Free The First Rule Of Survival by Paul Mendelson Page B

sent the text. I have only met the author once.’
    ‘The publisher knows about your past?’
    Ledham spins around to him.
    ‘No. I . . . I have no contact with anyone. I live here alone and mind my own business.’
    De Vries thinks about it; there is something repulsive about the thought of Ledham enchanting his innocent children. He looks back at the man, drained and slumping now, his head lowered.
    ‘That seems reasonable.’
    Ledham takes a deep breath.
    Above the long desk which runs down the entire side of the room,Vaughn sees giant versions of the lead characters: Davey, Pie, Salsa and Squash. On the desk itself, sketches and unfinished designs.
    ‘There’s a new one?’
    ‘If I am allowed my peace, yes.’
    ‘Doesn’t everyone do this on computer nowadays? You don’t use a computer?’
    ‘No. All my pictures are hand-drawn, hand-coloured, as you can see.’
    De Vries looks again at the pictures, and then at Ledham. He wonders how such a man’s mind works: to create pictures that delight children; to defile and humiliate and abuse them.
    ‘Thank you,’ Vaughn tells him, ‘for eventually cooperating. I hope that we won’t disturb you again.’
    Ledham opens his mouth, but shuts it again. He gestures them out of his studio, along the corridor to his front door. They leave and he closes it on them, standing silently, waiting to hear the car start up and drive away.
    *   *   *
    De Vries finds a new guard on duty at the entrance, but he is not a supervisor. He salutes de Vries and opens the gate.
    When they are back on the main road, de Vries asks: ‘What did he have in his collection?’
    ‘Just teen stuff, hardcore, but seemed legal. He had not unwrapped all of what he bought on Tuesday. It was still in a brown paper bag, with the receipt inside. Date and time shown. Fits.’
    ‘Not nice.’
    ‘I would not want my children looking at his pictures.’
    ‘Mine already did. I always liked those books.’
    ‘You would not like them so much if you saw what he really thinks about young girls, and what they should be doing to each other.’
    ‘My kids love his work; they don’t know the man.’
    Don contemplates what he means. He says: ‘I am sorry, sir, that those two leads were a waste of our time.’
    ‘Had to be done. When Ledham started lying I wondered what we had. Problem for me was, the moment we entered his place, it didn’t feel right. He didn’t look right. Can you imagine him shooting anyone; lifting them into a skip?’
    ‘What was bothering you then?’
    ‘He lied to me. Twice. If he’s lying, then he’s hiding stuff, and I instinctively want to know what. I knew that he didn’t stop for “snacks” at that mini-mart. That was lame. You find out what it really was, and his evasion makes sense.’
    ‘You said twice?’
    ‘Oh yeah. When I asked him about a computer, each time he denied it, but the guy definitely has one, or uses one. Probably just Internet stuff, might be relatively innocent. I’ll go back sometime and find out.’
    ‘How do you do that?’
    ‘What? Catch them at it? There are so many clues: eyes, hands, saliva – a break in their voice.’
    ‘So, when we get this guy, you will know.’
    De Vries turns to Don. ‘When I meet him? Instantly.’
    Robert Ledham waits half an hour and passes through the walk-in closet to another door which leads into his garage. He takes the ladder from its place on the wall and leans it against a narrow beam on the ceiling. He climbs slowly, opens a trapdoor above him and clambers up into the roofspace. Stooping until he reaches the central part of the space, beneath the highest point in the roof, he moves to a trestle table supporting a laptop and a colour laser printer. He boots it up, enters multiple passwords and logs onto a forum. Then, he begins to type.
    When Don February reaches his desk back at headquarters he sees four Post-it notes tacked to the side of his computer monitor. One is from his wife, three are from an