Chapter 15

One of the I.D. cards showed Smits’s face but a different name: Peter Goodard. The other I.D. showed no picture, just a name: Stanley Goodard. Why was the picture missing? Had the fire prevented Oscar from gluing his picture on — or from taldng Smits’s picture off? Were Oscar and Smits really not Oscar and Smits, but Peter and Stanley? Or were they really Oscar and Smits, planning to go undercover as other people? Why would they want to do that? And whose plan was it? Oscar/Stanley’s or Smits/Peter’s?

Luke felt so overwhelmed that he sank to the floor, neither remembering nor caring that he’d get ash all over his clothes. He stared at the fake I.D.’s in his trembling hands.

“Are you finding everything satisfactorily?” a voice said behind him, from the doorway of the room. It was Mr. Dirk.

Luke scrambled to hide the I.D.’s. He slid his hand toward his pant pocket, forgetting he was still wearing pajamas. And even fancy Baron pajamas lacked pockets in the pants. The only pocket was on the pajama shirt.

Desperately he cupped the I.D.’s in his hand, trying to keep them out of sight

“Mr. Hendricks sent me to check on you because you were taking so long,” Mr. Dirk said.

“Oh — I was just being thorough,” Luke said. “Like you tell us to be on essay tests.”

Mr. Dirk laughed, without any humor.

Would there be any harm in telling Mr. Dirk the secret Luke had just discovered? Luke certainly intended to tell Mr. Hendricks, and Mr. Hendricks trusted Mr. Dirk. Then Luke remembered what Mr. Hendricks had said: “Think very carefully before you tell me anything.” What was Mr. Hendricks so afraid of? Shouldn’t Luke pass the burden of this secret to a trustworthy grown-up as soon as possible?

He wanted to. But something made him keep quiet.

“So, thorough or not — are you almost done? Mr. Hendricks is waiting, you know,” Mr. Dirk said.

“Um, sure,” Luke said.

He turned slowly, trying to slip the I.D. cards up his sleeve as he moved. And because he stayed low to the floor, for the first time he saw what lay under Smits’s bed.

“Oscar’s sledgehammer,” Luke said, and pointed with the hand that wasn’t hiding the I.D. cards.

Mr. Dirk walked into the room, his shoes squishing on the wet, burned carpet He bent down and pulled the sledgehammer out from under the bed. It was near the head of the bed, directly below the pillows that Smits had been lying on the last time Luke had seen him.

“Is that a clue?” Luke asked. “Is it important where we found it?”

“Perhaps,” Mr. Dirk said. “I’m not a forensics expert This is why I like history. With the advantage of hindsight you can almost always tell what’s important.”

Luke tried to remember whether Oscar had been holding the sledgehammer the last time Luke had been in Smits’s room. But Luke hadn’t been paying attention to Oscar then.

“I’ll take it to Mr. Hendricks,” Luke said. “He’ll know what to do with it”.

Grasping the sledgehammer in one hand and holding the I.D.’s inside his pajama sleeve with the other, Luke left Mr. Dirk looking perplexed, standing in the middle of Smits’s ruined room.

Back at Mr. Hendricks’s house, Luke silently laid the sledgehammer and the two I.D.’s on the dining-room table. Mr. Hendricks’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw the I.D.’s, but he quickly swept them from the table and thrust them back at Luke.

“Keep these out of sight,” he said. “Did anyone else see them?”

Luke was relieved that he could shake his head no. Still, he carefully slipped the I.D.’s into the pocket of the pajama shirt

“This is an interesting development indeed,” Mr. Hendricks muttered, seemingly to himself.

“What if this is who Smits and Oscar really are?” Luke asked, tapping the pocket “What if they’ve been lying about their identities all along?”

“Smits is Smits, all right,” Mr. Hendricks said. “I’ve no doubt of that But Oscar could be anyone. That’s why he’s dangerous.”

Luke shook his head, trying to clear it Outside Mr. Hendricks’s windows Luke could see the first tinge of dawn creeping over the horizon. And Luke had had barely five minutes of sleep all night That must be the reason it took so long for Mr. Hendricks’s words to register. When they did, he jumped back in panic.

“Oscar could be anyone?” he repeated. “Do you think he’s from the Population Police?”

“No,” Mr. Hendricks said, “but you might want to act as though he is.”

Luke squinted at Mr. Hendricks in total confusion. Mr. Hendricks sighed and handed Luke a set of keys.

“Smits is in the back bedroom,” he said. “Why don’t you go get him and bring him to me?”

Luke half expected Smits to be asleep, but he sprang out of the room the instant Luke got the door open.

‘Am I safe now? Have you sent that murdering scum off to jail where he belongs?” Smits yelled. Then he slumped against the doorframe as soon as he saw it was only Luke. “Oh, Lee. Hi.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Luke asked.

The younger boy didn’t answer, only followed Luke down the hall. When they reached the dining room and he saw the sledgehammer lying on the table, Smits resumed his hysteria.

“So you found Oscar’s weapon,” Smits raged. “Under the bed, right? He never meant to use that to save me, you know. I’m lucky he never bludgeoned me to death in my sleep.”

“Smits,” Mr. Hendricks said patiently, “how did you know where Oscar hid the sledgehammer, to avoid saving you, if, as you told me before, you were asleep when he supposedly set the fire?”

Smits visibly wilted.

Mr. Hendricks shook his head. “Smits, with as many untruths as you’ve been accused of telling, I’d think you’d be a more accomplished liar by now.”

“That’s my problem,” Smits said sulkily. “I’ve never been a good liar. Haven’t you ever noticed? The people who are good at it never get caught If I could lie well, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Luke wondered exactly what Smits meant by that

“Smits,” Mr Hendricks said gently, “why did you set the fire?”

Smits looked down. “I wanted you to send Oscar away,” he mumbled. Then he peered earnestly at Mr. Hendricks. “Couldn’t you still do that? Couldn’t you tell my parents that he was to blame, and then they’d fire him and he’d go away? And you could tell them that I’m doing really well here, so I don’t need another bodyguard…

‘And what would that accomplish?” Mr. Hendricks asked.

Smits looked from Mr. Hendricks to Luke.

“Then I could act the way I want to act I wouldn’t be… spied on. I could find out…” He broke off and looked back at the floor.

“Find out what?” Mr. Hendricks asked.

But Smits only shook his head. He kept his face down. Luke wondered if he’d started crying.

“Sit down, Smits,” Mr. Hendricks said. “Lee, could you go open Oscar’s door now?”

So Luke took another key and went to another door at the back of the house. Like Smits, Oscar was waiting close to the door. But when Oscar saw Luke, he said nothing, only rushed past him, out to Mr. Hendricks.

“I must call my employers,” Oscar announced. “I demand to be given a phone this instant!”

Mr. Hendricks gave Oscar an amused look

“I believe, as headmaster of this school, that I shall be the one calling the Grants,” he said. “If they ask to speak to you, I shall, of course, let them. Now, sit!”

Oscar sat. Luke hid a smile at the sight of the huge, muscular man obeying the command of an old man in a wheelchair. Oscar could easily have overpowered Mr. Hendricks and grabbed as many phones as he wanted. But Mr. Hendricks had such an aura of control about him, Luke bet that it didn’t even occur to Oscar to disobey.

Mr. Hendricks rolled into his office to use the phone. Oscar, Luke, and Smits sat silently around the diningroom table. After a few moments Oscar reached out and grabbed his sledgehammer. Luke saw Smits flinch beside him. But Oscar didn’t do anything with the hammer, only cradled it in his arms.

Then Mr. Hendricks returned.

“The Grants have been informed now that we had a minor fire at our school, possibly electrical in nature,” he said. He looked directly at Smits. “They want you to come home as soon as possible, until our wiring can be thoroughly checked. For safety’s sake.”

“But—,” Smits protested.

Luke noticed that Oscar looked ready to complain, too, but he kept his mouth shut

“They were adamant,” Mr. Hendricks said. “I don’t believe that anything you might say would change their minds. Now, why don’t you and Oscar go and pack up whatever can be salvaged from your room?”

Astonished, Luke watched Smits and his bodyguard leave. “You trust the two of them alone together?” Luke asked as soon as they were out the door.

“Yes,” Mr. Hendricks said. “As long as Oscar stays awake. And I don’t believe he’ll be sleeping anytime soon.”

The notion of sleep sounded mighty good to Luke. But he still had one more question before he left, too.

“Why didn’t you tell the Grants the truth about how the fire started?” Luke asked.

“In a country as full of lies as ours,” Mr. Hendricks said, “sometimes the truth doesn’t matter as much as what people like the Grants believe.”

Luke frowned, trying to understand. “You’re giving Smits another chance,” he said.

Mr. Hendricks nodded. “You could look at it that way. Though I’m not sure how much of a chance I’ve given him.

I’m sure Oscar will be eager to tell them his version of events. Anyway, as you’re always reminding me, the phone lines aren’t secure. No need to alert any eavesdroppers to problems here.”

Luke shrugged. What Mr. Hendricks said made sense. It occurred to Luke that with Smits and Oscar leaving, all his problems were over. He just couldn’t imagine Smits ever returning, not if his parents found out the truth. Luke wouldn’t even need to worry about the mystery of the fake I.D.’s now. He could have his old life back He and his friends could talk about being shadow children again. They wouldn’t have to pretend for the sake of the spoiled rich kid and the hulking bodyguard in their midst.

Luke felt like a massive burden had just been lifted from his shoulders. He turned to go, certain that, for the first time in more than a month, he’d finally get some good sleep.

“Luke,” Mr. Hendricks said behind him. “The Grants didn’t want just Smits and Oscar to come home.”

“Huh?” Luke said.

“They’re worried about the safety of both their sons.”

Luke whirled around. “You don’t mean—”

“Yes, Luke,” Mr. Hendricks said. “When the chauffeur returns to pick up Smits tomorrow, they want him to bring you home, too.”

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