Eyes of the Innocent

by Christopher Wright

  Chapter 23

  The train journey passed in silence. Zoé was too upset to speak, leaving Matt to consider their next move. Some time after leaving Philadelphia he fell asleep, in his dream reliving the real nightmare of the baby with the slit throat in the Brooklyn cemetery.

  He'd phoned Valdieri from Union Station before leaving Washington, and the ex-archbishop had insisted that he and Zoé continued to stay in the small apartment they already occupied at the church. He gave them little choice, because he'd already collected their luggage from the hotel.

  On the phone, Pete seemed disappointed not to be getting one over on Senator Harding, but he told them that if his package worked he could offer an aerial photography service to anyone. So he thanked them for the suggestion, and was going to try it out, but only where there was an open space.

  The hostage situation in downtown Manhattan was still ongoing, and the police were at all street junctions, checking vehicles. A frustrating journey in the traffic in a yellow cab dropped them eventually at Valdieri's church. The subway would have been quicker, but not necessarily safer. There had already been several alerts of suspicious packages found on platforms.

  They lay on the bed in the small apartment, which was more basic than Matt had initially anticipated when Stephen Valdieri offered it, but Zoé seemed relieved to have a place to crash out in.

  "Don't forget your medicine," Matt said. "Here's a glass of water. I want to see you take your tablets before I go downstairs."

  Zoé looked zapped. "Where are you going, Matt?"

  Matt watched while she swallowed two tablets. "You need to rest. I'm going to have a chat with Stephen."

  "Steve," she said. "His name is Steve."

  Matt shook his head. "I still can't get my head round that. There's too much history there from the convent in Tourvillon."

  Zoé gave what almost looked like a smile. "Lucky you. Not everyone gets to kiss an archbishop." She smiled more broadly now. "And undress him."

  Matt couldn't believe the tablets were working so quickly. This was the old Zoé. "Try and get some rest. We don't know what lies ahead."

  He bent down and gave her a kiss on the lips. "Now that's what I call a kiss," he said. "Beats kissing an archbishop any day."

  As he left the room, he looked back. Zoé was still smiling.

  Downstairs, Stephen Valdieri ushered Matt to one of the leather couches in the reception room. "I'm so sorry, Matt. I have to say I wasn't optimistic about Washington, but at least that one's sorted now. Oh, and I've had a warning from my friend the Assistant Chief here. It seems that his colleague in Washington has just received a serious mauling from Senator Harding for getting his men to call at the house unannounced. So you're not even to think of going back there."

  "No point. Zoé saw the baby. He was asleep, so she couldn't check his eyes. But that didn't matter. She insists it definitely wasn't him. So where do we go from here?"

  Valdieri took some time before replying. "What is your opinion on Wendell Harris?" he asked. "Do you really think he could be an undercover cop?"

  Matt shrugged. "Why do you ask?"

  "There's something about him that I don't trust," Valdieri said. "I take it Zoé is resting."

  "It's a strain for both of us. Zoé really believed we were onto something in Washington. So did I -- I think. So tell me again what Wendell said."

  "He phoned me an hour ago to say he had some news. That was all he said. I've not been able to get him to answer his phone since. You're sure you're not paying him money for his help?"

  "Absolutely sure. I made that clear when he first offered to help. If he's not an undercover cop, he's a security guard with a social conscience. I wouldn't grudge him his moment of fame if he gets our baby back."

  A soft tap at the door and Lauren entered. "Where Zoé?" she asked.

  Matt nodded towards the ceiling. "Upstairs, resting. Probably best not to disturb her."

  Lauren sighed. "Poor lamb. Poor you, too. I can't even start to imagine what you're both going through. I know Steve here has spent many hours in prayer. So have we all in our little community."

  "Thanks, Lauren. Please pass on my thanks to your whole team." To his surprise, he didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed to know that people had been praying.

  Lauren stayed in the doorway.

  "Come and sit by me, Lauren." Matt put his hand on the couch cushion. "It's good to have a bit of a female company at a time like this." Surely she wouldn't take this to be a pass.

  Lauren came and sat down by him, keeping a respectable distance away. "Steve tells me you had your hopes dashed in Washington. Don't be hard on Zoé. I know a mother's instinct can be very strong. Which doesn't, of course, mean it's always right."

  Valdieri spoke up. "Matt knows that the Washington door is firmly closed now."

  Matt nodded. "I need to be doing something, not just sitting around waiting for the phone to ring."

  At that moment the bell at the entrance door rang, making Matt jump.

  Valdieri went to the door, and Matt could hear him talking to a man. It wasn't Wendell Harris.

  "I'll tell him you're here," he heard Valdieri say.

  Valdieri came back into the room. "There are two people to see you, Matt. But don't get your hopes up. They say they're from the police but they don't have any news on Jack. Lauren and I will leave you alone."

  Matt shook his head. "Please stay. I don't know why they're here, but I'd like you to sit in on this one." If they'd come to accuse him again of harming baby Jack, he needed support from friends. "And you can phone Simon Urquet if it all starts to go wrong."

  An older man in police uniform, with gray hair and a cap with a gold band, stood in the doorway. His jacket was covered in badges, including one that said Police Department State of New York. The other visitor, a middle aged woman with a mature figure, wearing a smart black business suit, managed to look like Matt imagined social workers all over the world looked.

  The man seemed rather put out to see Valdieri and Lauren. "Mr. Rider, maybe you'd rather we spoke to you alone," he said.

  Did they think he had something to hide? "They're staying," Matt said firmly. "I gather you don't have an update on the search."

  The woman, introducing herself as Courtney, said it was fine for Valdieri and Lauren to stay.

  "Then what is this about?"

  "Mr. Rider," said the uniformed officer, who had yet to introduce himself, "we're from the precinct, and we just want to run over your statement again."

  "I need to see your identity," Matt said.

  The man laughed. "I am in uniform."

  "I wasn't expecting to see you, with or without uniform. I'd expect the police to make an appointment. I'm a private detective. A private eye. It's my job to be suspicious."

  "Quite right too, Mr. Rider." The man showed his identity badge. It said Deputy Inspector Michael O'Reilly.

  "And you," he said to Courtney. He was almost enjoying this, and they were now the ones on the back foot. The woman's badge said Courtney Mitchell. It didn't give a police rank.

  "Okay, so tell me why you're here." Yes, he was definitely putting them on the back foot. They now looked a little embarrassed. This could be like the interview with Melanie all over again.

  Deputy Inspector O'Reilly looked around the room in an obvious gesture. "Is Mrs. Rider here?"

  Lauren said, "She's upstairs at the moment. Sleeping. This has been a terrible shock."

  "I'm the one you need to speak to," Matt said. "I'm the one who was mugged. Our baby was taken from me. Zoé, my wife, was only just entering Central Park at the time. There's a witness. "

  "Yes, we've already established that," Deputy Inspector O'Reilly agreed.

  "Good. That means you don't need to bother her anymore. And if you really think I'd harm our baby after coming here all the way from England to New York for treatment, then you have no right to call yourself a policeman. Let alone a Deputy Inspector. I take it your search in t
he dumpsters didn't turn up anything suspicious. What a waste of time. Your officers should have been searching Central Park, not trying to find food for their families."

  Lauren placed a hand gently on Matt's shoulder. "Try and stay calm, Matt. I'm sure these people are here to help."

  "Then they can help by getting out there and trying to find out what's happened to Jack." He thought for a moment. "I'm sorry. I'm tired. You've no idea what this has done to me and Zoé. Okay, you've got a job to do. So tell me why you're really here."

  Courtney Mitchell made small soothing noises, which Matt thought were an attempt at apology. A spoken one would have been better. "Michael and I need to clarify a couple of points," she said, turning to O'Reilly.

  "I'm ready," Matt said.

  The Deputy Inspector coughed what sounded like an infectious cough. "You say the last thing you remember before regaining consciousness on the ground were footsteps behind you. In your report you mentioned that you thought it was your wife. Why did you say that?"

  Matt shrugged. "They were just footsteps. I thought perhaps Zoé had come to join me on the walk. It was our last time for bonding with Jack before the major surgery."

  "So maybe you were feeling aggrieved that Zoé hadn't started out with you on the walk," Courtney Mitchell suggested.

  "Not at all. Zoé wanted to rest. It was a long journey coming here from England. And the change in time zone was making things difficult for her. Zoé was diagnosed in England with postnatal depression. It's no secret, and it's in my statement."

  Courtney Mitchell nodded knowingly. "Yes, postnatal depression. That can do strange things to a new mother."

  Matt jumped to his feet before Lauren could stop him. "Is that why you checked up on where my wife was at the time? Do you really think she'd hit me on the back of the head and taken Jack? What, and drowned him in the Pond?"

  "Please sit down, Mr. Rider. Such a move would not be beyond possibility. Yes, we had to check up. Of course we did. It would have been irresponsible not to. We managed to track down the young man who left the hotel with your wife, and he has confirmed her story. We know she is innocent of the attack. And we've tracked down the driver of the white horse buggy. He confirms seeing you with the baby."

  "You could have done that to start with. Right from the start you've had us down as child killers."

  O'Reilly gave a sort of apologetic shrug. "Mr. Rider, we had to act on our immediate suspicions. The buggy driver was out on a long tour of Central Park at the time, and then he went straight home with an upset stomach. Yes, I admit we were remiss in not persisting in trying to track him."

  "That sounds like a poor excuse." Matt sat down again. "I've more or less been accused of killing a baby in Green-Wood Cemetery. How many other police failings have there been?"

  That didn't get an answer.

  O'Reilly shifted uneasily on the couch. "We're not expecting a ransom demand. If it did happen, the kidnapper wouldn't know how to contact you. They would most likely go to Mr. Urquet. DCI have paid for your visit to New York, and he's heard nothing. Of course, you must let us know immediately if you receive any demands. We're the experts here."

  "We don't have any money," Matt said.

  O'Reilly nodded. "Yes, we've already checked that. That's why we've more or less ruled out a kidnapping for ransom."

  The questioning continued for nearly hour. Matt was made to go over what he could remember, time and time again. By the end of the questioning he had almost confused himself, and doubts started to creep into his mind about his own role in the kidnapping. No, there was no way he could have harmed Jack. And if he had, someone would have found him by now in Central Park. Perhaps a dog walker. Somebody had definitely taken little Jack.

  The visit to Green-Wood Cemetery had been traumatic, but this was more than ridiculous. He put his hands on each side of his head and gave a long groan. "All these questions, all these questions. Please, just tell me, have you come here to arrest us? Is that it? Are you hoping to break me down by repeating these stupid questions?"

  "I think Mr. Rider has been through enough," Valdieri said firmly. "He's answered your questions openly and consistently. I suggest you both leave now, or I will have to call his lawyer."

  The two visitors looked at each other, nodded, and agreed that their questions had been answered satisfactorily.

  "Thank you for your time, Mr. Rider," Courtney Mitchell said. "I'm sorry we've not found your baby yet. Believe me, we're doing all we can, but the hostage situation is taking valuable police resources. That's not an excuse."

  "It would have helped if you'd believed me when I was mugged."

  "The two officers who were called to the scene unfortunately were over-suspicious in their report."

  "And so was Melanie who came here to question me. I'm a PI, but I shouldn't have to be searching for Jack on my own."

  The Deputy Inspector nodded, looking serious. "We don't want you interfering with the search. Your trip to Washington demonstrates how inexperienced you are with police matters. Just leave it to us, and we'll say no more about breaching your orders to stay in New York. Do you understand?"

  "Yes," Matt said, "I understand what you're saying." He understood, but he wasn't going to give a promise. Boston beckoned. "So tell me exactly what you've been doing to find Jack? Where have you searched?"

  "The appropriate area in Central Park, of course."

  "Someone didn't spot the old blanket in the Pond. I had to dive in for it."

  "Yes, I heard about that, Mr. Rider. The blanket had nothing to do with your baby. Our officers aren't litter collectors."

  "So, to repeat, Deputy Inspector, what exactly have you been doing?"

  "We've contacted all hospitals and medical centers in every State, and are in the process of alerting all doctors' surgeries. And naturally the airports and sea ports have your baby's details."

  "And what doors have you been banging on?"

  "Mr. Rider, please leave any banging on doors to us."

  "Okay, so what are you actually doing to get out there and find Jack?"

  "What do you suggest we do?"

  "You can find him, that's what you can do. At least Zoé and I are showing some initiative."

  "Please refrain from showing any initiative and leave it to us, Mr. Rider. Thank you for your time. We'll be on our way now." Michael O'Reilly shook hands, and Matt wondered if he was trying to read something into the handshake.

  Valdieri showed them to the door, and Matt could hear a rather heated exchange on the doorstep.

  "Have they gone?" he asked, when Valdieri came back into the room.

  "Yes, gone. Neither of you realized who Courtney Mitchell is?"

  Both Matt and Lauren shook their heads.

  "She's a very senior police psychologist. I've come across her before in my work here."

  "She was here to see if I was a nutcase? You should have warned me."

  "No, Matt, she wanted to see you being yourself. The police rely on her a lot in cases like this. It was best you didn't know who she is. Your answers might not have been quite so direct, and she would have sensed you were putting on an act."

  "So you think I did okay?" Matt said. "Did they really need to interview me?"

  "They did," Valdieri said. "As Courtney Mitchell explained to me as she was leaving, Melanie went back with a report that confirmed the initial doubts the police had formed."

  "But they know Zoé wasn't near me at the time. And they now have witnesses that Jack was with me. If I did it, where was baby Jack when Vicky found me? I kept asking them that, but they wouldn't answer. I thought I really was going mad. If they'd stayed here any longer, they might have talked me into making a confession." He gave a nervous laugh. "A false confession, of course."

  "Matt, I'm sure they left here convinced that neither you nor Zoé are involved in any way in the kidnap. And please, call me Steve, not Stephen."

  "It's difficult, Stephen," Matt said. "There, I've done it again.
It's just when we met at the Little Sisters you were an archbishop."

  "And you still see me that way?"

  "No, not really, but you're, well, a senior sort of person."

  Lauren laughed, but it was a kind laugh. "You saved Steve's life. He looks up to you, Matt."

  Matt laughed as well. "The famous kiss of life. Zoé still teases me about it."

  "Ah yes," Lauren said, "the famous kiss. Don't worry, I know all about it." She laughed again, a gentle laugh. "Steve and I will be eternally grateful to you. You kissed a frog. A frog from the Vatican. And he turned into a prince. My prince. Prince Valdieri. You already know we're engaged. I expect Steve has told you our exciting news."

  She looked at Matt and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

  Matt shook his head. Surely Lauren wasn't pregnant. "What exciting news, Lauren?"

  Lauren stood and gave Matt a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. "He obviously hasn't told you. That's just like a man. Steve and I are getting married in two weeks' time. Naturally you're both invited to the wedding."

  "Lauren," Matt said quietly, "I wish you well, but in two weeks I hope Zoé and I will be back in England with little Jack safely in our arms. But we wish you and your Frog Prince a long and happy life together."