“Sir?” the policewoman asked. “Are you sure—”
“Quiet, Linley. The two of you may go.”
The cops hesitated until Williams made a shooing motion with his hand. Then they left, closing the door behind them.
“Hold on,” Carter said. “My father’s disappeared, and you want me to leave the country?”
“Your father is either dead or a fugitive, son,” the inspector said. “Deportation is the kindest option. It’s already been arranged.”
“With whom?” Gramps demanded. “Who authorized this?”
“With...” The inspector got that funny blank look again. “With the proper authorities. Believe me, it’s better than prison.”
Carter looked too devastated to speak, but before I could feel sorry for him, Inspector Williams turned to me. “You, too, miss.”
He might as well have hit me with a sledgehammer.
“You’re deporting me?” I asked. “I live here!”
“You’re an American citizen. And under the circumstances, it’s best for you to return home.”
I just stared at him. I couldn’t remember any home except this flat. My mates at school, my room, everything I knew was here. “Where am I supposed to go?”
“Inspector,” Gran said, her voice trembling. “This isn’t fair. I can’t believe—”
“I’ll give you some time to say good-bye,” the inspector interrupted. Then he frowned as if baffled by his own actions. “I—I must be going.”
This made no sense, and the inspector seemed to realize it, but he walked to the front door anyway. When he opened it, I almost jumped out of my chair, because the man in black, Amos, was standing there. He’d lost his trench coat and hat somewhere, but was still wearing the same pinstripe suit and round glasses. His braided hair glittered with gold beads.
I thought the inspector would say something, or express surprise, but he didn’t even acknowledge Amos. He walked right past him and into the night.
Amos came inside and closed the door. Gran and Gramps stood up.
“You,” Gramps growled. “I should’ve known. If I was younger, I would beat you to a pulp.”
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Faust,” Amos said. He looked at Carter and me as if we were problems to be solved. “It’s time we had a talk.”
Amo
s made himself right at home. He flopped onto the sofa and poured himself tea. He munched on a biscuit, which was quite dangerous, because Gran’s biscuits are horrid.
I thought Gramps’s head would explode. His face went bright red. He came up behind Amos and raised his hand as if he were about to smack him, but Amos kept munching his biscuit.
“Please, sit down,” he told us.
And we all sat. It was the strangest thing—as if we’d been waiting for his order. Even Gramps dropped his hand and moved round the sofa. He sat next to Amos with a disgusted sigh.
Amos sipped his tea and regarded me with some displeasure. That wasn’t fair, I thought. I didn’t look that bad, considering what we’d been through. Then he looked at Carter and grunted.
“Terrible timing,” he muttered. “But there’s no other way. They’ll have to come with me.”
“Excuse me?” I said. “I’m not going anywhere with some strange man with biscuit on his face!”
He did in fact have biscuit crumbs on his face, but he apparently didn’t care, as he didn’t bother to check.
“I’m no stranger, Sadie,” he said. “Don’t you remember?”
It was creepy hearing him talk to me in such a familiar way. I felt I should know him. I looked at Carter, but he seemed just as mystified as I was.