Finding Davey Read Online Free

cap in hand, wallets bulging.
    He smiled reassuringly. “You have him now, Pop. You’re already a complete family. Your own apartment here. You can attend the boy’s psychiatric conversion at every stage.”
    “Those I paid for,” Pop said bluntly, unmoved by Doctor’s litany. “Give me a time frame.”
    “A few weeks. Then the domiciliary phase.”
    “Taking how long?”
    “Five months to Clint’s final phase. We call it re-entry. Clint will be your son. His mind will know no other parents, remember no other life. He’ll attend a school of your choosing. That’s the only true test.”
    Pop went for his nagging doubt. “Except for memory.”
    “Something troubling you, Pop? Spit it out.”
    “How much of his previous life will Clint really remember?”
    Sadly Doctor shook his head at such lack of faith. “Clint will remember only what I let him remember. His language, of course. But American English, not English English. His past I shall delete. The process has already begun. You, Pop and Mom, will create the boy as surely as if Mom delivered him in the obstetric unit.”
    Pop had a gesture of his own, the aggressive pointing finger.
    “Will the boy be normal?”
    Doctor felt intimidated for only an instant, quickly recovering behind his shield of expertise.
    “One hundred per cent.”
    Doctor sounded a truly dedicated professional in the service of suffering humanity, far above sordid greed as he said with dignity, “Certainly.”
    This client had had assurances from other experts, andwould not let go.
    “Do you ever fail?”
    Seriouser and seriouser! Doctor felt nothing but contempt for these rich inadequates. They made him laugh – in the privacy of his own secluded apartment, of course.
    Having committed the ultimate federal crime – buying a stolen child – they wanted guarantees plastered on the label. How on earth did these people become millionaires?
    “Never. Look, Pop, 350,000 children are abducted annually from legitimate marriages! My clinic is a drop in that ocean. I provide wholesome children, ready to take up a decent moral life with wealthy families. It’s that simple.”
    “I’d have thought a girl would have been easier.”
    Doctor smiled at the lamebrain. “Mom asked for a boy. You paid for a boy. I get you a boy!” Sensing trouble, he went for generalities. “Girls are more facile and can be programmed into a new life right up to the age of ten. Boys are more trouble. We can tune them into a new existence before eight, maximum. A few prove recalcitrant, sure, need extra handling. But I never fail.”
    “There are grades?”
    With dispassion Doctor appraised Pop.
    The client was a man who, like himself, dealt in absolutes. The one benefit of Doctor’s business was its immunity from law. (Slight correction: from litigation.) Nobody could sue him or his clinic. Wariness however always paid when some rich fat-gutted oaf like this one quibbled.
    Doctor composed his features into humility. Galling, to play the serf to such a man, but financial transactions must be smooth.
    “Yes, Pop,” he said comfortably, registering real pleasure at the other’s sudden alarm. “Everything isn’t always plainsailing. Every child is different.”
    Doctor knew he had got round the awkwardness, for now. Marvellous what fear did to these rich contemptibles.
    “Case complexity is my problem, Pop, not yours. I always win in the end. And you are the beneficiary of a complete, ready-made son!”
    “Thank you.”
    Humility now? Doctor felt his lip curl in disdain.
    “The boy is hundred per cent yours for ever.”
    He injected a twinkle into his eyes. Nurses had loved it, during his hell year as intern.
    “Ours!” Pop now spoke with wonder. “Our son!”
    Doctor was disgusted to see tears fill the client’s eyes. He felt his power. This was how God felt on a good day.
    With an endless supply of children, he was omnipotent. He’d proved his invincibility scores of times. Nothing could stop