Wednesday, March 10th
Fredericton, Alison Stevens’ home, 8:00 a.m.
Alison Stevens was a pleasant fifty-year-old woman, with blue eyes and blond hair. She lived in an apartment building in Fredericton: her flat was on the first floor, and it was decorated with taste. From the small foyer, you could access a large room that was both a dining and a sitting room. The furniture comprised a square table with four chairs around it and a corner sofa in front of the TV. A door led to a tiny kitchen and another door to a small corridor connecting a bedroom and a bathroom.
She loved her home because she had furnished it to her liking. She considered it as her shelter after a long working day.
She woke up early as usual, and she went to the kitchen to prepare her breakfast. While she was waiting for her coffee, she picked up her phone and she tried once again to call a number. In the last few days, she had called that number many times, but no one had answered. An automatic voice told her immediately that the number was unavailable or that the phone was turned off. Puzzled by the sudden disappearance of the young man, who had been so kind to her, she wondered why he didn’t answer the phone. She had hoped he could help her explain something of her past life and of her family that she had never known.
She tried once more, but she got no answer — she shook her head sadly and she started her breakfast.
***
Rosary, Lewis Notary’s Firm, 9:00 a.m.
Lewis Notary Firm was on the last floor of an elegant three-storey office building in the center of Rosary. The elevator doors opened in the large waiting room: around the walls there were chairs and, in the center, a low table with magazines and newspapers scattered on top. At the far end of the room there was the reception counter. A young woman in her early thirties with long blond hair and dark eyes worked at a large desk. There were two offices at the opposite sides of the corridor. Nolan’s room was the largest: it had been his father’s office until he had retired, a few months before his death, and Nolan had left it almost unchanged. Under the big window there was a massive mahogany desk, behind the desk a big leather armchair, and, in front of the desk, there were two smaller guest chairs. In one corner, there were two small sofas facing each other and, between them, a coffee table. Behind one of the sofas there was a small table with a coffee machine and some mugs on top. The opposite wall was entirely covered by floor-to-ceiling dark wooden bookcases.
A tall man in his early forties was sitting in the big armchair. A woman, more or less the same age as the man, was sitting in front of him. Looking at the two people in the office, you could immediately say that they were related, even if the man had penetrating blue eyes and dark blond hair, and the woman had brown eyes and dark hair.
From the look on their faces and from their demeanor, it was clear that they were not having a pleasant conversation: their expression was somber, and the man was visibly irritated.
“Margaret,” he said in an annoyed tone, “are you telling me that Mr. Porter has gone to another notary? He was one of our most loyal customers!”
Margaret was looking at some papers she was holding in her hands. She looked up from above the glasses she was wearing, and she answered slowly: “Sally has just told me he called yesterday afternoon to say that you have postponed his appointment three times, even if he had expressly told you that it was urgent. Nolan,” she looked into the eyes of the man in front of her, “you know dad was always solicitous about his customers. I have already told you that you can’t put off an appointment just for a round of golf or to go shopping with your wife.”
“Margaret, you know I am not like dad. I don’t like sitting in this office all day long, waiting for rich managers and listening to their problems. And where were you yesterday, when Mr. Jones came and the office was closed?” He added sarcastically.
“You know, Nolan, that I have my yoga lesson every day at four p.m.” After a few moments, she added: “Oh, my God, Nolan. We have to do something to not lose any more customers, otherwise…”
Nolan looked at his sister and shook his head helplessly, then he said: “We could hire a certified notary and let him run the business–” his voice trailed off because he saw the angry scowl on Margaret’s face.
“You know, Nolan, that in our present situation, we can’t afford to hire anybody. We have difficulty paying Sally!”
“Does mum know anything about this situation, Margaret?”
“I think she has perceived something. Yesterday I heard her talking on the phone with one of dad’s oldest clients. Maybe he was telling her about our … our frequent absences, so to speak. When she ended the call, she looked at me as if she was going to say something, but then she turned and went to her bedroom.”
“By the way, Margaret, what’s the matter with mum? Two or three days ago, she couldn’t get out of bed. She was so weak and sick!”
“Yes, I noticed. Last week, the doctor was leaving when I entered. He told me he was worried — oh, maybe she is just getting old. After dad’s death she has never been the same as before, don’t you think?”
Nolan didn’t seem worried when he answered casually: “If we had mum’s money, we could hire a notary and have more free time —”
Margaret looked at him and nodded silently.
***
Rosary, Our Lady Catholic church, 6:00 p.m.
Neil had thought it over the whole day. He had just arrived in the little town, preceded by his renown as a tough policeman, a sniper who had dealt with the worst criminals. Maybe he should wait for a few days, allow the people in the community to know him and trust him. In the end, he decided to go to talk to Father George and let the priest suggest what would be the best way.
Leaving the police station, he made his way to the Catholic church in a peaceful, small square, near the cozy one-storey bungalow he had selected as his residence. Upon reaching the chapel, he ascended the three steps and went inside. Being accustomed to going to the Mass on Sunday, he made the sign of the Cross as he walked in. Spotting a priest emerging from the sacristy, he decided to approach him.
Father George recognized him from the image in the newspapers and on TV.
“Hello! You must be Inspector McKinley! Excuse me, but your courage has made you quite famous, I think.”
Neil smiled even if he didn’t like the notoriety that had accompanied the award ceremony with the Governor.
“Excuse me. You must be Father George.”
The priest looked at him perplexed, and the policeman explained immediately: “Yesterday I was having lunch with Lieutenant Steele and my agents at Anna’s trattoria, and I heard your name.”
Father George invited the inspector into the sacristy, and they both sat down. He was curious to know why the new Chief Inspector came to church, just a few days after his arrival.
Neil went on to explain: “John asked Anna if you had found a new volleyball coach for the children in the orphanage...” Father George was looking at him intently. He knew from the media that Neil was an orphan. The eyes of this courageous man, who was accustomed to risking his life, revealed a profound sense of humanity and kindness. He waited for the agent to go on.
“I think it was said in the newspapers that I grew up in an orphanage in Vancouver. I kept in touch with the nuns and the priest there, and I have always trained the children on the orphanage volleyball team. We had two volleyball teams: one for the children and one for teenagers.” He wondered for a moment if the priest would accept him as a coach for children, knowing nothing about him, except what had been written in the newspapers.
“Mr. McKinley” George started, but Neil interrupted him and said: “Please, just call me Neil!” He smiled at him.
Father George went on: “We surely need a new coach for the children. We have just one team, because Luca had recently started this. There are children from the orphanage and children from our community. It was a way to put the children who don’t have a family in contact with other children, luckier than them.” He stopped, and he quickly added: “I am sorry, Neil. I know I don’t have to explain this to you because you grew up in an orphanage.” Neil just smiled and waited for the priest to go on: “In reality, Luca wanted to encourage the children’s families to invite the little orphans to join them at Christmas or Easter or other family feasts.”
Neil simply commented: “It is a wonderful idea. Christmas and Easter are sad for children in an orphanage, I can assure you.” Father George felt sympathy for this man who had saved the lives of many people and had never felt the warmth of a family.
Neil McKinley added tentatively: “I know that I have just arrived in town and you don’t know me, and also the children’s families have never met me, but…”
Father George interrupted him: “I don’t think there will be any problems, and you have already had experience, so...” He reflected for a moment before adding with a smile: “Why don’t we meet tomorrow afternoon at the orphanage, that is just a couple of blocks from here? I will introduce you to the nuns in charge of the children. And then we are going, if it is alright with you, to organize a first training session one of the next Saturdays. If it doesn’t work or there is a problem, we will talk about it, even if I don’t think there will be any objection.”
Neil stood up and shook the priest’s hand. “Thanks, Father, for your trust. I hope I will be able to do a good job with the children...”
Father George smiled and said: “Thank YOU, Neil, for your help! Luca has left a great void in the community. I need all the contributions I can get, believe me!”
Neil nodded and left the priest, convinced that he had done the right thing. In Vancouver, it had been a great joy for him to be able to help at the orphanage.
***
Rosary, Nolan Lewis’s home, 6:00 p.m.
Robin was at home in his spacious bedroom, where he had everything a child of his age could want: a big soft bed, a desk where he could do his homework, a flat-screen television and a lot of DVDs with his favorite films and shows, a shelf with books and various games. He lived in a part of the beautiful villa, where his grandmother had lived, since she had married his grandfather. The villa was so big that they had been able to divide it into three self-contained apartments: one for Stacey, one for Margaret and one for Nolan, his second wife, Barbara and Robin. They shared the large garden around the house, but each apartment had a separate entrance.
Now Robin was sitting at his desk. After finishing his homework, he indulged in his favorite activity: drawing on his sketchbook. He was very good at drawing, especially landscapes, and his teachers at school encouraged him to follow his inclination. His father had never shown any interest in his life. In reality, Robin spent most of his time with his grandmother, but in the last weeks, she had been frequently unwell, and it was painful for him to see her so weak. That’s why he remained in his bedroom.
While he was drawing, he heard his father in the sitting room talking on the phone. It was a phone call that concerned him, because his dad was talking to Dana, his mum, who was living now in St. John. He missed his mum so much, because she seldom came to take him to St. John or to spend time with him. He instinctively listened to the conversation, or, better, to his father’s part.
“Listen, Dana, you can’t call every week inventing an excuse to avoid spending the weekend with Robin.”
Robin’s father knew he was in his bedroom, and the door was open, but he didn’t care if the child listened. Robin had heard all the discussions between his parents at the time of their separation, a few years before, all the nasty words they had exchanged. Nobody had ever tried to protect him, apart from his grandmother.
His dad listened for a few moments, and then he said in an irritated tone,
“I know you always forget to mark the dates on your calendar–” a few moments of silence and then: “Yes, next weekend you should stay with Robin … ok, you can pick him up on Saturday morning… Yes, you can stay at my mother’s if you want, but you have to ask her. She has not been well in the past few weeks… No, Dana, call her and ask, I won’t do it for you… Ok, but, please, don’t forget this time!” The call ended abruptly, with no kind words or even a simple ‘goodbye’, but Robin was used to it. His parents had started to quarrel when he was five, and they had separated when he was six. He sometimes envied beautiful united families like Mario and Giulia’s. He liked it when they invited him to do their homework together, because their mum always prepared a cake, and she never failed to ask him about his school, about his grandmother. At his home, he was always alone. His father was in his office all day, and then he went to his golf club where he spent most of his free time. His mum lived far away, and she had to be reminded every time she was supposed to spend a weekend or a few days with him. His father’s new wife, Barbara, tried to be kind to him, but he really couldn’t get attached to her, there was something in her he didn’t like, she was so different from his mum. And, he frequently thought, he didn’t need another mother, he just wanted HIS mother to care for him.
After a few minutes, he heard his father’s voice on the phone once again.
“Hi, mum! How are you?” They lived close to his grandmother, but his father seldom spent time with her and preferred to call her than to visit her. Robin couldn’t understand why.
“Yes, mum, I can hear from your voice that you are better.” Robin was happy to hear this. “I wanted to tell you I have just talked to Dana, and that, since Mike is away , she plans to come here next weekend to spend some time with Robin. She would like to stay at your house… Ok, I told her to call you but, you know, she always forgets ... ok, see you tomorrow! Bye, mum!”
He ended the call abruptly, and Robin didn’t have time to ask him if he could speak to his grandmother, but he thought he would go and talk to her when he finished his drawing, so that he could show it to her. She was always so proud of his drawings and of his good marks at school. His father never seemed to notice or to care…
ns216.73.216.80da2
and then Add to home screen.