Page 25 of The Instruments of Darkness

“I could have mentioned him. I don’t remember.”

“So you were in touch with Mara Teller both before and after Henry’s birth?”

“Largely before, but yes.” He removed his hands from his pockets and placed them flat on the table. “Are you trying to suggest that Mara might have been responsible for what happened to Henry?”

“I’m just curious about her. Did you mention her to the police after Henry was taken?”

“No, Colleen did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“It didn’t strike me as important at the time. As it happens, it still doesn’t seem relevant. It was an affair. They happen. It seems spurious to attempt to connect it to my son’s disappearance.”

“Did you ever cheat on your wife with anyone else?”

He recoiled as though struck.

“What kind of question is that?” he said.

“A natural one.”

“Well, I don’t care for that word.”

“?‘Cheat’?”

“Yes.”

“Would you care to pick another?”

“Not off the top of my head.”

“Well, then. And you still haven’t answered the question.”

“No, I haven’t been with anyone else during my marriage.”

Strangely, I believed him, but I went on squeezing.

“Only Mara Teller?”

“That’s right, and when the police eventually asked me about her, I told them what I’ve told you.”

“Did they follow up on the information?”

“I don’t know. Is that what you and her lawyer are going to do, try to convince a jury that Mara might have abducted Henry so Colleen will get off?”

He was growing angry. It wasn’t surprising. Being forced to admit to an affair is always humiliating, and Stephen Clark’s unfaithfulness was certain to be made public in the event of a trial, which would add to the indignity. Then there was the fate of his son…

“What if Mara Teller did harm Henry?” I said. “Wouldn’t you want to know?”

“Are you implying that I don’t care about my child?”

I was tired of him now. I’d gotten more out of him than anticipated, but it hadn’t made me feel any better about humanity.

“I think you want someone to be punished for whatever befell him,” I said. “You’ve decided that person should be your wife.”

“I didn’t pull her name out of thin air.” He was close to shouting now. “There’s evidence: a blanket soaked with his blood, found in the trunk of her car, her depression, her whole damn attitude. She was never a fit mother for him.”

I heard a door open and close, and moments later his sister-in-law was standing nearby with her arms folded, the little brown dog circling her legs anxiously.

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