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Chapter 4
The Interview
    I ’d just finished kicking the last of my dirty clothes under the bed when I heard a knock at the door. An officer with a round head and big arms was standing in the hall. The badge on his chest said “Officer Cummings.” His partner was a brown-haired woman with a pretty smile. Her name was Officer Philips. She asked if they could come in. I said yes and then had to answer a bunch of questions about what happened. I sat on my bed the whole time and pretty much told them everything. Officer Cummings sat at my desk and wrote it all down in a notepad.
    â€œIsn’t it a little late to be exercising?” he said when I finished.
    â€œSunlight gives me hives,” I explained, “so I do everything at night.”
    I looked at him when I said this. I wanted to make sure that he believed me, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Nurse Ophelia, who had arrived from down the hall and was now standing in the doorway.
    â€œIs everything all right here?” she asked.
    I thought for just a second that Officer Cummings’s eyes were going to roll out of his head and onto the floor, but then he got it together and half stood. His face was a little pink. “Yes. Fine, ma’am. I was just asking a few, um . . .”
    â€œPlease sit down,” she insisted.
    â€œIsn’t it a little unusual for a boy to be up at this time of night?”
    â€œZachary keeps a unique schedule. It’s necessary. He requires very specialized medical attention. It’s one of the reasons he’s here and not in a foster home. Do you have any other questions for him? I’d like to get him his dinner. And he needs some rest.”
    â€œOf course. Just a few more.” He sat back down and clicked his pen a few times. Then he cleared his throat. “This guy—did he say anything to you? Did he threaten you?”
    â€œNot really,” I said. “He only said what I told you already. That I should run. And that someone was after me.” I almost added that he’d told me to avoid the police, but I didn’t want to offend anybody.
    Officer Cummings smiled. “You don’t need to worry about anything. There’ll be a car here twenty-four hours a day until we catch him.”
    I tried to look impressed, but the truth was, the old man had been shot so many times he should have looked like a cheese grater, and it had barely slowed him down. Unless they dropped a building on his head, they weren’t ever going to stop him. I wasn’t worried about him, anyway. He’d come to warn me. I wanted to know why.
    â€œWas he armed?” Officer Cummings asked me. “Did he have a knife or a gun or anything?”
    I shook my head. “Just a top hat.”
    â€œDid he offer you anything? Drugs, anything like that?”
    â€œNo.” I said. “Well, he did offer me a ride.”
    â€œAnd it was just you and the other fellow who saw him? What’s his name . . . ?” Officer Cummings leafed back through his pad. “Jacob?”
    â€œYeah. By the end, other people were in the hall too, but it wasmostly just Jacob and me. I doubt he heard very much. He was pretty far away. And he had his hands over his ears.”
    â€œIs there anything else you can think of that might help us catch this guy?”
    I glanced up at Officer Philips, who was leaning against the wall, then at Nurse Ophelia, who was still in the doorway. She moved her head just a little, like a mini nod, so I knew it was all right to answer.
    â€œHe smelled like he’d been drinking,” I said.
    â€œNo doubt,” said Officer Cummings. He flipped his pad closed. “Well, that does it for now. If we need anything else, we’ll be in touch.” He rose, tipped his head in a goodbye sort of way, then stepped out to wait in the hall.
    Officer Philips lingered for a few seconds longer. “Are you going to be all