Part 318 (1/2)

”I was fond of him.”

”You murdered him.”

”I never laid a hand on him. Blackpool got too rough, panicked. I

never wanted to hurt that boy.”

She dragged her wind-tossed hair out of her face. ”You just wanted to

use him, to use him and my father's fear and pain for some b.l.o.o.d.y

publicity. Oh, I can see it,” she added.. ”Brian McAvoy's son stolen

from his crib. Rock star pays a king's ransom for safe return of

beloved child.” That's what you had in mind, didn't you? Lots of print,

lots of film at eleven. Reporters crammed on the front yard waiting for

a statement from the terrified parents. Then more of the same when the

baby was returned to loving arms. But he was never returned, was he?”

”What happened was tragic-”

”Don't talk to me about tragedy.” Tbo anguished to be afraid, she turned

away. The gun was trained on her, she knew it. It didn't seem to

matter. After all these years, she remembered and it left her hollow.

But worse, much worse, was to know it had been for nothing. ”You were

there at his ftineral with the rest of us, your eyes down, your face

solemn. All the while, you were getting just what you wanted. A boy

had to die, unfortunately, but you got your press, didn't you?” She

turned back. ”You sold your b.l.o.o.d.y records.”

”I've devoted nearly half my life to them.” Pete took a long, calming

breath. ”I shaped and I molded, I made deals, listened to their

problems. Solved them. Who do you think made sure they got everything

that was coming to them? Who made certain that the record company

didn't play any games with royalties? Who fought so that they would