Eyes of the Innocent

by Christopher Wright

  Chapter 31

  It took almost two and a half hours on the Interstate and smaller roads to get to Pete's shop in Alexandria, but they were still nearly an hour early. Matt decided to knock on the shop door, but got no answer. They would have to wait.

  Further down the street they could see a convenience store. It had baseball caps and other stuff hanging outside. "Just in case those two cops come by in their cruiser, let's put on a bit of disguise. Baseball caps and sunglasses, or shades, or whatever they call them here. You can tuck your hair up out of sight, and we'll sit here trying to look innocent."

  Zoé suggested she could take her hair out through the back of the cap like a ponytail. She made that decision quickly, but took a lot longer choosing glasses. Eventually she found a pair that she said suited her. As far as Matt was concerned anything would do, as long as they didn't attract attention. Mirror sheriff shades weren't an option if they didn't want to draw attention to themselves.

  They bought coffee for themselves and took it back to the car. Zoé looked at the dashboard clock. "We still have a long time to wait. Let us go and check out the house of Senator Harding again."

  "What are you thinking?"

  Zoé yawned a long yawn. "I am thinking it is boring sitting here waiting for Pete to open up at ten o'clock."

  "That's not a bad idea, as long as we don't stop outside the gates. There might be something we need to be aware off, like road works or builders in the area. If there are people around, I won't be able to sit near the Senator's house directing Pete with his plane. Let's go and check it out."

  They left Alexandria and were soon approaching the Senator's house. "Keep going," Zoé said. "I can see someone standing inside the gates."

  Matt had already seen the man in uniform wearing a gun holster. He went straight past at a steady speed, hoping not to be noticed.

  Zoé gave a sharp intake of breath. "That was Wendell," she said.

  Matt kept watch in the rearview mirror, and the man didn't run out into the street. They continued to their famous picnic pull-off before stopping.

  "That proves Wendell Harris knows Senator Harding," Zoé said. "He was not wearing the police uniform, so I think he really is a security guard. But he failed to trick us to stay away from Washington, because I managed to get inside the Hardings' house and see the baby."

  Matt nodded thoughtfully. "It definitely was Wendell. I'm sorry I ever doubted you before."

  "So," Zoé said, "are you thinking that Wendell took Jack after hitting you on the head in Central Park?"

  "Not just thinking it, he must have done. It's too much of a coincidence."

  "So why did he ask us if we were innocent when you climbed out of the Pond? He knew we were."

  "I guess it was all part of the act. It fooled me. He questions us as though he's suspicious of us, and then says he trusts us. Because he says he trusts us, that makes us trust him. Smart."

  "And where was Jack while he was talking to us?"

  "He must have hidden him in a vehicle near Central Park where no one would have thought to look. There's no way he could have got to Washington and back before he saw me diving into the Pond."

  "I hope he did not harm Jack."

  Matt could see tears welling up in Zoé's eyes. "He may have given him to one of his so-called female contacts. I'm sure whoever had him took great care." He wouldn't add that not taking care might be the reason for the burial. "He must have put the Hardings in a panic when he told them you recognized baby Jack's cry."

  "Then Senator Harding told him to give us the herrings that are red to keep us out of the way and make a nuisance of ourselves with the police. So now we tell the police, and the police tell us not to waste their time," Zoé said.

  "You're right, the police definitely don't trust us. By the time we manage to convince them -- assuming we do manage to convince them to take action -- Jack won't be here. Not if Wendell has a contact in the police."

  "I think poor little Jack is in that casket deep under the ground. Please, do not try to tell me otherwise."

  "Even if he is, Zoé, and it's a big if, the Hardings could still dig up the casket and take it away. I guess Wendell is there to keep an eye open for us. I wouldn't put it past him to know we've come to Washington."

  "I do not think he saw us just now," Zoé said.

  "I wouldn't bank on it. He's not stupid. Let's find another way back to Alexandria, just in case. Mind you, he could be waiting for a delivery."

  Zoé pointed to the clock on the dashboard. "It is time anyway to go back to Pete. I think we will not tell him about Wendell. Do you think Wendell could shoot the plane down?"

  "Not with a handgun. Probably not, anyway. You're right, we don't tell Pete about Wendell standing inside the gates with a gun."

  Various options ran through Matt's head as he took another route back to Alexandria and Pete's shop. His mind was so taken up with possible plans that Zoé had to shout at him several times to slow down.

  They arrived at the shop just before ten to find the lights on. They parked once again in the side street to be out of sight, although Matt said they were almost certainly being overcautious.

  Pete ushered them into the shop and dropped the catch. The workshop at the back was much larger than Matt expected it to be. Various model planes and helicopters hung from the ceiling. If some of them were designed to fly, they were so large that they would surely need a special runway. Anyway, he wasn't here to discuss that.

  Pete pointed to a large model of a high-winged monoplane that looked like a Cessna, then lifted it and turned it over. Let into the fuselage directly below the wings Matt could see a small black camera.

  "It looks like a film camera," he said. "I was hoping it would be digital, so we can see the results straight away."

  "Digital cameras are too heavy if you want the quality of even a cheap film camera. It's going to change one day I'm sure," Pete said, "but right now this is the best tool for the job, believe me. It's got a motor drive, it's very light, and it's got a sharp lens."

  Matt shrugged. "Okay, I guess we wouldn't get a second attempt at it anyway. That looks like a fuel engine at the front, not electric. It's going to make one tremendous noise."

  "I've got electric motors," Pete explained patiently. "They don't have the flying time, and with the batteries they're surprisingly heavy. The payload for this plane is on the heavy side just with the camera, so we don't need batteries in there as well. Again, I guess things will change in the future. So this is it. Take it or leave it."

  "We will take it," Zoé said. "Do not take any notice of Matt."

  Pete nodded and wiped his hands down his grubby sweatshirt that advertized a model flying club. "Right then, here's the plan." Pete finished rubbing his hands, probably picking up more dirt than he was wiping off. He produced a roughly drawn map of the area around Senator Harding's house. He tapped the paper. "This is the house and yard. I've copied it from Google Earth, so I know where the yard is in relation to the house. We fly parallel to the street. If you're looking for freshly dug earth, it's going to be in this part of the yard." He tapped the map again.

  Zoé looked puzzled. "Why not the area behind the house?"

  "Lady, because that's all patio and hardcore. And a tennis court. And there's a wide strip of woodland along the boundary. They're not going to be digging there to bury anything."

  "Are you sure?" Zoé asked.

  "Yes, lady, it's like I said. I zoomed in close on Google Earth. I could see the house, the outbuildings and tennis court, and an area of woodland with a small cabin amongst the trees. But the only area of interest is a large flower border at the end of the lawn. If I was burying something big, that's where I'd do it."

  Zoé turned to Matt. "If the casket is buried in a flower border, they could have hidden the grave by planting something over it."

  Matt shook his head. "They'll put bouquets of flowers on it before they plant anything. Maybe even a little cross. Everyone marks a grav
e in some way. They won't have thought about aerial photography. If we can find it, we can dig it up."

  Pete looked up quickly. "Hey, man, I thought all you wanted to do was find a grave. If you're digging up bodies, you can count me out."

  "Don't worry," Matt said, "you won't be digging up anything. As far as you're concerned we just want some aerial photographs of Senator Harding's garden, yard, whatever. Give us the film and you're not involved from then on."

  "Okay." Pete thought for a moment and then he laughed. "That's what they do when they're checking out a politician. They look to see where the bodies are buried." He laughed again. "Literally, in this case."

  He waited for applause, which wasn't forthcoming.

  "Okay, back to the plan. One of you needs to stand by the gates with your phone."

  "Would a couple of hundred yards up the street do?" Matt asked. "Waiting by the gates might draw attention." Waiting by the gates would certainly draw attention.

  "I guess," Pete said grudgingly. "But the closer you can be, the better you can check the flight line. You'll be holding a transmitter with a button to work the servo to take a burst of pictures. You can tell me if the plane is on the right course."

  "What about me?" Zoé asked.

  Pete just shrugged. "I guess you can stay with your husband."

  That sounded a bit sexist, but Matt wasn't going to comment on it and upset Pete. He had a sudden idea. He turned to Zoé. "You can be further down the street with the car. Try and keep in sight of the gates, and if you see anything going wrong, don't come to help. Drive off and phone 9-1-1."

  "What, have they got guns?" Pete asked, laughing.

  "Let's just do this job as though they have," Matt said. "We need those pictures urgently." But if Jack was in the casket he would be dead, even if he'd been buried alive. He cursed his gruesome brain for even thinking such a thing. As far as he could tell, the possibility had yet to cross Zoé's mind.

  "So where are you launching the plane from?" Matt asked.

  Pete tapped his hand-drawn map again. "There's a patch of open land here that's not yet been developed. I've been there on my bike and checked it out. Someone's put down a stretch of blacktop, ready for development. No trees in the way. I can take off and land easily."

  Matt frowned. "It must be nearly half a mile away. Are you sure you can see the Senator's house and yard from there?"

  "That's why I need you near the house," Pete said. "I've got an exact compass bearing and I can fly the plane along the right sort of line. I can see it in the air a lot of the way, but you need to be on the phone to tell me whether to go left or right a bit when it approaches the house. I'll need to turn the plane as soon as possible, before it goes out of radio contact, so tell me when it's clear of the house. Should be easy enough."

  Well, the expert had spoken, and Matt shrugged. Who was he to think it wouldn't be easy? His cell phone had plenty of charge. He'd already noticed there was a strong signal near the Senator's house.

  Pete removed the high wing from the plane and laid it across the back seat of the rental car where it almost reached from door-to-door. The fuselage and tail section went into the boot, as Matt found himself calling it.

  "Wait here," Pete said. "I'll get my bike. Follow me and we'll go to the launch site."

  The bike was quite a beast, intended for off-road use. Pete shot off, leaving Matt still fiddling with the automatic gear selector. "I wish you could hire a car with a gear lever and clutch," he complained.

  "You mean rent a car with stick shift," Zoé said.

  "Got it." The car took off smoothly and Matt caught up with Pete who had now slowed for them.

  Half a mile before Senator Harding's house Pete took a right turn onto a rough track. Matt wondered how this could possibly be a suitable site for takeoff and landing. Mac the Hack's twin stopped at the end of the track by an enormous pile of builders' rubble that had probably been there for several years. It must have come from a previous building. On the left was smooth tarmac that had been prepared for a house where the foundations had been started but were now long abandoned.

  Pete removed the components for the plane from the car and quickly assembled them into a complete aircraft. He spun the propeller and the engine burst into a high pitched scream. As quickly as it started it stopped.

  "Just checking," Pete said. "Wouldn't do to attract attention. Not that there's anyone around here. The guy who started this place seems to have run out of money. Or maybe he had trouble with the permit. Senator Harding's probably to blame."

  "So are you ready to go?" Matt asked, feeling impatient now they were so close to getting the photographs.

  "Okay, ready."

  Pete handed Matt a small black box with a long silver aerial. "When you see the plane coming, keep jabbing the button. You need to leave about a second each time to allow the film to wind on. I'll fly slowly so you should be able to get several shots. We need to have our phones connected and you can tell me if I need to correct the line and when to turn."

  Matt examined the box. Pressing the red button would be the easy part. Finding a place to stand out of sight from Wendell, but with a good view of the Senator's property was going to be tricky. Almost certainly Zoé would have to drop him off before getting to the house, where the ground was still high enough. Beyond the house the street sloped down and the trees would hide the plane as it approached.

  Matt dialed Pete's number and made sure they could speak to each other. "Here's wishing success," he said, as he put the car into drive and drove away with Zoé beside him.

  A couple of hundred yards before they came in sight of the Senator's house, Matt told Zoé to drop him off and take the car a few hundred yards beyond the house, turn it, and wait to him to phone. And to make sure she had a good phone signal wherever she waited.

  "But you will already be on the phone to Pete," she protested.

  "Don't worry. Once Pete has done the photography I'll ring off and phone you. Simple."

  "If only it was, Matt. Me, I am afraid it will all go wrong. I do not know how it will go wrong, but I know it will."

  Matt told her to stop worrying, and explained how to drive an automatic. "Just use your right foot for what they call the gas pedal. That's the accelerator to us. And use your right foot on the brake. Never put your left foot on anything."

  Matt watched Zoé disappear, then walked slowly towards the Senator's house. If he crossed the street he could see the boundary wall but not the front gates because of a slight bend.

  He gave Pete the okay and stood by with the box ready to take the pictures. Five minutes later there was no sign of the plane. He could hear background noises on the phone, which meant the line was still working, so if the engine was running he'd hear that too.

  Suddenly a burst of sound came from his phone and Pete asked, "Are you all set?"

  "Okay whenever you're ready."

  The engine noise rose to a high-pitched scream and then faded. As the sound of the engine on the phone faded, the sound of the engine in real life came from further up the street.

  "Okay, Pete, I can hear it."

  He could see the plane coming now, but it was too far away from the yard and over the area of the Senator's woodland.

  "Go left, Pete. Left," he said into the phone.

  The correction came too late, but there were thirty-six exposures on the film, so he pressed the button three times in case some of the yard was included.

  "How's it looking?" Pete asked.

  "Turn around now and come back, but nearer the street, and we should have it wrapped up. As soon as I've taken the pictures I'm going to ring off and get Zoé to pick me up."

  "Turning now," Pete said. "Can you see it?"

  Matt looked down the street. No sign of Wendell yet. "I can hear it coming, Pete. Okay. Okay. Spot-on. See you in five."

  He finished the call and immediately phoned Zoé. She said she was on her way.

  He had hardly finished the call before he s
aw her coming. "We must go quickly, so hurry up," she said. "Wendell was there and he was on the phone to someone. He was standing out in the street looking this way."

  As they got back to Pete, they could hear a siren. To say Pete looked anxious was an understatement. It was a long time since Matt had seen someone in such a nervous state.

  "Don't worry, it won't be for us," he said with relief. "The police could never get here that quickly, assuming Wendell Harris was on the phone to them about the plane."

  "Ah," Zoé said, "I think Wendell recognized me as I went past the first time. I saw him looking very closely at me and he started running down the street my way. Then he went back to the gates. I tried to phone you to tell you not to fly the plane, but you were already on the phone to Pete."

  Pete had been listening. "I'm off," he said jumping on his bike. "Here's the film. I've taken it out of the camera. You only took a few shots so I hope you got what you wanted. The wing is already off the plane. Here, take my bag. I don't want to be caught with anything."

  Pete jumped on his bike, steered it around the high mound of rubble, and rode across a patch of rough ground towards a stand of trees with houses beyond, his bike bucking and diving as it went.

  "De toute la joue. Of all the cheek," Zoé said. "He has left us with the evidence most incriminating. What are we to do, Matt?"

  "Get back in the car and turn it round. Let's hope we're out of sight."

  Zoé jumped into the car, and Matt quickly decided that the evidence most incriminating, as Zoé called it in her French way, would best be hidden behind the mountain of builder's rubble where it would be out of sight unless someone was deliberately looking for it.

  The job done, Matt asked Zoé to move across and he would drive.

  "What do we do now?" Zoé asked, looking pale.

  "We have to get away from here. Quickly. If the police come up this track and find us here, they may start searching the area. I've got the film. It's the only incriminating evidence we have with us. I think the best thing to do is to go back past the house."

  "No, we have to get back to Alexandria, Matt."

  Matt turned right onto the street. "If the police are looking for us, they'll be expecting us to go back to Alexandria, not going the other way. They may have a road block there. If we're unlucky and they stop us, we can tell them we're exploring the area. Which we are, in a way. Well, trying to explore Senator Harding's yard."

  The police cruiser was parked outside the main gates, and Wendell Harris was pointing to the sky. Suddenly he spotted the car. He said something to the officers and they signaled Matt to stop.

  "You again," the senior officer said accusingly. "You'd better have a good reason for being here. You were told to leave the Senator alone. Get out of the vehicle with your hands on the roof. I'm searching your car."

  "What are you expecting to find?" Matt asked.

  "Do you know anything about a model plane?"

  Matt nodded. "We were parked just back there. I saw one come over."

  The young officer decided to join in the questioning. "And were you flying it?"

  "Certainly not," Matt said, deciding that Stephen Valdieri would be proud of the way he was telling the truth. "I watched it come over, though."

  The senior officer finished his search of the car and asked Matt to empty his pockets and their two backpacks. He also told Zoé to turn out her bag. Her purse, Matt noticed the officer called it.

  Their backpacks had their overnight stuff. Zoé's bag, purse, contained just the usual stuff a woman carried around. All they could find in Matt's pocket were some coins and a wallet with a bank card, driving licenses for him and Zoé, and some dollar bills.

  "Passports?"

  "Back in New York." He didn't add that they were with the police there.

  The senior officer made detailed notes of all their documents, including their temporary address at Valdieri's church, and handed them back. "I'm warning you both now, officially, that if you so much as come this side of Alexandria again, you're going to be arrested."

  Matt wasn't sure what they could be arrested for, unless of course they found the plane. But he wasn't going to argue with these two officers. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry if we've been a nuisance."

  "And neither of you was flying a model plane around here?" the young officer asked again.

  They both shook their heads and assured him that they hadn't been flying a model plane, either today or any previous day. Matt was wondering whether to say that when he was young he'd flown model gliders off the Mount back home, but that information was hardly likely to be of help. So he kept his mouth shut.

  The senior officer looked doubtful, but told them to go straight back to New York where they were staying. "And tell that priest to keep an eye on you."

  Matt thanked him. He wasn't sure if Stephen Valdieri was technically still a priest, but he certainly wasn't going to argue the point now that they were free to go.

  Matt turned the car and went back towards Alexandria. The police cruiser followed.

  "I told you to turn left and not go past the house," Zoé said.

  Matt slowed the car. Another cruiser from coming fast towards them, its blue and red lights flashing. The driver waved them to a halt. The cruiser following them drove past and spoke to the officer who then waved them on.

  "Just as well I did turn right," Matt said. "That cruiser was on its way here from Alexandria, but the driver wouldn't have known if we were ahead of him or not. If we'd turned left, the police by the gates would have known we'd not passed them, so they'd realize we came from somewhere between the two cars."

  Zoé refrained from congratulations. Maybe his explanation was too involved. "So what now?" she asked.

  "We get the film processed, but not here. We don't want them picking up the prints."

  "You definitely have the film, Matt? I thought they were going to find it when the police searched the car."

  Matt kept checking the rearview mirror. The white cruiser with red stripes was behind them again. "They weren't looking for something small like a film cassette." He reached down and pulled back the corner of the carpet in the footwell. "Here it is, but it's going back there for now. They're still following us. I suggest we get back to Washington, or maybe Georgetown. Georgetown is easier. We can get the film processed and printed there."