“We really don’t, Tom, but as you know, because you were the first to mention it, there was a blood impression on Christopher’s back, which we presume came from Danny pushing him into his room. It is very likely that Danny simply came to his senses and was able to stop at that point.”

“Or that God intervened,” Anna suggested.

“If He did, He arrived too late for Rachel and Evan,” Sam said, but instantly regretted he had opened his mouth.

“Well, we don’t know,” Thompson continued, “but we do know that Christopher said he went back to sleep afterward, and he was clearly in a state of shock when Tom found him.” Thompson didn’t think it necessary to mention that the eight-year-old likely attempted to rouse his brother and mother, because blood was found on his hands and under his fingernails.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I really do have to get back downtown.” Dave handed his business card to Maryann, Pete, and Sam and promised to be in touch with any other relevant information, and then quickly said his good-byes. After Tom closed the door behind him, he exhaled for the first time in the last hour and relished the cold air on his face.

Then Dave Thompson drove right past the station house, to his own front door, snatched up his little boy, and held him until he squirmed free.

CHAPTER 11

Boots, Shoes, Hands, and Feet

Go out into the darkness,
And put your hand into the hand of God.
—Minnie Louise Haskins,
“God Knows”

ONE FEBRUARY MORNING when Joanna Larson was eleven years old, she went outside to shovel the snow off of her parents’ driveway. Today was her father’s birthday and this was going to be her present to him. She had planned to purchase a pair of shoes, because he’d mentioned that was what he needed, but she was only able to amass three dollars and the shoes cost seven. Technically, they were work boots, not shoes, and, as the year was 1962, boots could be purchased for seven dollars, because a 3 Musketeers bar cost a nickel.

She was frustrated and angry with herself for not being able to buy the boots, because she hated to disappoint him and knew how important they were. Now the only gift she had was the card she had made with a picture of the boots pasted inside, along with the promise they would come in the near future. A few weeks before, when she’d seen the advertisement in the New York Daily News featuring a black-and-white drawing of the boots, she had shown it to her dad and declared she would find a way to purchase them. The advertisement had been placed by the Thom McCan store on Flatbush Avenue and had warned that the sale price was for a limited time only, so the pressure was on.