"Richard's mother-"
He closed his eyes. "I lost my wife almost fifteen years ago," he said.
"I didn't know that."
"It was hard for both of us. For Richard and for myself. In retrospect I think that I should have married again. I never… never entertained the idea. I was able to have a housekeeper, and my own duties facilitated my spending more time with him than the average father might have been able to manage. I thought that was sufficient."
"And now you don't think so?"
"I don't know. I occasionally think there is very little we can do to change our destiny. Our lives play themselves out according to a master plan." He smiled briefly. "That is either a very comforting thing to believe or quite the opposite, Mr. Scudder."
"I can see how it could be."
"Other times I think there ought to have been something I could have done. Richard was drawn very much into himself. He was shy, reticent, very much a private person."
"Did he have much of a social life? I mean during high school, while he was living here."
"He had friends."
"Did he date?"
"He wasn't interested in girls at that time. He was never interested in girls until he came into that woman's clutches."
"Did it bother you that he wasn't interested in girls?"
That was as close as I cared to come to intimating that Richie was interested in boys instead. If it registered at all, Vanderpoel didn't show it. "I was not concerned," he said. "I took it for granted that Richard would ultimately develop a fine and healthy loving relationship with the girl who would eventually become his wife and bear his children. That he was not involved in social dating in the meantime did not upset me. If you were in a position to see what I see, Mr. Scudder, you would realize that a great deal of trouble stems from too much involvement of one sex with the other sex. I have seen girls pregnant in their early teens. I have seen young men forced into marriage at a very tender age. I have seen young people afflicted with unmentionable diseases. No, I was if anything delighted that Richard was a late bloomer in this area."
He shook his head. "And yet," he said, "perhaps if he had been more experienced, perhaps if he had been less innocent, he would not have been so easy a victim for Miss Hanniford."
We sat for a few moments in silence. I asked him a few more things without getting anything significant in reply. He asked again if I wanted a cup of coffee. I declined and said it was time I was getting on my way. He didn't try to persuade me to stay.
I got my coat from the vestibule closet where the housekeeper had stashed it. As I was putting it on I said, "I understand you saw your son once after the killing."
"Yes."
"In his cell."
"That is correct." He winced almost imperceptibly at the recollection. "We didn't speak at length. I tried only to do what little I could to put his mind at rest. Evidently I failed. He… he elected to mete out his own punishment for what he had done."
"I talked to the lawyer his case was assigned to. A Mr. Topakian."
"I didn't meet the man myself. After Richard… took his own life… well, I saw no point in seeing the lawyer. And I couldn't bring myself to do it."
"I understand." I finished buttoning my coat. "Topakian said Richard had no memory of the actual murder."
"Oh?"
"Did your son say anything to you about it?"
He hesitated for a moment, and I didn't think he was going to answer. Then he gave his head an impatient shake. "There's no harm in saying it now, is there? Perhaps he was speaking truthfully to the lawyer, perhaps his memory was clouded at the time." He sighed again. "Richard told me he had killed her. He said he did not know what had come over him."
"Did he give any explanation?"
"Explanation? I don't know if you would call it an explanation, Mr. Scudder. It explained certain things to me, however."
"What did he say?"
He looked off over my shoulder, searching his mind for the right words. Finally he said, "He told me that there was a sudden moment of awful clarity when he saw her face. He said it was as if he had been given a glimpse of the Devil and knew only that he must destroy, destroy."
"I see."
"Without absolving my son, Mr. Scudder, I nevertheless hold Miss Hanniford responsible for the loss of her own life. She snared him, she blinded him to her real self, and then for a moment the veil slipped aside, the blindfold was loosed from around his eyes, and he saw her plain. And saw, I feel certain, what she had done to him, to his life."
"You almost sound as though you feel it was right for him to kill her."
He stared at me, eyes briefly wide in shock. "Oh, no," he said. "Never that. One does not play God. It is God's province to punish and reward, to give and to take away. It is not Man's."
I reached for the doorknob, hesitated. "What did you say to Richard?"
"I scarcely remember. There was little to be said, and I'm afraid I was in too deep a state of personal shock to be very communicative. My son asked my forgiveness. I gave him my blessing. I told him he should look to the Lord for forgiveness." At close range his blue eyes were magnified by the thick lenses. There were tears in their corners. "I only hope he did," he said. "I only hope he did."
Chapter 8
I got out of bed while the sky was still dark. I still had the same headache I'd gone to bed with. I went into the bathroom, swallowed a couple of aspirins, then forced myself to put in some time under a hot shower. By the time I was dry and dressed, the headache was mostly gone and the sky was starting to brighten up.