Sirens Read Online Free Page A

fists could do the job. Thoughhe looked like he hadn’t hit anyone himself in a while—his tailored suit, spats, felt hat, and gold-tipped cane were not fighting gear. No, he had men around him, like the men from the other night, who were not such sharp dressers and who looked like they could break a guy’s arm as if they were snapping a chicken’s neck.
    For a minute or two it sounded like a social call. Pleasant conversation about the weather. Inquiries after the health of Ma and me.
    I’d seen Connor that once at Teddy’s memorial service, about two months after Teddy’s disappearance. Connor had sat in the back at a respectful distance. I’d wondered at it then, why he was there. Later I put two and two together: it was right about that time, more or less, that Pops had started in on the bootlegging.
    But now I heard: “Billy, my boys told you why I’m here.”
    “I know, and I can’t help you.”
    “Have you made a thorough search?”
    “Teddy left nothing behind. Just his clothes. And his medals.”
    “Yes. Of course.” A bee batted lazily against my window screen. “His medals. Your son was a true hero.”
    “Yes.”
    “It is such a shame, not to be able to bury him properly. It’s a shame that you and your family can’t say good-bye.” Someone paced around the room. “You don’t think he might still be alive?”
    My heart thudded.
    “No.” Pops’s voice was flat.
    “From time to time I imagine I see Teddy, here and there. I remember him well. He was such a pleasant young man,” Connor said. The blood pounded in my ears. “Why does someone commit suicide, I wonder? Just up and disappear in such a fashion, only hisclothes left on a beach?” Connor paused. “Well, Billy, here’s the point of it: if Teddy told you anything about his involvement in certain affairs, things he might have been mixed up in, in particular anything that might reflect”—and here he coughed—“reflect on me, I’m sure you would let me know.”
    “Teddy was not himself after he came home,” Pops said, his voice shaking a little.
    Silence, except for a tapping—I imagined Connor’s cane on the floor—and then, “You have not addressed my question.”
    Pops’s voice came out low and rumbling. “Teddy didn’t confide in me.”
    “Who did Teddy confide in, Billy? His sister, perhaps? Didn’t she find his clothing on the beach?”
    The bee parried, feinted, moved on. My mouth was dry as a desert.
    “Josephine was very close to her brother. But he’d never mix her up in anything. Never.”
    “No. Of course he wouldn’t. Not a hero like Teddy.”
    I was so parched I couldn’t swallow, as if I’d tried to drink that salt water while the hook in my mouth reeled me in, steel, gray, sharp.
    “I would appreciate it, Billy, if you could look again for something he might have left behind. And should you find anything, you would inform me at once, wouldn’t you.” It was not a question.
    Pops said something I couldn’t make out.
    “My respects to your family.” I heard the screen door squeak open and shut, heard Connor’s footsteps, heavy and sure, on the wood porch and stairs, heard the slam of a car door and the engine start and the car pull slowly over the gravel and away. Then, silencefor a moment before I heard Pops’s heavy tread as he mounted to the second story and approached my room.
    I scrambled to my chair, grabbing a book and holding it before my face.
    He knocked.
    His face was pale now, that rough anger drained away and replaced by something else. “I’m getting you a ticket for the noon train tomorrow to your uncle’s. Be ready, Josephine.”
    “Pops…” I held the book in my hand like a shield. “Do you need help with anything before I leave? You know, any last calculations?”
    His eyes met mine, and then he shook his head once. “Tomorrow, noon. Be ready.”
    I nodded, and he left.
    Pops might not know it, but Teddy had confided in me, all right—although not anything about