Rachel Alexander 04 - Lady Vanishes

dreadlocks, impossible to see where one ended, the other began. Except for the bandage.
    “Where was she?”
    “Samuel had her.”
    “Samuel?”
    I nodded.
    “He was the one who ‘found’ you, Venus, after you were hit.”
    She reached up and touched the bandage.
    “Are you saying he killed Harry?”
    “It seems so. I dropped him off at the precinct. The detectives are questioning him now.”
    She pulled Lady a little closer.
    “Why?”
    “Why is the hardest part of the work I do, Venus, because you and I wouldn’t take the road Samuel took, even if we had identical reasons. Someone convinces himself that killing another human being is okay, how can we expect to understand the why?”
    “I’d still like to know. Even if I won’t understand. The man killed my husband, tried to kill me. I have a right to know what he was thinking, what he was after.”
    “Yes, you do. He says he took Lady because she was getting all the attention, all the appreciation.”
    “Oh, good grief.”
    “He said he was working really hard and that he was devoted to the kids and Harbor View, as devoted as anyone, but no one noticed, no one gave him the atta-boys he needed. He thought if Lady weren’t around, maybe he’d be noticed. Maybe Eli would notice him. He said he planned to bring her back. Maybe he thought he’d do that, be a big hero. I don’t know. And he claims he took good care of her, which apparently he did. She’s fine. But whether or not he would have returned her to Harbor View”—I shrugged—“we’ll never know for sure.”
    “And Harry?”
    “He called him Uncle Harry. I guess he expected more from him, maybe an unreasonable amount more, affection, praise, money, respect, all the things he craves and doesn’t feel he gets.”
    “So he killed him?”
    I nodded.
    “I told you we can’t understand this. It’s crazy, doing what he did. Someone else would have gotten a job elsewhere, found a niche of his own. But Samuel has spent his life beating his head against the wall, trying to get love out of a stone.”
    “I sure wouldn’t want Eli for a daddy. All his energy goes into Harbor View. None of it goes into his own kids. Never did, as far as I can tell. Even with the residents, he’s thoughtful, intelligent, willing to experiment with new things, but there’s no connection.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “He’s a suit. He’s formal. He’s cold. He never touches anyone.” She bent her face to Lady again. When she picked it up, there were more tears. “Lots of people have inadequate parents, Rachel. They don’t all go out and murder.”
    “If he focused his childish needs and expectations on Harry—”
    “Because he couldn’t get what he needed from Eli—“
    “Then, in a perverse way, it makes sense. Look, Venus, once someone walks away from what’s considered normal, the pattern of their thinking changes. Sometimes they believe they are forced to do the horrible things they do, that the victim asked for it, or left them no choice, or that they had to teach the victim a lesson.”
    “A lesson!”
    “I know it’s bizarre.” I shook my head. “My sister used to love to scare me when we were little, and one time she read me this story, maybe it was Poe, I’m not sure, about some guy who got walled up by his father, I think. Because the old man wanted to teach him a lesson. I couldn’t get that out of my mind, the insanity of it, because as each brick was put in place, he knew, and I knew, he was going to die there. Some lesson.“
    “He took Lady to get the positive attention he thought he deserved and that she was getting. And when that didn’t work, he killed Harry?”
    “Maybe it was the lesser of two evils.”
    “Meaning?”
    “That he couldn’t kill the person he was really mad at.“
    “His father. So Harry was—”
    “A stand-in. I told you it wouldn’t make sense.”
    “And me? What was I?”
    I reached out and put a hand on Dashiell’s back. He looked at me and wagged his tail.
    “I wonder if he thought that if all the people who were appreciated at Harbor View were gone, his father would have to notice him,” I said.
    “That’s pathetic.”
    If it were true, wouldn’t this still be the beginning? Who would be next? Molly? Me? Even his brother.
    “Thank God he’s at the precinct.”
    I wondered how far he would have gone to get the attention he was after.
    The door opened, and Olive Oyl popped her round head in.
    “Time to go,” she said.