Fifth Son by Barbara Fradkin Page B

thought the father was a heavy drinker.”
    â€œThat was later. In those days, he was a real holy roller. He used to—” Sandy paused as if weighing the wisdom of revealing such private details, then once again anger seemed to urge him on. “He used to keep all the boys in line with a strap. Most of them toed the line, but Tom fought him every inch of the way. He’d sneak out to the shed to smoke, did marijuana there too, with his gang of loser buddies and all the girls he could get his hands on. The horse carriage came in mighty handy.”
    Green went to his car to retrieve the tin can. Before he could even open the evidence bag, Sandy’s eyes widened in astonishment.
    â€œLawrence’s magic box!”
    Green spread the items out on the hood of his car. Each of them had been bagged individually now to prevent contamination, but the contents were still clear. He picked up the bird skull and asked if Lawrence ever killed small animals.
    â€œOh, no, Lawrence loved birds! He loved to watch them fly overhead. He thought they were angels from God. When he was little, Lawrence thought God sat on those fluffy clouds up there next to Jack in the Beanstalk.” Sandy smiled wistfully at the memory, then picked up the bag with the feather. “He collected bird feathers because he thought they could ward off Satan, and when he got sicker...” His smile faded and his eyes grew sad as he fingered the bottle caps. “He developed strange rituals to drive away Satan.”
    Green’s instincts began to tingle. “What sort of rituals?” The sharpness of his tone must have betrayed him, for Sandy drew back, furrowing his brow. “He wasn’t a violent person, wouldn’t in a million years hurt anyone. He’d only cut himself. He thought the feather could purify him and keep evil away. It sounds...creepy, I know, but it was only a tiny bit of blood.”
    Creepy doesn’t begin to describe it, thought Green, but he kept his expression neutral. Close scrutiny revealed a few flakes of rusty residue on the feather, similar in colour to the smudge on the torn note. Green had assumed the note was simply dirty, but now he grabbed his magnifying glass for a closer look. This time he detected the fine circular traces of a fingerprint in the smudge. Finally, something Ident could sink its teeth into! He looked back at Sandy, pondering the significance of a fingerprint etched in blood on a torn fragment of a note. The first question was—whose blood?
    He slid the note out of view casually. “Did he ever try to purify anyone else? His brothers, for example?”
    â€œI remember he drove his brothers crazy. He prayed over them, confiscated their things. He stole cigarettes and porn magazines the boys had hidden in their rooms. He spied on their girlfriends.”
    All of which could create a powder keg in the household, Green reflected. “Did he himself have a girlfriend?”
    Sandy’s eyebrows shot up and a smile broke his taut features. “Good Lord, no. Lawrence would never know how to handle a real live girl.”
    â€œCould there have been a girl he loved from afar? Or imagined he had a relationship with?”
    â€œIt’s possible, I suppose. But why...?” Sandy’s voice trailed off as his gaze travelled from the tin can to the tangled brush. “The body is Lawrence, isn’t it?”
    â€œPossibly.” Green picked up the evidence bag containing the love letter. “Do you remember a girl named Sophia?”
    Sandy looked sad as he studied the letter. “There was a girl in our grade, who lived in Richmond. Pretty girl with long black hair.”
    â€œLast name?”
    He shrugged. He’d been scrutinizing the letter, turning it over. “I seem to remember she was Tom’s girl, though. I don’t think Lawrence wrote this.”
    Green handed him the scrap of paper with the fingerprint. “This is another