A Measure of Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

is, for all intents and purposes, an orphan. But I have an idea.”
    Was he going to bring the boy home? She got a quick stab of excitement and fear. And then she understood. Not them. The Morrises.
    â€œLook. I want to try Arthur and Jan again.”
    â€œOh, won’t that be hard to pull off?”
    â€œI’ll have to do an end run. Do you have a phone number for them?”
    â€œYes, but Richard, they’re in France. Let me think. Yes. Jan said she’d get back right before auditions, so I think that means they get back tomorrow.”
    â€œGet me the phone number. I’ll make the first move now.”
    â€œI’m out in the yard,” she said, “but I’m going in. This will take a sec. Only you should know Jan told me she and Arthur have given up on children. She said right before they went to France that she appreciates how rich their lives are, able to go to Europe, and all their time to themselves. They don’t want to open up all that longing again.”
    Marina found her sheet of information. Janet Gabriel, Professor. Robert Arthur Morris, SO. Address. Email. Office number, home number. And the mobile listed below it. “Whether their cell works in France or not, I can’t say.” She gave the number.
    â€œCall you later.”
    She worried about him. He got these ideas. It was as if he were a theatre director casting a play. Arranging lives. Looking for just the right chemistry, the right matches.
    And she worried selfishly if Jan Gabriel would blame her for this no-doubt-false hope, another heartbreak come her way.

2.
    WHEN JANET GABRIEL’S CELL PHONE RANG, it was ten at night in France, but still Sunday, and she was sitting with her husband, Arthur, on the terrace of the house they had rented. Their luggage was packed for the next morning’s flight; this, their last evening, was something delicious—peace, food, wine, the sounds of creatures getting ready for the night.
    She had to look for the phone and only just managed to find it.
    When Christie identified himself, Janet walked back to where her husband was sitting. She couldn’t imagine why the detective whom they knew, but not intimately, would call her in France.
    â€œLook. This isn’t for sure,” he began. “I know you’ve given up and all that, but—”
    Janet almost laughed then. “Richard. Please. No. Is it those four kids again?” She couldn’t do it and she knew that—never even met the four kids he’d wanted to put with them two years ago.
    â€œHow about one?” His voice was serious.
    â€œOh. One of the four?” She looked at Arthur who was mouthing, “What? Who?”
    Christie went on. “Here’s the situation. Child Services will be involved tomorrow and they’ll be looking for a foster home for this kid, Matthew. It’s a new case. Matthew Brown. You’re still officially registered as foster parents, right?”
    Jan looked at her husband’s worried face. She clicked the little megaphone that switched on the speakerphone. “Yes,” she said.
    â€œWell this is a kid—almost eight. His mother’s been murdered. She was a single mother. I don’t have to tell you he’s going to do better with something familiar around him. His mother lived on Morrowfield—that’s only, what, seven blocks from the two of you. He went to school at Minadeo. He has friends in the neighborhood. This could work out for him… . He’s a handsome boy, and smart. Apparently has a nervous streak—I haven’t seen it yet. He’s in deep grief. He badly needs parents. He needs a strong mother and father. Will you meet him? If I can finagle the thing—which I hope I can.”
    Arthur looked stunned.
    Jan thought: a beautiful boy, smart, almost eight. She had always wondered if something would happen when they were old, even older than this. Something. Some event. Just like