I, Richard - Elizabeth George [41]
“You're saying she collects rats?” Scott asked her. “I don't think so, Willow. If you want to take the psychological viewpoint, then let's call this what it is: denial. She can't admit that she's got rats because of what rats imply.”
The men agreed with Scott, especially Beau Downey who pointed out that, as a foreigner—or furinner, as he pronounced it—Anfisa Telyegin probably didn't know a damn thing about hygiene, personal or otherwise. God only knew what the inside of her house was like. Had any of them seen it? No? Well, then, he rested his case. They ought to just set up a little accident over at 1420. A fire, say, started by bad wiring or maybe by gas leaking at the side of the house.
Scott wouldn't hear of that and Owen Gilbert began making noises to distance himself from the whole situation. Rose Hart— who lived across the street and didn't have as much invested in the situation—pointed out that they didn't really know how many rats there were, so perhaps they were getting too excited about what was really a simple situation. “Willow only saw three: the one she trapped and two others. It could be we're getting too riled up. It could be this is a simpler problem than we think.”
“But in Port Terryton, it was an infestation,” Willow cried, wringing her hands. “And even if there're only two more, if we don't get rid of them, there'll soon be twenty. We can't ignore this. Scott? Tell them…”
Several women exchanged knowing glances. Willow McKenna had never been able to stand on her own two feet, even now.
It was Ava Downey—who would have believed it?—who offered a potential solution. “If she's in denial as you suggest, Scott darlin',” Ava said, “why don't we simply do somethin' to make her fantasy world real?”
“What would that be?” Leslie Gilbert asked. She didn't like Ava, whom she saw as being after every woman's husband, and she generally avoided speaking to her. But the circumstances were dire enough that she was willing to put her aversion aside and listen to anything that promised to solve the problem quickly. She had, after all, just that morning tried to start her car only to find that wires in the engine had been chewed up by vermin.
“Let's get rid of the creatures for her,” Ava said. “Two or three or twenty. Let's just get rid of them.”
Billy Hart gulped down what was the last of his ninth beer of the evening and pointed out that no exterminator would take on the job, even if the neighbors paid to have it done, not without Anfisa Telyegin's cooperation. Owen concurred as did Scott and Beau. Didn't Ava remember what the agent from Home Safety Exterminators had told Leslie and Willow?
“Course I remember,” Ava said. “But what I'm suggestin' is that we take on the work ourselves.”
“It's her property,” Scott said.
“She might call in the cops and have us arrested if we go set-tin' traps all around her yard, honey,” Beau Downey added.
“Then we'll have to do it when she's not home.”
“But she'll see the traps,” Willow said. “She'll see the dead rats in them. She'll know—”
“You're misunderstandin' me, darlin',” Ava purred. “I'm not suggestin' we use traps at all.”
Everyone living near 1420 knew everyone else's habits: what time Billy Hart staggered out for the morning paper, for example, or how long Beau Downey revved up the motor of his SUV before he finally blasted off for work each day. This was part of being on friendly terms with one another. So no one felt compelled to remark upon the fact that Willow McKenna could say to the minute exactly when Anfisa Telyegin went to work at the community college each evening and when she returned home.
The plan was simple: After Owen Gilbert obtained the appropriate footwear for them all—no man wanted to traipse through what might be rat-infested ivy in his loafers—they would make their move. Eight Routers—as they called themselves—would form