Read Online The Dark Stairs R/I by Betsy Byars - Free Book Online

name.”
    There was a pause so long that Herculeah wondered if the tape recorder had stopped on its own. She leaned down and checked. The reel was still turning.
    â€œMy father’s name is—was Hamilton Crewell.”
    Meat said, “The Moloch is the old man’s son.”
    Again Herculeah put her finger to her lips.
    There was a silence on the tape as well as in the room. Herculeah heard her mother say, “Your father is Hamilton Crewell? I wasn’t aware he had a son.”
    Perhaps the Moloch nodded. There was no sound on the tape.
    â€œWhen was the last time you saw your father?”
    â€œIt was ten years ago.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œIn the house. I went there to ...” another pause, “see him. I had wanted to go for a long time, but I couldn’t get, let us say, out.”
    â€œOut?” repeated Herculeah.
    â€œPrison.” Meat breathed the word.
    Herculeah heard her mother say, “If you are Hamilton Crewell’s son, then I would think you stand to inherit a great deal of money.” At the same time she heard what sounded like a voice-over. “And just what do you think you’re doing?”
    This second question did not come from the recorder. It came from the doorway.
    Herculeah and Meat looked up. Mrs. Jones was in the door to the hall. She repeated her question, “And just what do you think you’re doing?”
    Herculeah tried to think of an answer while the tape recorder continued playing. “That’s not why I’m here,” said the Moloch.
    â€œWhy haven’t you come forward before this?”
    â€œLet us say, I couldn’t.”
    â€œWhy not?”
    Silence.
    â€œWhat did you mean when you said you couldn’t get out?”
    In the doorway, Herculeah’s mother was holding a rolled sheaf of papers in one hand, a briefcase in the other. She dropped both as she moved quickly over to the desk.
    â€œHave you ever heard of the Bromwell Asylum for the Criminally Insane?”
    Herculeah’s mother snapped off the recorder before it could play her response. The only sound now was her furious breathing.
    â€œGo home, Meat,” she said at last.
    â€œMe?”
    â€œHow many people named Meat are there in this house? In this world?”
    Herculeah’s mother was so mad she was hissing through her teeth now, and a light spray of spit landed on Meat’s chin. He did not dare wipe it off because that might offend her and make her even angrier.
    He got up clumsily and moved back out of the line of fire. “I was just getting ready to go anyway. But I felt I needed to hear this.” He pointed to the hidden recorder. He put one hand to his chin in a thoughtful gesture and wiped off the spit.
    â€œMrs. Jones,” he continued, “the Moloch may be a danger to me. He has seen me several times, and I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help but overhear the words ‘criminally insane.’ I need to know if the Moloch has any criminally insane plans toward me.”
    â€œYou don’t need to hear anything-not on my tape recorder, you don’t. This is extremely confidential material.”
    Mrs. Jones swirled to point her finger in Herculeah’s face. “And you know that, even if Meat doesn’t.”
    Herculeah looked down at the desktop.
    Meat cleared his throat. “Well, I’m on my way.”
    There was a silence as Meat crossed the room. He paused as he passed Mrs. Jones’s spilled papers to see if he could see anything. He paused again in the hall to see if he could hear anything.
    All he heard was Mrs. Jones saying, “Good-bye, Meat,” in such a sharp way that there was only one thing for Meat to do. He left.

11
    A TERRIBLE CURIOSITY
    When the front door had closed behind him, Herculeah’s mother said, “What is the explanation for this?”
    Herculeah sighed.
    â€œI want the truth.”
    â€œWell, yesterday ...”