Chapter 4 - THE ROOM BENEATH THE STAIRS
Police allowed me to enter the estate the next morning with an officer.
Vanessa had been ordered to remain at a hotel while the investigation continued.
She had not yet been arrested.
Her attorney called the kennel an unconventional safety measure.
The phrase made me physically ill.
We entered Leo’s bedroom.
The room looked perfect.
Books were arranged by height.
The bed was made with hospital corners.
Framed photographs showed Vanessa smiling beside him.
Nothing looked like fear.
That was the point.
I opened his desk drawers.
Pencils.
Schoolwork.
Old comic books.
The bottom drawer appeared empty.
The officer noticed scratches along the wooden panel.
He lifted it.
Beneath the false bottom were dozens of folded drawings.
I recognized Leo’s style.
Large eyes.
Uneven hands.
Superheroes with bright capes.
But the pictures beneath the drawer were different.
A boy stood inside a dark square.
A woman outside held a key.
The woman smiled.
Sharp teeth filled her mouth.
Another drawing showed me boarding an airplane while Vanessa covered Leo’s mouth.
A third showed the kennel beneath four separate moons.
Four nights.
Four punishments.
One drawing showed a black van outside the house.
The side carried the words HAW THORN.
Inside the van was a boy without a face.
A note had been folded beneath the final picture.
Daddy,
I am trying to be good enough to stay home.
Please do not send me away.
I sat on the bedroom floor.
The officer remained silent.
For almost a year, my son believed I was preparing to abandon him.
I had been sending messages from airports.
Love you, buddy.
Back Friday.
Be good for Vanessa.
That last sentence now sounded like a threat.
We searched the room.
A microphone was hidden inside the smoke detector.
Another sat inside the base of the lamp.
Vanessa could hear every private word.
Every time Leo rehearsed telling me the truth.
Every time he cried.
Every time he spoke to Claire’s photograph.
The closet beneath the main staircase was next.
A new lock had been installed on the outside.
Inside were scratch marks at child height.
A blanket lay in the corner.
A plastic container had been used as a toilet.
The smell remained even after cleaning products.
On the wall, Leo had drawn tiny lines with a pencil.
Groups of five.
I counted fifty-seven.
The officer stopped me before I reached the end.
“You don’t need to count them all right now.”
“Yes.”
“I do.”
There were eighty-three lines.
I did not know whether each represented an hour or a punishment.
Either answer was unbearable.
Inside the wine room, police found a chair with leather straps attached to its arms.
A tablet faced the chair.
Video files had been deleted recently.
Forensic technicians recovered fragments.
One showed Vanessa filming Leo while asking questions.
“Why did you attack me?”
“I didn’t.”
“Try again.”
“I spilled juice.”
“That is not what happened.”
Another clip showed her turning off the light.
“You stay here until your memory improves.”
The final recovered fragment contained the voice of a man.
“Once the behavioral record is complete, the court will transfer the shares.”
I recognized him.
Graham Vale.
May you like
Vanessa’s older brother.
Chief executive of Hawthorne Ridge Residential Academy.
