Eyes of the Innocent

by Christopher Wright

  Chapter 10

  The voice sounded far away. It was definitely a woman. He tried to open his eyes, but the light hurt. He kept them closed.

  The voice spoke again. "Just try and relax."

  "I'm in Central Park," he heard himself say.

  Yes, of course he was. He was by the Pond. Baby Jack was with him, and he had to get back to the hotel in time for breakfast. So why was he lying down?

  "I think you've had an accident."

  Terrorists! They were here in Central Park! "Is Zoé all right?" A sudden moment of panic. "Where's Jack? Where's baby Jack?"

  "You're hurt. An ambulance and the police are on their way."

  A young woman in a bright blue jogging suit and yellow running shoes stood hesitantly by his side. "I'm Vicky. I've phoned the dispatcher on my cell," she said quietly. "I hope I did the right thing. I know a bit about first aid. Don't even try and sit up until the ambulance arrives. But you can rest your head on this," she said, unzipping her jogging top. Fortunately she was wearing something underneath.

  "Be careful," he said as Vicky lifted his head slightly. "The back of my head feels really sore. I think I'd been mugged." He felt the sling that was open on his front. A moment of panic and he tried to sit up, but Vicky pushed him back gently. "Have you got the baby? Have you got Jack?"

  Vicky shook her head. "There's no baby," she said quietly.

  The sound of approaching sirens hurt his head. "Jack," he said. "Where's Jack?"

  Strange thoughts swam around in his head. He was still in the hotel and he'd fallen out of bed. He was crossing the street and been knocked down. He closed his eyes and tried to make sense of the pain and the empty sling.

  He opened his eyes suddenly when a voice spoke in his ear. "The police need to speak to you. Just as soon as you're ready."

  The woman appeared to be dressed as a paramedic, and she didn't sound friendly. She pulled each eye open in turn and shone a bright light into them while feeling his pulse. "We know who you are. I'd better warn you, Mr. Rider, your wife is here, and she's frantic. She wants to know what you've done with the baby. I've checked your eyes. You've only suffered temporary concussion. It's time to speak to the police."

  Before he had time to answer, Matt became aware of two men in dark blue uniform.

  "Mr. Rider? Mr. Matthew Rider?"

  "Call me Matt. What's happened?" He managed to get his eyes fully open, and the light made the pain in the back of his head feel worse. This was like getting the third degree. "Can you turn the light down a bit? I don't know what's happened, but I can't cope with the pain and the light."

  "That's the sky, Mr. Rider. We can't do anything about that and we need answers. Quickly." The larger of the two officers seemed to be in charge as he bent over.

  Matt realized that the formal form of address meant trouble. "I don't know what's happened. I know where I am and my head is hurting. Have I been in an accident?"

  "That's why we're here." The smaller officer had now come forward, so there were two of them bending over him, and their faces were much too close.

  "You'd better ask my wife," he said, finding the combination of the daylight and speaking painful. "She's called Zoé, and the paramedic said she's here. All I know is that I'm in New York, and someone's got our baby. Is it the terrorists?"

  "Nothing to do with terrorists, sir." The larger officer raised his voice beyond Matt's pain threshold. "Your wife is nearly hysterical and says you've harmed her baby. Maybe even killed it. We're keeping her in the ambulance till she calms down."

  That really woke him up. "It's not her baby, it's our baby. We're both his parents. Is baby Jack dead?"

  "That's the reason we're here," the smaller cop said.

  "So who killed him? How?"

  "Mrs. Rider thinks you did."

  "If baby Jack is dead, then..." No, he wouldn't mention Zoé's postnatal depression. If she'd harmed Jack, he wasn't going to tell them anything more.

  Big cop sounded a little more mellow. "We're not saying Mrs. Rider's baby is dead. Not yet. We're here to find out exactly what happened."

  "Well you're not going to find out anything from me. I don't remember a thing." He paused for a moment. "Yes, I think I was..."

  "Yes?"

  "Ducks. Swimming in the lake. Pond. Whatever. I'd taken little Jack..."

  "Yes?"

  "Taken him for a walk before going to the clinic. To see the ducks. Swimming."

  "And then you drowned him. Is that what you're saying?" Big Cop had turned nasty again.

  "Drowned him?"

  "Mr. Rider, if you took the baby swimming, we'll find him. We're checking this part of the Pond. We know the little kid was seriously ill and not likely to live without surgery. So I guess you thought you'd bring his little life to a quick end out there in the Pond."

  "I didn't take him swimming. The ducks were swimming, not me." He closed his eyes again. The only way out of this nightmare was to pretend to go back to sleep. He felt one of the officers poke him, but managed to stay completely still.

  He heard Big Cop call the paramedic. The next voice he heard was Zoé. "Matt, what have you done?" She was shaking him fiercely. "Where is Jack?"

  "Zoé, what one earth's happening? You don't really think I drowned baby Jack, do you?"

  "I do not know what to think, Matt. You go off with Jack, and I thought I would follow and catch up with you on your way here."

  "You shouldn't have been out on your own."

  "I did not know whether to come over here or not. A young man from the hotel saw me standing in the lobby. We spoke for a moment, and he said he was going jogging in Central Park. He said he would get me safely across to the Park and help me find you. He said it might not be safe for me to be on my own. And now I am worried to sickness."

  Matt had his eyes wide open now. The light no longer hurt. "Go on."

  "I see you lying on the ground with a young woman in a jogging outfit looking down at you. Almost immediately these two police officers arrive in a car with lights flashing, and then the ambulance. They say the runner called it in."

  "She's called Vicky."

  Zoé seemed to ignore that bit of information. "I ask where Jack is. They say you had no one with you, but you had the open sling for baby Jack on your chest. So, Matt, where is Jack? You must tell me. Now."

  "Look at me, Zoé. Do you really think I would have harmed our baby?"

  "No, I cannot believe you would have done such a terrible thing, but it is what these two police officers think."

  Matt pointed to the two men. "All I can remember is taking Jack for a walk to see the Pond. There's no way I would have hurt him, Zoé. You have to trust me."

  "The officers have already been talking to me. I told them I had nothing to do with it, as I was still on my way when it happened. If I am to trust you, Matt, then you must trust me. Do you?"

  "Of course I do." He found he could sit up, and sitting up made him feel a bit better. "Do they think you hit me over the head and drowned the baby?" he said to Zoé. "Maybe they think I drowned the baby. Or perhaps we did it together. They're all crazy. Tell them we need to start looking for Jack. It doesn't sound as though the police are planning to do anything except ask stupid questions."

  Zoé turned to the paramedic who was listening to their conversation. "I am a nurse," Zoé said firmly. "You have tested the eyes of my husband, and his reactions they are perfect. I can give him all the medical help he needs. If you take him away we may never be able to find our baby."

  The paramedic asked Matt if he felt sick, ready to vomit. He didn't. Not in the slightest. He just wanted to get away from this place and find Jack.

  The woman gave a shrug. "Your decision, ma'am," she said, looking at Zoé. "You're going against my professional advice."

  Matt was on his feet now. Although he felt a little unsteady, there was no way he was going to show any weakness. Zoé was right, they needed each other at this time, and they needed to find Jack as quickl
y as possible.

  The young jogger said she'd seen no one, although she'd mentioned to the officers that she thought she'd "sort of seen someone running with a stroller," but maybe not coming from this direction, and she had no idea if it was a man or a woman. "I was looking at you lying on the ground," she said. She seemed reluctant to leave.

  Matt wondered if she was waiting for a reward. "Thanks again," he said. "Give Zoé your contact details, and we'll get in touch."

  "I know who you both are. I recognized you from the television straight away. We were all watching the terrorist attack on the television in the church recreation room last night, and then you came on. You know, when you arrived at the airport? Our church minister, Steve Valdieri, says he knows you and he really, really wants to meet you."

  Matt's head started to swim again. He felt as though he'd been time traveling, and now he was back in Tourvillon at the Clinic of the Little Sisters, and the Archbishop was coming to administer the last rites. "I knew someone called Valdieri once," he heard himself saying, a distant voice that didn't seem to belong. "Archbishop Stephen Valdieri."

  "That's him! That's him!" The young jogger with the yellow running shoes started jumping up and down in excitement. "I've really made his day. I hope it's all right, I've already phoned to tell him you're here. He's on his way to see if he can help."

  Matt stared into the distance, trying to make sense of everything. Perhaps he was dead, and visions of his past were about to flash before his eyes. And leading the procession was a man who was dressed in dark blue jeans and a sweatshirt with the words Symbol of Hope Church on it, and a plain wooden cross dangling around his neck. He'd once seen a man who looked a bit like this, but couldn't place him.

  "We met in France," the man said with a smile. "You may remember kissing me."

  That certainly got the attention of the two officers.

  Matt shook his head. "Sorry, I don't think so. This is Zoé. She's my wife." He deliberately emphasized the relationship.

  "Steve Valdieri," the man said, coming closer. "You gave me the kiss of life at the Clinic of the Little Sisters in Tourvillon. Do you remember now?"

  An odd feeling of déjà vu. He half recognized the man's voice, but he sounded more American than Italian now. Then it hit him. "You're the Archbishop!" He shouted so loudly that his head started to hurt again. Without the clerical garb, and without the flowing locks of silver hair, and with only the hint of the Italian accent that had been so distinctive in France, it had taken a few moments for recognition to finally get through. "So you really are here in New York? I thought this young lady was part of my hallucinations."

  Valdieri looked awkward. "I'm not an archbishop now. I agreed to be put out to grass in gratitude for saving the Holy Father's life. I have no official capacity within the Catholic Church."

  "What sort of reward is that?" Matt asked, still trying to make sense of things.

  "That's enough." Big Cop came forward, waving his arms as though to dismiss the ex-Archbishop -- the best man Matt felt he had seen all day.

  "Please sort this out for us."

  "Be sure I will pray for both of you," Valdieri said. "If my understanding of what has happened is correct, you're going to need every bit of prayer I and my friends can manage."

  "What we want," Zoé said fiercely, "is to get our baby back. I do not mind if the police find him, if we find him, or if God finds him. We just want him back safely. They are waiting at the clinic to start his treatment today. I just hope they can cure him when we get him back."

  Small Cop gave an unpleasant sneer. "You won't be getting him back if your husband killed him."

  Somehow or other, maybe by a miracle if it wasn't caused by brain damage, Matt could see someone who looked like Simon Urquet making his way quickly through the gathering crowd.

  "Don't say anything, Matt."

  He recognized the voice immediately. "Simon, thank God you're here. Tell me I'm about to wake up in the hotel and find this has all been a terrible nightmare. Zoé will be sitting on the end of the bed feeding baby Jack."

  Simon Urquet shook his head. "I'm sorry, Matt. And you too, Zoé. These police officers have no right to question you while you're in this state. I'm here to help."

  "Then help us get our baby back," Zoé said.

  Big Cop must have recognized Simon Urquet in his expensive suit as someone you didn't mess with. "We all want to find that baby, sir," he said, submissively. "That's why we're here."

  "Right," Urquet said. He turned to the two officers. "My name is Simon Urquet. I represent Mr. and Mrs. Rider as my clients. Have you read the Miranda waiver to them?"

  They shook their heads.

  "In that case let's have an informal discussion. Mr. and Mrs. Rider love their baby and I guarantee they are innocent. A terrible crime has been committed and you need to start a search for the missing baby. This couple have clearly suffered enough, without the addition of police harassment."

  Whether it was the presence of a big shot lawyer, or an ex-archbishop in plain clothes with a wooden cross hanging round his neck, Matt wasn't sure, but the two officers moved away with Simon Urquet to carry on their discussion.

  Zoé leaned over Matt and whispered in his ear. "You can thank me for getting Simon Urquet here so quickly. As soon as I saw what had happened, I phoned him. He was having his breakfast and he said Zak would drive him over here straight away. He is not staying far downtown, and said that in the meantime we were not to make any statements. I forgot to tell you that last bit," she admitted. "I hope you have not said anything silly to the police. I know what you like with your jokes."

  Matt gave a groan and gently felt the back of his head. "I don't think I've said anything. Nothing sensible, anyway. If you keep hold of my arm, I think I'm going to be okay."

  Two more police patrol cars arrived, and Matt could see Simon Urquet taking the heat as he argued with the officers. Eventually Simon Urquet came across to where he sat on the grass with Zoé. Simon Urquet explained that he had to promise they would make a statement at the precinct later in the day and surrender their passports. In return, the police promised they would make a full and immediate search of the area.

  Valdieri came across when Simon Urquet had finished briefing Matt and Zoé. "Where are you staying?" he asked.

  "In a hotel just over there," Zoé said. "But I do not think we can go back, now that so many people have gathered. Everyone who has come here to look will follow us and make the nuisance of themselves."

  "You can come and stay at my place," Valdieri offered, quietly enough so no one would overhear. "It's further up, on the west side of the Park. Nearer Harlem. I run a small church there. It's open to anyone of any denomination. We have some accommodation, and there's a large first aid kit your wife can use."

  Zoé examined the back of Matt's head for the first time. "It looks as though you were hit with a blunt instrument, as the police say. The skin it is hardly broken. You are not going in the ambulance. I will help you."

  Valdieri turned to Simon Urquet. "If that's your limousine over there, I'm sure it will be comfortable enough for Matt and Zoé to travel in." He winked at Matt and handed Urquet a small leaflet. "The address is on there. Give it to your driver. The sooner Matt and Zoé get away from here and get some rest, the better. I can see some media circus vans arriving already. I'm sure your driver knows how to evade them on the way." He turned to the young jogger. "Vicky, you and I will follow in a cab."

  Simon Urquet shook his head. "Absolutely no need. There's plenty of room in the DCI limo." He turned to Matt and Zoé. "I have to warn you that the police are still highly suspicious of you both. If Zoé hadn't phoned me, you could both be under arrest."