‘Well… I don’t know, but he seemed to believe they were real. ‘
‘But you never saw any? Night after night, and no boats?’
‘No, we never saw any. I don’t know why he thought they would land here. The shoreline of Lake Huron is hundreds of miles long, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is. Did he think these people were illegal aliens? Escaped convicts?’
‘I don’t know, but he thought some might be Jewish refugees.’
‘Jewish?’
‘Yes. He’s Jewish, too, and he cares about refugees.’
‘If they were refugees, what were they fleeing from?’
‘I don’t know. Discrimination, I guess.’
Wes paused. He recalled his brief encounter with the parents. He tried again.
‘Why did he think they might be Jewish?’
‘Well, he mentioned a name, Karp, I think it was, and he spoke of an electric fence in Michigan, or maybe it was Chicago. I forget.’
‘ An electric fence?’
Adam felt tired of these repetitions. ‘Yes,’ he agreed wearily, ‘that’s what he said.’
‘Some sort of concentration camp, then, in, let’s say, Michigan?’ His disbelief was palpable.
‘Maybe. I don’t know.’ Adam flushed. What was all this for? It’s not as though they had done anything criminal.
‘Can I go now?’
Mr. Oakley ignored the question. ‘Adam, did Benjamin ever touch you?’
‘Touch me? Like how?’ His eyes widened; he looked from one of the men to the other. Both were watching him. Instinctively, he moved his hands slowly from his lap to the armrests of his chair. A horror unimaginable had begun to grip him by the throat, one he could neither explain nor understand. These men seemed to think his friend a monster.
‘He—no, no. He never did anything… like that!’
Oakley persisted. ‘ Did he ever—‘
Ti-Guy interrupted, putting a restraining arm on his boss’s shoulder.
‘Adam, how did he come to hear of these… landings?’
Adam had visibly relaxed, the pressure eased. ‘On the radio.’
‘Recently?’
‘Yes. That’s what he said. On the news. He told me what I already told you.’
‘Do you think it was a local broadcast?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘O.K. I think we can let you go now, if that’s alright with you, Mr. Oakley?’
‘Yes, yes, of course. Thank you for all your help, Adam.’ Wes signaled assent with a nod, and a quick glance at Ti-Guy, who followed the lad out of the office. Left alone, Wes Oakley leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands behind his head, and tried not to look defeated. He should not have raised the subject of abuse with such a sensitive child, but he knew the police, had they been called, would have done so. He sighed. Perhaps he should have been an accountant like his brother, after all.
Lost in thought, he did not notice Ti-Guy’s re-appearance at his side. Peltier spread a map of the Great Lakes on the desk, and pointed a stubby finger at the Illinois Waterway.
‘I think we’ve all been had,’ he said, ‘all of us, but especially young Cohen.’ He smiled.
‘Had? How so?’
