The Rag and Bone Shop by Robert Cormier Page A

matched or clashed with his narrative. That was why Trent finished the interrogations in such exhaustion, of both mind and body, all his senses concentrating on the subject, absorbing, accumulating details and nuances, impressions.
    And now to move into a new phase of questioning.
    “How were you feeling Monday?”
    “How was I feeling?” Surprised, puzzled.
    “Yes. Were you happy or sad or upset about something?”
    Again, Jason felt disquiet and unease, like something was wrong.
    “These are funny questions,” he said. “About how I was feeling, I mean. Did the way I was feeling affect what I saw and did that day?”
    A red light beamed in Trent’s mind. The boy was only deceptively docile and naive. He would have to proceed more carefully.
    “Well, if you were worried about something, for instance, it might provide a distraction. So that you wouldn’t be as sharp with your observations.”
    “I see,” the boy said. “But no, I wasn’t upset. In fact, I was kind of happy, I guess you’d call it. I mean, school was over. No more classes, no more homework. Yeah, I guess I was happy. Would that be a distraction?”
    “Maybe. We’ll see.”
    The boy looked doubtful again.
    “Now, let’s go over it once more. At first, you said you saw nobody that afternoon. We’ve narrowed down the time of possible observations as the afternoon, after lunch, two periods of time, actually. Prior to the time you spent with Alicia and afterward. The period when you were on your way to her house and the period when you were on your way home. The first period—who did you see, whom did you meet?”
    Jason had become aware of how hot the office had gotten, a gathering of heat that seemed to grow in intensity as the questioning went on. He was also aware of how close to him Mr. Trent sat, their knees almost touching. Also, had Mr. Trent suddenly grown taller? He seemed taller now than when Jason had first entered the room, seemed to loom over him. Besides all this, Jason was filled with a sense of failure. He had not seen anyone suspicious.
    “Like I told you before, I didn’t see anyone suspicious.”
    “But, Jason, we don’t know yet what a suspicious person would look like. I’m not talking about some stranger lurking at the mouth of an alley. We’ve established that you don’t remember seeing anyone like that. But what I’m looking for is something of a dubious nature. For instance, take a druggist. Someone familiar you’ve done business with in his store, a pharmacy. He’s not suspicious in himself. But suppose you saw him out of context from the pharmacy.”
    Seeing the puzzlement on the boy’s face, he explained. “Let’s say that you saw him outside the drugstore at a time when he should be in the store. Say you saw him suddenly hurrying through the park. Then a man who was not himself suspicious would suddenly become a questionable figure because of where he was at the moment, or what he was doing at that particular moment. That’s what I am searching for.
    “So, tell me whom you saw that afternoon on the way to Alicia’s house.”
    Jason felt more confident now. He would tell Mr. Trent exactly what he saw and let him decide whether there was anything suspicious about it.
    “Well, I saw a mailman. I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen him a lot. He doesn’t deliver the mail on our street but to stores and business places on Main Street. He was delivering mail as usual.”
    “Where did you see him?”
    “Going into the building between the real estate office and the place next door with all the copy machines and printing stuff. He was carrying a bunch of letters and envelopes.”
    “Not out of context, then?” Testing to be sure that the boy had perceived the meaning of
context.
    “Right. Just where you’d expect him to be, doing what you’d expect him to be doing.”
    “Excellent,” Trent said.
    And Jason smiled with satisfaction. For once, he had provided the right answer, even though he knew