Concealed in Death (In Death #38)(52)

“It seemed bigger without all of us in it, without all the furnishings, the equipment, supplies. And yet it seemed smaller at the time. It had been let go, if you understand me. They’d had break-ins—the rep gave full disclosure. The bathrooms had been gutted of anything useful or sellable. You could see there’d been some squatting.”

He pressed his lips together. “A terrible, stale smell to the place that would never have been permitted with Philadelphia in charge. I heard mice in the walls. Or it might’ve been rats. I went from bottom to top and back again. I wouldn’t, couldn’t have missed bodies. They must have been put there later.”

“Do you ever do any handiwork around the place? Any repairs.”

He laughed again, wiggled his fingers. “All thumbs. I remember being on painting detail once, and hating it. I bribed another boy to take my duty. We were required to do work around the building. Cleaning, painting as I said—and were encouraged to work with the handyman—what was his name? Brady—no, Brodie—and with Montclair.”

“The brother who died in Africa.”

“Yes, a terrible and tragic end to a quiet and simple life.”

He paused for a beat, as if in respect for the dead.

“We were encouraged, as I said, to help, and would be given more training if we showed an aptitude for plumbing or carpentry. Which I certainly did not.”

Another barking laugh at the thought.

“One of the staff played the piano and brought in a keyboard. Ms. Glenbrook—I had a terrible crush on her,” he said with a dreamy smile. “She’d give music instruction, which I took due to the crush, but again, I had no talent at all. Another gave basic art lessons, or more involved lessons for those who had interest. We had a couple of staff who had solid e-skills, so we had that. It was, even in the sad old building, a well-rounded experience. Whether we wanted it or not, and many of us—including me for far too long—didn’t. We just wanted to get high. That was the goal for some of us.”

“And you scored?”

“We’d find ways. The addicted always do. We were caught—nearly always—but it didn’t matter to us, not then. For some, it would never matter.”

“And the staff? Did they use?”

“No. Certainly not to my knowledge, and I would have known. Zero tolerance. Any staff member, anyone who volunteered or worked there would be shown the door immediately, and the police notified.”

“What about sex?”

“Teenagers, Lieutenant.” He unfolded his hands long enough to lift them in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Sex is another kind of drug, another kind of high. And the forbidden is always the most exciting.”

“Did you try out any of these girls?”

“You don’t have to answer that, sir.”

The bodyguard who doubled as a lawyer spoke up, her face carved in dispassion.

“It’s all right. I’ve long accepted and repented my many sins. I don’t remember ever having relations with any of these girls, but if I’d been high, I might not remember. Still, they look young. Younger than I was. There’s a pecking order, if you will.”

But Eve saw his gaze linger on Shelby’s photo, and thought he remembered her and her bj bargaining chip well enough.

“Any of the staff hit on the kids?”

“I never heard about anything like that and you’d hear. I know I was never approached, and I’d have given up my cache of zoner if Ms. Glenbrook had crooked her finger in my direction.”

He leaned forward again, just a bit more this time, held out his hands. “We were given what we needed at The Sanctuary. Shelter, food, boundaries, discipline, reward, education. Someone cared enough to give us what we needed. And when we moved locations, became the Higher Power Cleansing Center for Youths, we were given more of it, in a better place, because they had more funding. Without what I was given, without the opportunity to see the path, to accept the higher power, I would never have seen or lived up to my own potential, or had the courage to offer a new way to others.”

“These girls never had the chance to find out what their potential might have been,” Eve reminded him. “Somebody cut all of that off, shut off their lives.”

He bowed his head a couple respectful inches. “I can only believe they’re in a better place.”

“I don’t see dead as better. Save the higher power,” she told him before he could speak. “This is murder. Wherever they are, nobody had the right to put them there.”

“Of course not, of course not. To take a life is the ultimate sin against all life. I only meant with the pain and trouble and hardship these girls likely knew, they’re at peace now.”

Eve sat back. “Is that what they taught you at The Sanctuary, at HPCCY? That being dead at peace is better than living a hard life?”

“You misunderstand.”

He pressed his palms together, aiming the tips of his fingers toward her, and spoke earnestly.

“Finding your life, the light in it, the peace and richness in that, no matter how difficult, is what lifts us above the animals. Offering a hand to those in need, a kind word, a place of shelter, a chance to spread the light and guide us on our path, and when the path ends, there is even greater light, deeper peace. It’s that I wish for these unfortunate girls. I’ll hope for the same for their killer. That he accepts what he’s done, repents it, offers his contrition.”