With her professional experience, Marsha expected VJ to deny the allegation initially, and then when denial proved to be impossible, to use some preadolescent externalization of responsibility. But VJ did neither.
“Yes, it is true,” VJ said flatly. “I am sorry for the deceit. I apologize for any embarrassment it may have caused you. None was intended.”
For a moment Marsha felt like someone had let the air out of her sails. How she would have preferred the standard, childish denial. But even in this instance, VJ varied from the norm. Looking up, she glanced at Victor. He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“My only excuse is that I am doing fine at school,” VJ said. “I’ve considered that my main responsibility.”
“School is supposed to challenge you,” Victor said, suspecting Marsha was stumped by VJ’s utter calm. “If school is too easy, you should be advanced. After all, there have been cases where children your age have matriculated into college, even graduated.”
“Kids like that are treated like freaks,” VJ replied. “Besides, I’m not interested in more structure. I’ve learned a lot at the lab, much more than at school. I want to be a researcher.”
“Why didn’t you come and talk to me about this?” Victor said.
“I just thought it would be the easiest way,” VJ said. “I was afraid if I asked to spend more time at the lab, you’d say no.”
“Thinking you know the outcome of a discussion shouldn’t keep you from talking,” Victor said.
VJ nodded.
Victor looked at Marsha to see if she was about to say anything else. She was thoughtfully chewing the inside of her cheek. Sensing that Victor was looking at her, she glanced at him. He shrugged. She did the same.
“Well, we’ll talk about this again,” said Victor. Then he and Marsha left VJ’s room and retreated down the back stairs.
“Well,” Victor said, “at least he didn’t lie.”
“I can’t get over it,” Marsha said. “I was sure he was going to deny it.” She retrieved her glass of wine, freshened it, and sat down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. “He’s difficult to anticipate.”
“Isn’t it a good sign that he didn’t lie?” Victor asked, leaning up against the kitchen counter.
“Frankly, no,” said Marsha. “Under the circumstances, for a child his age, it’s not normal at all. Okay, he didn’t lie, but he didn’t show the slightest sign of remorse. Did you notice that?”
Victor rolled his eyes. “You really are never satisfied, are you? Well, I’m not convinced this is so important. I skipped a bunch of days back in high school. I think the only real difference was that I was never caught.”
“That’s not the same thing,” Marsha said. “That kind of behavior is typical of adolescent rebellion. That’s why you didn’t do it until you were in high school. VJ is only in fifth grade.”
“I don’t think forging a few notes, especially when he is doing okay in school, means the boy is going to grow up to a life of crime. He’s a prodigy, for God’s sake. He skips school to be in a lab. The way you’re acting, you’d think we’d discovered he was on crack.”
“I wouldn’t be concerned if it were just this. But there’s a whole complex of qualities that are just not right about our son. I can’t believe you don’t see—”
A crashing sound from outside froze Marsha in mid-sentence.
“Now what?” said Victor.
“It sounded like it came from near the garage,” Marsha answered.
Victor ran into the family room and switched off the light. He got a battery-driven spotlight from the closet and went to the window that looked onto the courtyard. Marsha followed.
“Can you see anything?” Marsha asked.
“Not from in here,” Victor said, starting for the door.
“You’re not going outside?”
“I’m going to see who’s out there,” Victor said over his shoulder.
“Victor, I don’t want you going out there by yourself.”
Ignoring her, Victor tiptoed onto the stoop. He felt Marsha right behind him, holding on to his shirt back. There was a scraping sound coming from near the garage door. Victor pointed the spotlight in the direction and turned it on.
Within the bright beam of light, two ringed eyes looked back at Victor and Marsha, then scampered off into the night.
“A raccoon,” said Victor with relief.
9. Friday Morning
By the time Victor got to work, he had himself worked up to a minor fury over the killing of the family cat. With Marsha’s concern for VJ deepening, all they needed was the added problem of harassment. Victor knew that he had to act, and quickly, to prevent another attack, especially since they were progressively worsening. After killing the cat, what was next? Victor shuddered as he considered the possibilities.
He pulled into his parking place and killed the engine. VJ and Philip, who had been riding in the back seat, piled out of the car and took off toward the cafeteria. Victor watched them go, wondering if Marsha was right about VJ fitting a potentially dangerous psychiatric pattern. Last night after they’d gotten into bed, Marsha had told him that Mr. Remington said that VJ had been involved in a number of fights at school. Victor had been more shocked by that news than by anything else. It seemed so unlike VJ. He could not imagine it was true. And if it was, he didn’t know how he felt about it. In some ways he was proud of VJ. Was it really so bad to defend yourself? Even Remington seemed to have some admiration for the way the boy handled himself.
“Who the hell knows?” Victor said aloud as he got out of the car and started for the front door. But he didn’t get far. Out of nowhere a man dressed in a policeman’s uniform appeared.
“Dr. Victor Frank?” the man questioned.
“Yes,” Victor responded.
The man handed Victor a packet. “Something for you from the sheriff’s office,” he said. “Have a good day.”
Victor opened up the envelope and saw that he was being summoned to respond to the attached complaint. The first page read: “Sharon Carver vs. Victor Frank and Chimera, Inc.”
Victor didn’t have to read any further. He knew what he was holding. So Sharon was moving ahead with her threatened sex-discrimination suit. He felt like throwing the papers to the wind. It just made him fume all the more as he climbed the front steps and entered the building.
The office was alive with an almost electric intensity. He noticed that people eyed him as he approached, then murmured among themselves after he passed. When he got into his office and as he was removing his coat, he asked Colleen what was going on.
“You’ve become a celebrity,” she said. “It was on the news that you were the one to discover the Gephardt family murder.”
“Just what I need,” Victor said. He went over to his desk. Before he sat down he handed the Carver summons over to Colleen and told her to send it to the legal department. Then he sat down. “So what’s the good word?”
“Lots of things,” Colleen said. She handed a sheet of paper to Victor. “That’s a preliminary report concerning Hurst’s research. They just started and have already found serious irregularities. They thought you should know.”
“You are ever a bearer of good news,” Victor said. He fingered the report. Based on Hurst’s reaction to his decision to look into the matter, he wasn’t surprised, though he hadn’t thought the irregularities would show up so quickly. He would have guessed Hurst to be a bit more subtle than that.
“What else?” Victor asked, putting the report aside.
“A board meeting has been scheduled for next Wednesday to vote on the stock offering,” Colleen said, handing over a reminder slip for Victor to put in his calendar.
“That’s like getting invited to play Russian roulette,” Victor said, taking the paper. “What else?”