Friend of the Devil by Stephen Lloyd

Author:Stephen Lloyd [Lloyd, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2022-05-10T00:00:00+00:00

20

THE STATUE

The campus cop escorted Harriet back to her room and told her to remain locked within until they sorted out the Paul situation. Harriet assured him that she had no intention of doing otherwise, then barely waited till he was off her floor before heading to the journalism department.

It was not that Paul’s assault hadn’t rattled Harriet. It was just that inaction always amplified her anxiety. That was because her seizures sometimes produced something called Todd’s paresis, which at its most extreme left her completely paralyzed for up to forty-eight hours.

During these episodes, what unnerved her nearly as much as not being able to move were the snatches of sight and sound available to her. The top of a balloon, the squawk of a walkie-talkie, the shadow of a child, the rumble of a gurney, the moan of a patient—these glimpses were maddening in their incompleteness.

She had developed a pressing need to understand what was happening around her at all times. To fill in any blanks. This is what drew her to journalism. It calmed her to dig out a story.

She typed up her copy and dropped it in Mr. Chesterton’s mailbox. She pictured him reading it and spraying a mouthful of Tab all over the offset printing press.

He had begrudgingly allowed her to pursue a story about bullying. She was coming back to him with a tale of steroids and a stolen book, and none of it was substantiated. Paul could have been lying when he said that Dale sold him his steroids. And the stuff about the stolen book was complete hearsay, based as it was on Sam’s account of a conversation Laura had had with Dale. She was braced for Mr. Chesterton to print none of it and she wasn’t sure she’d blame him. Who was that Sam guy, after all, and why should she believe anything he told her? Witches?

She knew the statue Sam was talking about, down by the dock. She’d walked past it many times but had never really looked at it. She stared up at it now. The bit of necklace carved under his cloak did seem out of place. She didn’t think Puritans wore any jewelry (not that she knew much about them). Then again, maybe this was a medal for military service or some symbol of his office. Still—though maybe this was just Sam getting into her head—it had a pagan feel. Runic letters, animal glyphs . . .

And, she realized, she’d seen it before.

“What are you doing?”

Harriet jumped six inches without bending her knees.

Flynn frowned at her. “No boats till Friday.”

“I was just taking a walk,” Harriet said. She smelled the booze on him.

Flynn looked her up and down as though she might be trying to pull a fast one with this “walk” story. Eventually, he grunted and began weaving away.

“You ever looked at this statue?” she asked.

He stopped and turned. “It’s kind of hard to miss.”

“You see that necklace?” She pointed. “I never noticed it before.”

Flynn glanced at it, then looked away quickly as though it pained him.

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