A Child's Garden of Death Read Free Page A

police officer. Initially a natural bond of interest between intelligence officer and ranger captain; a needed thing in a combat zone. Later, the discovery that they were both Nutmeggers, and finally R and R leave in Japan and Lyon’s introduction, by the captain, into strange and erotic rites with dimpled young Japanese women.
    Chief Rocco Herbert, at one time the youngest chief in the state. Still certainly the largest in physical size. The man’s sheer mass aided his innate gentleness and usually precluded the necessity for him to utilize violent methods. A man who during his Army career wanted to be division food officer, and by order of senior command stayed on as ranger captain, delegated to carry out the most dangerous and necessary missions of the division.
    Rocco Herbert, professional police officer whose greatest desire was election to town clerk—keeper of documents, neat and dusty volumes of deeds and mortgages—an incongruous man in a vault of records. And yet Lyon remembered his last visit to the Chief’s house, a vivid picture of a man holding a small kitten in his hamlike hands, with a Colt Trooper MKV magnum revolver clipped to his belt.
    They had been discharged from service almost simultaneously and their friendship had continued. Rocco, already married and a father, as the returning war hero had been unanimously offered the position of town police chief, a Bronze Star for bravery and his large size seeming to be his greatest assets.
    Lyon had gone to Yale for graduate work, and even then the friendship had continued. It had been Rocco who had read the first draft of Lyon’s thesis on violence in Victorian children’s literature, and it was Rocco who had pointed out in clear fashion new insights that allowed Lyon to finish his work with a firm and unique slant.
    The relationship continued over the years as Lyon taught English and Rocco, in an initial burst of ambition, studied law and criminology. The police chief, with his natural affinity for children and animals, was often the first reader of Lyon’s books, while Lyon would listen to Rocco’s enthusiastic reports of his ongoing education, an enthusiasm that began to wane over the years with the killing drudgery of mundane duties and boredom. Over the years the relationship had changed both of them; perhaps in light of what had happened to their lives, had saved each of them.
    No, Lyon thought, friendship stopped at the brink of immersion into violence and death. No way. He wrenched the car violently into the fast lane of the Interstate and accelerated the sports car to eighty.
    The honking car pulled alongside and broke Lyon’s reverie. The state trooper, his cruiser parallel to Lyon’s car, waved, and Lyon waved back. With whining siren the trooper pulled ahead of the Datsun to make quick movements in and out in front of the small car.
    A glance at the speedometer showed Lyon that both cars were doing over eighty, and it suddenly occurred to him that the trooper’s gestures were not a friendly salutation but an order to pull off the highway. The small car slowed with a drift onto the emergency lane and came to a halt on the shoulder. The police cruiser pulled up a few yards behind him. The trooper, shaking his head, left his car and approached Lyon’s.
    â€œI’ve been following you for a mile, sir. Didn’t you see my lights?”
    â€œNo, officer. I didn’t notice until you pulled alongside.”
    â€œYou were doing over eighty.”
    â€œYes, this thing really moves along, doesn’t it?”
    The trooper shook his head. “Yes, sir. May I see your license and registration? Please take them out of your wallet and hand them to me.”
    â€œI don’t seem to have my wallet with me.”
    â€œThe registration. Look in the glove compartment.”
    â€œNo, I keep it in my wallet also.”
    â€œAre you the owner of this vehicle?”
    â€œYes. My name is Lyon