Free Child Thief by Dan Smith Page B

themselves.
    At Dimitri’s side I looked up at the hanged man, at peace on the end of a rope. I considered cutting him down, taking him to the cemetery and putting him in the ground – the stranger deserved some dignity at least – but I chose not to. The man’s body had another purpose now: to act as a reminder to the people who had done this. I knew as well as anyone that people are capable of terrible things but must recognise the things they have done. Without that recognition, they are nothing more than animals, empty of any feeling.
    â€˜Shame on you,’ I said. My voice was hoarse and my words were quiet. ‘Shame on you, Dimitri Spektor. Shame on your family. Shame on this whole damn village.’
    Dimitri continued to stare up at the hanged man.
    â€˜Is this what you wanted?’ I asked him. ‘Is it?’
    Dimitri opened his mouth, but whatever words he intended to say were caught in his throat. They stuck there and refused to come out.
    â€˜Does this make our children safe?’ I asked him.
    He stared as if no thought could pass through his mind, then he blinked, shook himself and refocused. ‘I didn’t do this.’
    â€˜You were part of it. You led it. You caused it.’
    â€˜Don’t be so damn self-righteous. I didn’t want this. I—’
    â€˜What did you want? What did you think was going to happen? You knew what you were doing, Dimitri; don’t pretend this was an accident.’

    He swallowed hard. ‘What now?’
    â€˜Now? Now you have to live with it.’
    I left Dimitri standing alone and went back to my family. Viktor and Petro were at the window, their faces at the glass as I approached.
    When I went into the house, Viktor was still holding the revolver. Lara was clinging to Natalia.
    â€˜What the hell is happening to them?’ I said.
    â€˜People are afraid of what’s coming,’ she told me. ‘And who can blame them?’
    â€˜It’s no excuse.’
    Natalia looked down at our daughter, but Lara showed no sign of understanding.
    â€˜Close the shutters,’ I told my sons. ‘I don’t want Lara to see what Uncle Dimitri has done.’
    â€˜But … all those people,’ Petro said. ‘How could they do that?’ He was even paler than usual. His brow creased so tight in bewilderment that the bridge of his nose wrinkled. He looked as if he’d woken in the night and forgotten where he was.
    â€˜I don’t want to talk about it,’ I said.
    â€˜To do that to another man. They just—’
    â€˜Not now.’
    â€˜But, Papa …’
    â€˜I said I don’t want to talk about it.’
    â€˜Shouldn’t we cut him down or something?’
    â€˜Petro!’ I turned on him. ‘I don’t want to hear about it.’
    â€˜He’s only asking,’ Natalia said. ‘He’s—’
    I slammed my fist hard on the table and raised my voice so it filled the small room. ‘Don’t talk about it. I don’t want to hear it. Don’t talk about it any more.’
    Natalia pulled Lara closer, placing her arms so they covered the child’s ears.
    â€˜Please.’ I lowered my voice. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ I held up a hand and bowed my head. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I looked back at my wife, I nodded anapology before glancing at my children, each in turn. Then I went to the door. I hesitated, took hold of the old iron handle and pulled it open.
    I stepped out into the cold and glanced at the hanged man as I yanked the door shut. I let my gaze linger on the body for a moment, then I turned and headed round the back of the house.
    Entering the barn, the chickens complained at my intrusion but soon settled. The ones which had ventured out from the coop scurried back inside to the warmth.
    I went to the pile of belongings from the man’s sled and took up a milking stool to sit down