Chapter 5 – What they should teach at school: Hiding from the police 101

In the end, the day had exhausted Shawn so much that he finally fell asleep on the couch. He had taken great care to lock the door and take out the key, just to make sure that Eric didn't pull yet another disappearing act on him despite everything.

He woke up pretty early for his standards, and the first thing he did was check on Eric. The bedroom door stood slightly ajar, and as he opened it carefully, Shawn found Eric in the middle of the bed, his entire body wrapped up in the blanket, hair poking out at the top, fast asleep. With a smile Shawn silently pulled the door closed again and went into the kitchen to get some coffee going. He figured that Eric wouldn't be too keen to coffee, but milk would have to do. Shawn didn't have any tea or hot chocolate in his cupboards, so he'd have to make do with what he had.

He decided to let Eric sleep in after what he had been through the past two days, and popped two slices of bread into the toaster for breakfast. Just as he wanted to go out and get the paper, there was a knock on the door. With a frown, Shawn turned back towards the bedroom to make sure that the door was closed, then he opened the front door a slight bit.

"Good morning, Shawn."

"Jules! That's…what a surprise to see you here. So early. And so…unannounced."

Juliet's smile faltered a little. "Am I interrupting something?"

Shawn quickly shook his head. "No, of course not. It's just that I only got up a minute ago. My social skills need at least half an hour, a coffee and a shower to boot up."

He flashed her a smile and the look of uncertainty vanished from Juliet's face. "I won't keep you long. I only came over here to bring you a copy of the file. Chief Vick asked you to take a look at it, see if you get anything. We're at a loss, to be honest. Forensics didn't bring forth any useable results, and our canvassing hasn't brought forth any trace of Eric Robertson, either. Well, we found a shelter where they recognised his picture, but he hasn't been there for over a day. So we're hoping you might get something from what's in the file while we investigate Griggs further."

She held the file out to Shawn who took it with a smile. "Thanks Jules. I'll let you know immediately should I get anything new."

Juliet flashed him another smile, then she seemed to remember something. "Oh, and I brought your paper from downstairs. A neighbour was just leaving as I came in, and I saw it sticking out of your mailbox on my way to the stairs."

Shawn took the offered paper. "Thanks Jules. I'll call in later."

Juliet nodded. "Thanks. Bye Shawn."

"Bye."

Juliet turned around, obviously a bit confused by the fact that throughout their conversation Shawn hadn't opened the door more than three inches, then she went down the corridor and took the stairs down. With a sigh of relief, Shawn closed the door and tossed the file and newspaper onto the coffee table.

He started when his eyes suddenly fell on Eric standing in the bedroom doorway, staring at Shawn from wide eyes.

"Good morning", he said after he had collected himself a little.

Eric's eyes were darting from the front door towards Shawn and back again. "Who…who was that?"

Shawn went into the kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee and put the toast onto two plates. "Come here and sit down. Breakfast is ready." Shawn opened the fridge and rummaged around until he located some butter that was still edible, a quart of milk, a jar of jelly and some peanut butter. As he put those on the kitchen table, he noticed that Eric was still standing in the same spot, still staring silently. He sighed.

"Eric, please come over here. I'll explain while you eat."

Hesitantly, Eric came over into the kitchen and sat down on one of the chairs. He reached for the knife and spread some butter on the toast, but still he was eyeing Shawn warily.

Shawn drank some coffee. "All right. I want you to listen to me until the end, all right? I didn't lie to you yesterday when I said I wouldn't call the police. I didn't. The woman who was just here is called Juliet. She's a friend of mine. And she's also a police detective."

The toast stopped halfway towards Eric's mouth, and Shawn could literally read the thoughts about flight in the boy's eyes. He quickly put up two pacifying hands, but something about that movement must have spooked Eric further because he started and shied away from Shawn.

"Whoa, stop. Eric, listen to me. I didn't call Juliet. She came here, unannounced, to give me a file. They want me to work on the case of that murder you witnessed. But I didn't tell her anything about you. I didn't tell her that you are here. I didn't even let her into the apartment so that she wouldn't see you."

Eric was still looking ready to bolt, and Shawn sank back in his chair with a sigh.

"I've helped you so far, and I'm going to help you until all this is over. I know that it's hard because you hardly know me, but you simply have to trust me. Okay?"

Eric shrugged awkwardly, then decided to focus his attention on his toast instead. It wasn't the answer Shawn had wanted to hear, but it was probably all he would get for now.

"All right, here's the plan. I'll pop some more bread into the toaster, you go ahead and have breakfast while I look into the paper, and then we're going to think about what we're going to do. That sound okay?"

Eric nodded. "Okay."

"Good. I'll take a quick shower. Just promise you'll still be here by the time I get out again."

Eric rolled his eyes and nodded. "Promise."

"Good."

Still Shawn hurried with the shower. He wasn't entirely pacified by Eric's promise not to run away. However, when he got out of the bathroom, Eric was still in the kitchen, washing off his plate in the sink.

"Wow, you should drop by more often", he said as he walked back into the kitchen.

Eric just shrugged and stood a little awkwardly right in the middle of the kitchen.

"I forgot to put your clothes in the dryer yesterday, so I'm afraid you're stuck with those shorts and shirt."

"That's all right", Eric said with yet another shrug. Shawn vowed to look up shrugs on the internet. Maybe there was some sort of secret language code he was missing here.

Shawn poured himself another coffee as Eric vanished into the bathroom to wash up. As he sat down at the kitchen table and unfolded the paper, his stomach turned a little. There, on the upper front page, Eric's picture was staring back at him. It was the freeze shot taken from the security camera tape, but a shot that only showed Eric's face and shoulders. The gun in his hand had been conveniently cut out of the picture.

Below the picture, the headline read in bold letters Police search for witness in warehouse murder. Shawn stared at the picture for a moment, then stated to read the article.

In connection with the murder that occurred in a warehouse on Wilson Boulevard two nights ago, the Santa Barbara Police ask the public for help in the search of a material witness. Eric Robertson (see above picture), an eleven year old runaway from Los Angeles, has been seen at the scene of the crime, but so far the police have failed to locate him.

Robertson is sought as material witness to the murder of Franklin Griggs (45), an importer of pottery wares with offices in downtown Santa Barbara. Griggs was shot in one of his warehouses at some point Tuesday night and his body was discovered the following morning.

The police are insistent that they are searching for Robertson as a witness whose statement could be crucial to the investigation of this case. Anybody who has information on the whereabouts of Eric Robertson is asked to contact the Santa Barbara Police Department immediately. The police strongly advice against approaching Robertson directly.

The SBPD has established a phone hotline for information about this case. The number is 280-555-1010.

With a sigh Shawn put down the paper. This was bad. If Eric's picture was on the front page of the Times, it would also be on the front page of the Post. Which meant that nearly every inhabitant of Santa Barbara would see it at some point today, even if it was just while passing a newsstand. Grainy security tape pictures on the top half of the front page had a habit of catching attention.

Shawn wasn't surprised that the police were officially searching for Eric as a material witness. Considering what he had seen on the security tape, surely they were investigating the possibility that Eric had shot Griggs. But they would be pretty stupid to tell that to the papers. The police never did. Telling the media that they were searching for a suspect was only done in case that suspect posed a threat to public security. Otherwise the only result was a witch hunt with everybody trying to bring the suspect down on their own to get a shot at a possible reward. And if the suspect was an eleven year old, it was far easier to bring him down.

But nevertheless, the article hardly left any doubt that the police were searching for Eric urgently. Most probably the hotline was already swamped with nonsense calls and sightings of Eric that were no sightings at all, but that wouldn't hold for long. The people working those hotlines were experienced enough to filter out most of the crank calls immediately. It was up to Shawn now to make sure that nobody saw Eric before he had the chance to figure out who the second man in that warehouse had been. And he needed to make sure that the true shooter had no chance of finding out where Eric was.

Problem was, Eric couldn't stay here. Not for long, anyway.

Shawn was living in a big apartment building. And while the people living here mostly stuck to their own business, you were never sure when the next neighbour might ring the bell because of some thing or other. Especially Mrs. Weinstock from 24a was extremely nosy. No, Shawn needed to get Eric to a place where there were no nosy neighbours. He already had a place in mind, but there were some complications he needed to overcome first.

Shawn put down the paper as his cell phone started to ring.

"Hello?"

"Did you see the paper this morning?"

Shawn leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes Gus, I did. And I don't like it."

"Did you have any success with your wait at the office yesterday?"

"Not really. Well, not at the office."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The doubt was obvious in Gus' voice.

"He didn't come to the office, but when I came home he was waiting in front of my apartment."

"How'd he find out where you live?"

"Phone book, Gus. My apartment is not exactly Area 51."

Gus was silent for a moment, and Shawn could practically see him trying to overcome his frustration at Shawn.

"And what now?"

"How about you meet me at my Dad's in half an hour?"

There was another moment of silence, longer this time.

"Your Dad's? Shawn, are you nuts?"

"Listen Gus, I can't leave Eric alone, but there's a lot of stuff I need to go and figure out. Besides, nobody is going to search for him at my Dad's place. I'll tell you everything that happened, but I'd rather not do it on the phone."

Gus sighed deeply. "All right, I meet you there. I wouldn't want to miss this for the world."

"See you later."

But Gus had already hung up. Shawn put down the phone only to find that Eric had come back from the bathroom already. He should have paid better attention, because now he no longer could prevent the boy from seeing the paper's headline. Eric had gone pale and his blue eyes were wide as he stared down at his own face on the front page of the newspaper.

"The police…they've published my picture?"

Shawn nodded. "Yes. Which is why we can't stay here, Eric."

The wide eyes turned towards Shawn. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Calm down. I promised I'd help you, and that hasn't changed. But here there's just too many people around here, the danger that somebody might accidentally see you is too big. Especially now, that all people are looking for you. And I need to find out who that second man in the warehouse was, but for that I need to make sure that you're somewhere safe."

"And where is that supposed to be?"

Shawn sighed. "My Dad's house."

A frown settled on Eric's face. "Doesn't sound as if you think that it's the best place for me to stay."

Shawn shook his head. "It's not that. I know you'll be safe with my Dad. It's just that first I need to explain everything to him, and that might not be too easy."

"I can stay here, it's no problem. You can just leave me here, I promise I won't go out."

Shawn shook his head again. "No chance, kid. You've pulled the disappearing act on me one too many times. Besides, with the police looking out for you I won't leave you alone. Period. My Dad might seem a little grumpy at first, but once he understands what's at stake here he'll watch out for you." He didn't tell Eric about the murderer who by now must have gotten to know that his deed had been witnessed by an eleven year old boy. If Eric didn't figure it out on his own, Shawn wouldn't worry him about it. He only needed to make his Dad listen, once his father understood the stakes he'd agree to watch out for Eric, that Shawn was sure of.

He got up from his chair. "All right, go and grab your clothes, we'll put them in the washer and dryer at my Dad's place."

He searched the drawers in the kitchen until he found a plastic bag for the clothes, and five minutes later they were ready to go. Before he opened the door, Shawn handed a baseball cap to Eric.

"Put that on. I parked Gus' car directly in front of the house, but at this time of day we might very well run into somebody. Just keep your head down and don't look at anybody."

"Okay." Eric put on the cap.

Shawn grabbed his keys and the file Juliet had brought over earlier, then he opened the apartment door. Hurriedly, he steered Eric along the corridor and down the stairs. Just as they were passing the mailboxes, the front door opened and an elderly lady stepped into the hallway. Shawn suppressed a groan and put a hand on Eric's neck to gently remind the boy about keeping his head down.

Shawn tried to steer Eric past the old lady as quickly as possible, but she was having none of it.

"Good morning, Mr. Spencer."

"Good morning, Mrs. Weinstock. Sorry, I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Oh, of course. And where are you and your young visitor going to at such an early hour? The weather should hold up for another few hours. Are you going to the zoo? Or the park? And who is that young man, anyway? You never told me you had a son."

Shawn smiled at her, though he was sure it looked more like a pained grimace. "I really have no time to chat, Mrs. Weinstock. The next time, maybe. Have a nice day."

And with an arm around Eric's shoulder he brushed past the old lady and out onto the street. Quickly, he unlocked the car and hustled the boy into the passenger seat.

The drive to Henry's house was a silent affair. Eric stared out of the window, and Shawn was too lost in thought to make conversation. When they finally pulled up in front of Henry's house, Shawn was a little relieved to find that his father's truck was not there. Probably he was out shopping or something, that would give Shawn some time to prepare himself for the explanations that he'd have to make.

They got out of the car and stepped up onto the porch.

"Seems like nobody is home", Eric remarked.

"My Dad won't be gone for long. But let's get in before somebody sees us."

Shawn was glad that his father had finally, after long weeks of discussion, relented and given Shawn a spare key to the house. It had taken a lot of pointing out the most horrible emergencies which might just end deadly if Shawn didn't have said key for Henry to relent, though Shawn assumed that in the end he had merely given in to stop Shawn from pestering him.

He quickly unlocked the door, ushered Eric into the house and led him into the kitchen.

"Can I get you anything?"

Eric shook his head. "No, thanks. What do we do now?"

"We wait. My friend Gus will be here soon." Seeing Eric's slightly panicked expression, Shawn hurried to calm the boy again. "I told you that Gus is all right. You don't need to worry about him, and I need his help in finding out who that second guy in the warehouse was. Then we wait for my Dad, explain everything to him, and then I'll go and try to find the other guy, I guess."

It sounded a lot less calming and convincing now that he said it out loud, but basically that was all Shawn could do. Somehow, he'd also need to convince the police that there had been a second man in the warehouse that night, to get them searching on the right track.

Shawn went to the fridge and pulled out two sodas when there was the sound of a car pulling up outside. It didn't sound like his father's truck so he gestured for Eric to stay put and went over to peer out of the front door.

It was a cab that had pulled up in front of the house, and after a moment Gus got out of the car and walked over towards the front door. Shawn opened it before his friend even had the chance to knock and ushered him in.

"Where is Eric?", Gus said without a word of greeting.

"In the kitchen. Come along."

Shawn led Gus through the living room and into the kitchen, where Eric was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at Gus with the expression of a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching truck.

"Eric, this is my friend Gus. I told you about him. Gus, this is Eric."

"Hey", Gus said, his voice friendly.

Eric was still staring up at Gus with a worried expression on his face. "Hi", he mumbled.

"Can I talk to you for a second?", Gus asked Shawn, and without waiting for an answer pulled him out of the kitchen by the sleeve of his shirt.

"What's wrong?", Shawn hissed as they reached the living room and he freed himself from Gus' grasp.

"What's wrong? I wanted to ask you that. Could it be that you haven't really thought this through? Shawn, half the city is searching for Eric. It's not only in the papers, local news have been flashing his picture every half hour since this morning. You'll be in deep shit if this ever comes out, and by the looks of it, this won't be easy to be kept a secret."

"But it needs to be kept a secret, Gus. He didn't shoot that guy, and he is in danger."

"Then let the police protect him. If he didn't shoot that man, all the better."

Shawn shook his head. "I don't know if they'd believe him, Gus. Juliet came by this morning, she said that forensics from the crime scene didn't bring any new information for the investigation. So there's no reason for them to believe Eric. They'll think he's trying to talk himself out of it."

Gus drew a deep breath. "So what does he say happened? Why was he even there?"

"He was searching for a place to sleep, nothing else. There was a second man in the warehouse, that was who Griggs was arguing with. And that was who shot Griggs."

Gus frowned. "Then why did he pick up the gun?"

"Because he was in shock? Gus, he's an eleven year old who just witnessed a murder. I don't think you can judge his behaviour logically. And that's not what really worries me."

"What is?"

"Well, since the police's news flash this morning, our murderer knows that Eric was in the warehouse that night. He'll be hell-bent on getting to him before the police do."

"Damn." Gus ran a hand over his head. "But still I'd feel better about it if you called somebody. You don't need to tell the Chief, but at least let Juliet know about it. They're wasting time and resources searching for Eric, they could focus that on other parts of the investigation. Besides, I don't really want to know what kind of trouble you'll get into for hiding a fugitive of justice!"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Come on Gus, don't you think you're exaggerating…"

"Who is hiding a fugitive?", another voice cut in. Startled, both Shawn and Gus spun around to see Henry standing in the doorway, brown grocery bag in one hand and closing the door with the other. It seemed he had only caught the tail end of their conversation, but that just had to be the part where Gus was pulling out the verbal big guns. The look on Henry's face could have frozen boiling water.

Shawn forced a smile. "Dad! Good morning to you! Come on, let me take that bag, with your back you shouldn't be carrying anything heavy."

Henry barely managed to keep Shawn from taking the bag out of his hand.

"Shawn! What was that Gus said about hiding a fugitive? What in blazes have you gotten yourself into now?"

"Dad, Gus was only joking. Me, hiding a fugitive of justice, come on. You know me."

Henry frowned. "Yes, I do. So what is going on here? And if I don't get an answer soon, preferably the truth, I'm going to call Karen and ask her what Gus could have been talking about."

Shawn sighed. "All right. But please, listen to the whole story first. I take it you haven't read the paper or watched the news this morning?"

Henry shook his head, but then his eyes focussed on something behind Shawn's shoulder. "Who's this?", he asked, and when he turned, Shawn found that Eric was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching the three men from wide eyes.

Shawn quickly made a few steps over towards the boy. "Dad, this is Eric. Eric, this is my father, Henry Spencer."

The frown on Henry's face turned into a look of recognition. "That's the kid you told me about, right?"

Eric turned towards Shawn. "You told him about me, too? Is there anybody you didn't tell about me?"

"Yes, the police for example. And now why don't we all go into the kitchen, sit down, and give me a chance to explain this?"

Henry grunted something that counted for an agreement, then he went into the kitchen and got some coffee going. "All right, I'm listening. Explain."

As Henry started to unpack his groceries, Shawn explained. All the while, he was keeping a sharp eye on Eric. Since Gus and Henry had arrived, the boy looked as if he was only waiting for an opportunity to bolt. Obviously, it was a bit too much to deal with for him right now.

Shawn told the entire story, but without explicitly mentioning that the police were treating Eric as a suspect now. He was sure that his father understood the true intention behind the police's media release, and he thought that if Eric worried just a bit more, he'd have a seizure or something.

When Shawn had finished, Henry leaned back in his chair and just stared at his son. After a moment, Shawn started to feel uncomfortable under that gaze. "What is it?"

Henry got up. "Come with me, Shawn."

Leaving Shawn no chance but to comply, Henry went out the kitchen and into the living room. He closed the door behind them, then crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Are you raving mad, Shawn? Were you drunk yesterday? I honestly hope you were, then at least you might get off with a plea of temporary insanity!"

"Dad, you don't understand…"

"Oh I understand all right. I understand that you're hiding a material witness in a murder case. What I don't understand, what I really, for the life of me can't understand, is why!"

"Dad, I believe Eric."

Henry rolled his eyes. "So?"

"If another man shot Griggs, he now knows that Eric is a witness. He'll try to find him."

"Yes, I know that Shawn. All the more reason to get Eric to the police as fast as possible."

Shawn shook his head. "He's dead scared of going to the police, Dad. He'll run. Besides, the police have absolutely no evidence that would make them believe Eric. The other man isn't on the tape, they'll think he's just making that up to save his own skin."

Henry ran a hand through his short hair with a sigh. "Shawn, you do realise the kind of trouble you'll get into for this. What is your plan? That I'm going to baby-sit the boy while you go out and search for the mysterious shooter?" Seeing the look in his son's eyes, he shook his head. "No. No, Shawn. I'm serious. I won't do it. What about the boy's parents? They have to be worried sick about him, and the police surely will have notified them that he's been sighted in Santa Barbara. If you don't want to call the police, call his parents."

Shawn shook his head. "No. He's just as scared of his parents than he's of the police. I don't know what's going on there, but calling his parents would be just as bad as calling the police."

Henry sighed in frustration. "Shawn, I don't know what game you're playing here, but I'm telling you you're wrong. If this is about you having sympathies for a fellow runaway, I can only tell you to stop it. This boy is in deep trouble, you're not helping him any with what you're doing."

"This isn't about me!"

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Oh no? Because it damn sure looks like it. You think you're a lot more closely involved than you actually are, Shawn. That boy in there did what you tried to do twenty years ago, only that he succeeded. And now you're trying to be the understanding buddy figure you were hoping to find somewhere along the way when you ran away. Only you never got as far as leaving town!"

"No!", Shawn yelled with a ferocity of which he didn't even know where it came from. Henry started, taken aback. "You still don't understand it one bit, Dad. This is not about me thinking Eric is like I was back then. When I mentioned his parents to him, Eric looked ready and willing to do anything to stop me from calling them. He wasn't just scared, he was terrified.

I ran away because I was angry. Angry at you, but not for grounding me. I was angry because you were constantly trying to push me into being somebody I didn't want to be. I thought you didn't really care about who I was. That's why I ran away. Because no matter what I did, all you ever were was disappointed in me. No matter what I did, it just never was good enough for you. And most probably running away was stupid, and it didn't change really much between us, either. But the big difference between Eric and me is that no matter what happened, no matter what trouble I got myself into or which of your expectations in me I disappointed yet again, I was never, not once in my entire life, afraid of you. Angry at you, furious, disappointed, yes. But never once afraid. Eric is afraid of his parents, and that worries me. Because I think it takes a damn good reason for a child to be afraid of their parents. If you don't want to help me, say it. But I won't bring Eric to the police, and I won't call his parents. Not until I've figured out what is going on."

Henry sighed and started pacing the room. "And how do you want to do that?"

"I don't know. But I could really need your help in this. I'll ask Eric to try and remember as many details about that second man as possible. Then I'll try to get the police on his trail somehow. But while I'm doing that, I need to know that somebody is taking care of Eric, somebody who watches that he doesn't take off again."

Henry was still pacing, and Shawn silently watched him for a few moments. Finally, Henry stopped and looked up at his son. "Who knows that you've even been in contact with Eric?"

"Gus and you. Nobody else. And nobody else knows that Eric is with me right now."

Henry brought a hand up and rubbed his neck. "All right. Go ahead and talk to him, see what you can figure out about that shooter. But I'll tell you one thing: if that isn't enough to find the guy, I won't let you run around chasing shadows while I watch the kid. Then we're going to involve the police, whether you like it or not."

Shawn nodded. "All right. That's enough for me."

"Good. Then let's see what Eric has to tell."

They went back into the kitchen where they found Gus and Eric still sitting at the table. Gus was talking animatedly about something completely insignificant, and from the look on Eric's face it was obvious that he wasn't listening to a word Gus was saying. Shawn guessed that Gus had only started talking to stop Eric from listening to their shouting from the living room.

When they came into the room, Gus stopped talking and both he and Eric looked up at the two Spencer men. Gus raised both eyebrows, silently asking for the results of their conversation. Shawn pulled out the chair next to Eric and sat down.

"Okay Eric, I know that you'd prefer not to think about it, but I need you to tell me everything you remember about what happened in that warehouse. Everything, no matter how insignificant. We need to find that second man, and for that we need as much information as you can give us."

Eric nodded, though with a lot of hesitation. "Okay."

But it was obvious that he wasn't comfortable with the situation, not at all.

"You can trust Gus and my Dad just as much as you can trust me. We're all trying to help you."

Eric nodded again, but he was only looking at Shawn, not at Gus sitting next to him, or at Henry, who was rummaging around in the kitchen cupboards. But Shawn was all right with that.

"Okay. You didn't go to the shelter that night because somebody had told you about the warehouses. Who was that?"

Eric shrugged. "Another kid. I never knew his name. I met him at the shelter the night before. We got talking, 'cause he was only a little older than me. He told me about the warehouses."

"Good. And you decided not to go back to the shelter after two nights there. Where did you go after you left my office that night?"

Eric drew breath to answer, but was interrupted when Henry wordlessly put down a cup of hot chocolate in front of him. "Thanks", he all but whispered.

"That's all right. You just focus on Shawn's questions", Henry said and sat down in the chair next to Gus.

Eric picked up the mug with both hands as if to warm his hands and stared down in the brown liquid as he spoke. "I went east. The kid had told me what warehouses to look for. I got lost at first, but then I found the street. Wilson Boulevard. There were so many buildings, and nobody was around. And most buildings didn't have cameras. So I just started checking doors of those buildings that didn't have cameras outside. And when one of the doors opened, I got in." He shrugged a little helplessly and took a sip of the hot chocolate. "There was a stack of crates in a corner on the left, and a camera above the door. I…well, I waited until the camera was pointed in the other direction, then I ran behind the crates and tried to find a good sleeping space."

"How long were you in the warehouse until that other man arrived?"
Eric shrugged again. "I don't know. Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. I had just lain down and tried to get comfortable. Then I heard the door open and steps come into the room."

Shawn got up, hurried over to his father's desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. Sitting back down, he quickly drew a rough schematic of the warehouse.

"Right, so here's the door, the camera, and over here are the crates. Where were you?"

Eric took the pencil and drew an X behind the crates.

"Good. And where did that first man who came into the warehouse go to? You must have heard where his steps came from."

Eric thought for a moment, then he drew another X against one of the walls. "Here. I was afraid because the steps were coming towards me, but then they stopped before he came around the crates."

The point Eric had marked was roughly in the same direction in which the person Griggs had argued with had stood on the surveillance tape. And given the rotation of the camera, that spot had been chosen deliberately, because it was a blind spot.

"Good Eric. You're doing great. Now what happened next?"

"Nothing, for a few minutes. I was too scared to move, or look, so I just lay there and hope that he didn't find me. And then the door opened again. I don't know how much time passed, exactly."

"What happened?"

"Somebody else came into the warehouse. A man. He was walking quicker than the first one, and I think he was looking for the other man."

"Why do you think that?"

Eric shrugged. "He immediately asked "where are you?" when he came in." Eric nervously started to knead his hands. "The other guy answered, and then he walked closer to where that first guy was standing. Then they started yelling at each other."

"What did they say?"

Eric shook his head. "I can't remember."

"Eric, it's important. I need to know what they said", Shawn pressed.

"I can't remember! I wasn't listening, I was too scared! They yelled, and then that first guy shot the second guy, and that's all I know!"

"That's not true, Eric. You told me something more yesterday, I know that there's something else you remember."

"I don't remember anything!", Eric yelled and pushed his chair back from the table. The movement was too jerky and forceful, and the still nearly full mug of hot chocolate tumbled and fell over, spilling hot cocoa all over the tabletop and Eric's shirt. Eric's eyes widened and he immediately flinched further back, his arms raised to the side of his head and cowering away in the chair.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…sorry", he mumbled, completely distraught, and with a worried frown Shawn got up from his chair. He caught a glimpse at his father as he got up, and he noticed that Henry, too, was watching Eric with an expression of worry on his face. Slowly, Shawn crouched down in front of Eric.

"Eric, please look at me."

Slowly, Eric lowered his arms and looked at Shawn.

"Sorry", he mumbled again.

"Did you burn yourself?", Shawn asked with a worried look at the stain of hot chocolate on Eric's shirt.

"What?"

"Did the hot chocolate burn you?"

"No." Eric shook his head, confusion evident in his voice. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right. Those things happen, no damage done. Main thing is you didn't hurt yourself."
Eric's breathing was still coming in small, rapid gasps and he finally locked his eyes on Shawn.

"I really don't remember anything. Please." A tear ran down Eric's cheek and embarrassed, he wiped it away.
Gently, Shawn put his hands on Eric's shoulders. "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Trust me on this, Eric. Just close your eyes."

Eric did, albeit with some hesitation. Shawn was looking only at Eric, that's why he missed the look of surprise and astonishment Henry shared with Gus at Shawn's words.

"Now I want you to think back on what happened. You're hiding in that warehouse, behind the crates. It's pretty dark, but some light is coming in from the street. The second man comes in and starts asking the first one where he is. They start talking, and I know you heard every word they said. Just think, Eric. I know it's hard, but I also know you can do it."

Eric drew a couple of deep breaths, and he kept his eyes screwed tightly shut. "The guy who came in last asked the first what the meaning of all this was. And that he had better things to do than come here in the middle of the night. The first guy answered that he had not gotten his money. They started yelling at each other about it. I really didn't understand it all. The guy who was shot said he wouldn't pay any more, and the other guy said he'd better do it, otherwise he'd call in the police." Eric hesitated. "Well, he didn't say that exactly."

Shawn frowned. "Then what did he say? Not "I'll call the cops"?"

Eric shook his head. "No, the one who got shot answered "you of all people won't call the cops". But the first one said something strange. Like…numbers. I don't know." He frowned again, thinking hard. "Something like "if you don't pay, I'll call in a four eight six, and I told you what that means." I don't know if the number's right. I really don't. But…that other guy understood what he was talking about, because he was getting really angry. And he yelled that he wouldn't play along anymore, no matter what the first guy said, and that there was absolutely no proof again him. He said if the other guy didn't stop asking for money, he'd rat out on him. Then the other guy…he shot him." Eric swallowed hard and opened his eyes. "That's really all I remember. I only looked when the guy who shot had left already. I never saw him. And I really didn't understand most of what they were talking about. Only that the guy who shot wanted money, and the other one didn't want to pay."
Shawn smiled and squeezed Eric's shoulder. "You did great, Eric."

He got up from his crouch and turned back towards his father and Gus. Gus was still sitting on his chair, watching Shawn and Eric, but Henry wasn't sitting next to him anymore. Shawn noticed that his father had obviously started to clean up the hot chocolate that had spilled onto the table, but he hadn't finished. Now he was standing there with the file Shawn had brought in his hands, flipping through it.

"Dad? What are you looking for?"

Henry raised a finger at Shawn, scanning the page in front of him for a moment. Then he turned towards Eric. "Could it be that he said four nine six?"

Eric shrugged. "I guess. I'm sure about the four. And…well, pretty sure about the six. Because it seemed so strange to hear those numbers. But I don't know. It could be, I guess."

"Shawn, I need to talk to you."

Henry turned around and left the kitchen, leaving Shawn no choice but to follow. "I'll be back in a moment."

"All right." Gus nodded and got up to finish cleaning up the table.

When Shawn came into the living room, his father was pacing again. Shawn closed the door with a frown.

"What is it, Dad?"

"That guy who was killed? Franklin Griggs? He had a rap sheet. I just checked."

Shawn shrugged. "A lot of people do. What did he get busted for?"

"Handling stolen goods. Did two years for it, in 2001."

"Well, business as an importer of pottery goods might be a cover up for that. You think it's connected? And what is the business about those numbers?"

Henry sighed and resumed his pacing. "Well, Eric isn't sure he remembers them correctly. So it might be nothing at all. But normally, people don't just use numbers in conversations. Nobody would understand them. But sometimes, that habit develops out of a job." He stopped his pacing and looked at Shawn. And finally, Shawn understood.

"Cops. Cops talk in that kind of code speak all the time."

Henry nodded. "Yes."

"I don't know any three digit codes", Shawn admitted. "I always thought it was those "10-4"-things cops used."

"496 is a penal code."

Shawn frowned. "For what crime?"

"Possession of stolen property."

Shawn shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. "You think the shooter is a cop?"