The Fury - Jason Pinter [99]
sure nobody heard what I had to say.
"So you hid her here," I said.
Bernita chimed in, saying, "Man did pay me."
"I trust Bernita," Clarence said. "Helen wasn't so
sure at first."
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"I didn't--still don't--know who to trust," Helen said.
"I couldn't keep her with me," Clarence said. "I have
clients coming over to my office, and there's no way she
could have stayed upstairs. Besides, who would think
to look here?"
"I would. I did," I said.
"Yeah, well, most people ain't you, Parker." I wasn't
sure whether he meant that as an insult or a compliment.
"We need to talk about Stephen," I said. "Helen, I
need to know what happened. The police have arrested
my father for Stephen's murder. They know he came
into the city to see you. They know you tried to black
mail him. I need to know why. It wasn't for rehab for
Stephen. I need to know what that money was for, and
what happened that night."
Helen Gaines's hand went to Clarence's and held it
tight. He put his arm around her, comforted her as she
began to cry, this time harder. She wailed, her hand
covering her mouth to stifle the sobs.
"Oh...my baby," she said. "My baby is gone..."
"Helen," I said. But all I could do was wait it out. It
hadn't even been a week since Stephen was murdered,
and though Helen Gaines seemed far from mentally
stable, there were some things that pierced the heart no
matter how calloused it had grown.
She cried for several minutes. Clarence held her
head, stroked her hair. His eyes were closed, too, and
on his face I could see the pain of a man whose surro
gate mother was going through hell in every way, shape
and form. Clarence had admitted abusing drugs in his
younger years, but recently had begun to wean himself
off of them. No doubt having a dealer as a father exac
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erbated any curiosity he had. And even though Butch
was a supposedly "clean" dealer, being exposed to that
kind of trade could stir a desire that wouldn't have
existed otherwise. The temptation was there. His father
put it there, and Helen Gaines had become a victim of
it as well.
Maybe Helen and Clarence had actually bonded over
this. Perhaps it was even Helen who, after Butch was
gone, tempted Clarence. But looking at them now,
young man and older woman, they needed each other
more than anything in the world.
"Helen," I said, "I need to know why you got in
touch with my father. After all those years, why did you
suddenly need the money?"
Helen removed her head from Clarence's shoulder.
She wiped her eyes, only succeeding in smearing the
mascara she had on. Clarence took a tissue from his
pocket, handed it to her. She thanked him, cleaned
herself up.
"The money wasn't for me," she said. "It was never
for me. It was for Stephen."
"Rehab?" I asked.
"No. That ship sailed a long time ago. We tried--
both of us, actually. But it's easy to say you want to stop,
it's another thing to do it. It'd be like rewiring your
brain. When you have two people so close, both
addicted, you can either band together and use each
other for strength...or you can slip into the comfort of
nothingness. We chose the latter."
"So you know your son was using, and that he
probably started because of you."
Helen nodded. "I was young and stupid when I came
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here. Do you know what it's like to be nineteen years
old with a baby? To have to leave the only place you've
ever known and go somewhere where you don't know
anybody? To raise a child in a different world? I
couldn't handle it. So I escaped. But Stephen could
have made so much more of himself."
"Stephen wasn't just some street dealer," I said. "He
was much higher."
Helen blinked. "I knew he wasn't standing out on
corners. He had nice suits. Lots of them. He would
wear them during the day, even though I knew where
he was going. I always found it strange that someone
in that...line of work would get dressed up so nicely.
We never had money for anything else."
I thought about the building in midtown. All those
suited young