trying to make eye contact. “Can you come into my office? I’d like to talk to you.”
Tommy kept his head down. Reece put out his hand. Nothing. “Ms. Tully, would you come into my office? I’d like to talk to you.”
Serena Tully reached for her son’s hand and preceded Reece into his office. He motioned her to the loveseat, which she took. Tommy climbed up next to her and put his head in her lap.
“Tommy, I wonder if you could help me today. I have a real problem.”
Tommy shook his head.
“Well, let me tell your mother about it. She might be able to help.” Reece fixed on Serena’s face. She was quite pale and her left eye had a tic.
“There’s this little boy I’m seeing in therapy. He’s just about your age. Well, this little boy, he has something on his mind all the time. He can’t stop thinking about it. I’m not a little boy anymore so I’m having trouble guessing what it might be. What do you think it could be, Tommy?”
“A secret,” he said, his head still down.
“A secret. That makes sense. Well there are good secrets and bad secrets. Can you tell me what a good secret might be?”
“A good secret is all pluses on your report card.”
“That’s right. I’d want to tell someone about that. I’d keep it a secret until the time was right. Then I’d tell when it was a big surprise. I don’t think this little boy has a good secret, but I’m not sure. How can I tell if it’s not a good secret, Tommy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bad secrets make you feel bad inside. You worry all the time that bad things will happen to you. That makes it hard to sleep. I’ve asked the little boy what makes him feel so bad, but he won’t say. Do you know what he does instead?”
“He hits you.”
“That’s right. Why would he do that, Tommy?”
“’Cause he’s angry.”
“Who’s he angry at, Tommy?”
“He’s angry at everybody.”
“Is he angry at himself, too?”
“Yes.”
“Why is he angry at himself?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it something he did?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is it something someone else did to him?”
The Mongol Reply Page 22
