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The Gate House :: Demille Nelson
Страница: 485 из 490A photographer was taking pictures of the blood and of Anthony’s chalk outline on the carpet.
We packed a few items in overnight bags and went back downstairs.
I was surprised to see FBI Special Agent Felix Mancuso waiting for us in the foyer, and it was an awkward moment. He first inquired of Susan how she was doing, and she replied, “I’m all right.”
He got right to the point and said, “Well, I feel as though I’d misled you regarding Anthony Bellarosa’s whereabouts and his intentions.” He added, “I never believed he’d do this himself.”
I replied, “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Mancuso. We all made some educated guesses, and some of them were wrong.” I added, “We appreciate what you did, and your personal interest in this matter.”
“That’s very kind of you.” But I could see that he was still vexed, and he admitted, “I wasn’t understanding Anthony Bellarosa… I didn’t understand how driven he was by hate… and by this ancient concept of blood for blood.” He added, “We don’t see much of that anymore in our nice, civilized society, but I’m seeing it in my new job.”
I could have told Felix Mancuso that the veneer of civilization was, indeed, very thin, but he knew that, and yet, like all of us, he was constantly surprised when the old Beast reared its ugly head. I said to him, “We’re staying at Susan’s club tonight, and we’re exhausted.”
“Understandably so. Let me walk you out.”
We walked out to the forecourt. The night was clear and balmy, and there were a million stars overhead.
Mr. Mancuso said to Susan, “I hear from Detective Jones that you were very smart and very brave.”
Susan, forgetting or ignoring what I told her about justifiable homicide, replied, “I was very stupid. He wasn’t going to kill us. He said that about six times. This was not blood for blood. He wanted to humiliate us and to make our lives hell.” She took a deep breath and said to him, but really to me, “I could have just let him rape me, and it would have been over. But I risked my life, and John’s life, to kill him.”
That, as Mr. Mancuso and I both knew, was an incriminating statement, but he liked us and he felt some responsibility for what had happened, so he said, “I’m sure you did believe that your life was in danger, Mrs. Sutter, and you did the right thing by shooting him.”
Susan, still wanting to get this off her chest, said, “If he’d wanted to kill me for what I did to his father, I would understand that… an eye for an eye… but… he wanted to kill our souls, and I could not allow that.”
Mr.
We packed a few items in overnight bags and went back downstairs.
I was surprised to see FBI Special Agent Felix Mancuso waiting for us in the foyer, and it was an awkward moment. He first inquired of Susan how she was doing, and she replied, “I’m all right.”
He got right to the point and said, “Well, I feel as though I’d misled you regarding Anthony Bellarosa’s whereabouts and his intentions.” He added, “I never believed he’d do this himself.”
I replied, “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Mancuso. We all made some educated guesses, and some of them were wrong.” I added, “We appreciate what you did, and your personal interest in this matter.”
“That’s very kind of you.” But I could see that he was still vexed, and he admitted, “I wasn’t understanding Anthony Bellarosa… I didn’t understand how driven he was by hate… and by this ancient concept of blood for blood.” He added, “We don’t see much of that anymore in our nice, civilized society, but I’m seeing it in my new job.”
I could have told Felix Mancuso that the veneer of civilization was, indeed, very thin, but he knew that, and yet, like all of us, he was constantly surprised when the old Beast reared its ugly head. I said to him, “We’re staying at Susan’s club tonight, and we’re exhausted.”
“Understandably so. Let me walk you out.”
We walked out to the forecourt. The night was clear and balmy, and there were a million stars overhead.
Mr. Mancuso said to Susan, “I hear from Detective Jones that you were very smart and very brave.”
Susan, forgetting or ignoring what I told her about justifiable homicide, replied, “I was very stupid. He wasn’t going to kill us. He said that about six times. This was not blood for blood. He wanted to humiliate us and to make our lives hell.” She took a deep breath and said to him, but really to me, “I could have just let him rape me, and it would have been over. But I risked my life, and John’s life, to kill him.”
That, as Mr. Mancuso and I both knew, was an incriminating statement, but he liked us and he felt some responsibility for what had happened, so he said, “I’m sure you did believe that your life was in danger, Mrs. Sutter, and you did the right thing by shooting him.”
Susan, still wanting to get this off her chest, said, “If he’d wanted to kill me for what I did to his father, I would understand that… an eye for an eye… but… he wanted to kill our souls, and I could not allow that.”
Mr.