The 3rd Victim

by Sydney Bauer

  ‘In the car,’ he said. ‘I'm parked by the loading bay.’ He grabbed her elbow again and steered her to the left. ‘Let's take the paramedics' entrance. It'll be faster.’

  She nodded as they rounded another corridor and took a second left. The area was busy with two ambulances blocking the entryway, so Lisa grabbed Cole's hand and pulled him around the farthest one, just as another ambulance swerved into the bay and two paramedics jumped out to help a third team member extract the new patient from the back.

  ‘Shit,’ she said as she saw a young woman with a massive slice out of her forehead being pulled from the ambulance on a gurney, experience telling her the girl was yet another victim of some asshole husband or boyfriend with an alcohol-infused axe to grind.

  But then she stopped, her hand finding Cole's and jerking him backward. ‘Oh god, Cole. I know her.’

  ‘Know who?’ asked Cole.

  ‘That girl,’ she said as the paramedics ran the gurney through the automatic double glass doors. ‘Shit,’ she said again as she dropped his hand and ran back down the bay behind them. ‘Get my brother,’ she called as the doors opened in front of her. ‘I'll text you when I know something,’ she added before disappearing from view.

  2.29 pm

  Roger Katz could not help himself. He was drawing this out. It was like delaying the impending release of an almighty orgasm, the one you knew would be the best climax of your life, the one you might never get to experience again.

  Maisie Malloy was perfect. She was traditionally pretty and innocently guilt-ridden in that Irish-Catholic sort of way. Her voice was like music. She sounded like she was singing about her training and experience as a midwife – about her years of working as a nurse at Dublin's busy Mater Misericordiae Hospital and her consequential move into pre-natal care.

  ‘My years in nursing taught me that I definitely wanted to work with mothers and their babies, and so midwifery seemed like the obvious choice from there,’ she said.

  ‘So you got your midwifery licence in Dublin before moving to Boston about a year ago?’

  ‘Yes. I followed a boyfriend, Mr Katz, a move which didn't exactly work out. So in the end I was desperate to go home – to my mother.’ She started to blush. ‘I mean …’

  ‘That's okay, Miss Malloy,’ smiled the Kat, thanking the stars for delivering him such a perfect specimen. ‘All children have been known to run home to their mothers at one time or another.’ He turned toward the defendant. ‘That's what mothers are there for after all,’ he said, ‘protecting and comforting their children.’

  ‘Objection,’ called David.

  ‘Withdrawn,’ conceded Katz, his eyes still fixed on Sienna Walker. And as he watched her wriggle and squirm, her head turning left and right, right and left as if desperate to find a way out, he took great pleasure in the knowledge that she knew exactly what was coming – that her time was finally over, and there was no going back from here.

  2.37 pm

  ‘What's he doing?’

  Madonna was in the front seat of Arthur's Mercedes SUV. She had insisted on coming. She knew that she had been accepted as part of the team that would bring her high-and-mighty, baby-smuggling asshole of a boss down and, as such, saw it almost as her duty to help see this thing through.

  David was held up. They had no idea why. Arthur said it was probably because the Judge had denied him his adjournment, that he was making David get his first witness here this afternoon, so that the trial could remain on schedule.

  ‘I'm not sure what he's doing,’ said Arthur. ‘Thank god you came, Madonna, my eyes aren't what they used to be.’

  ‘That's cool,’ she replied, squinting through the window of Arthur's car, which was parked a good twenty-five yards up from the Eliot. ‘It looks like he's waiting for someone. He keeps looking at his watch and up and down the street.’

  Arthur nodded.

  ‘Do you think he is waiting for Sophia?’

  ‘Possibly,’ replied Arthur.

  ‘And if she turns up?’

  ‘We get out. We approach her. We convince her to come with us.’

  ‘I can convince her,’ said Madonna. ‘She likes me.’

  Arthur smiled. ‘How could she not.’

  2.39 pm

  ‘I need you to wake her up,’ said Lisa. She was hovering over the hospital bed, annoying the baby-faced doctor with the resident's badge and the attitude to match.

  ‘If she's your friend, you'll move back and let me take care of her,’ the doctor replied.

  ‘Jesus,’ said Lisa as the forehead wound began to bleed again. ‘What the hell has she been hit with?’

  ‘Something thick and heavy, a tyre iron maybe?’

  The registrar made a call. ‘The wound is too deep. I'm worried she's bleeding internally. We need to get her into surgery.’ He grabbed a nearby phone to make the arrangement.

  Lisa began to panic. ‘Shit,’ she said, again taking the patient's unresponsive hand. ‘What the hell happened to you?’ she whispered, before squeezing the girl's hand and looking to her nursing friend George, who was raising the sides of the gurney for the patient's transport to the OR. ‘I need you to call me, George. I want to know what happened the minute she gets out of surgery.’

  ‘Will do,’ said her friend. ‘Where are you going?’ he asked.

  ‘Downtown, but I'll be on my cell,’ she answered, before turning on her heels and running quickly out the door.

  2.47 pm

  Joe Mannix entered the courtroom from the back. Frank was with him. Susan was back at headquarters keeping an eye on Marco De Lorenzo. The man was scared out of his senses, and finally Joe understood why.

  The back of the courtroom was standing room only and Joe and Frank were trying to inch their way to the corner. There was a woman on the stand who was definitely not Barbara Wong McGregor, which meant Katz had called upon that extra time he'd requested – time he'd probably been planning on using all along.

  ‘That is not Wong McGregor,’ whispered Frank, reading Joe's thoughts.

  ‘No,’ replied Joe. ‘Arthur got it wrong,’ he added. ‘This isn't a case of Stein putting his foot down.’

  Arthur had called while Joe was stashing De Lorenzo in a holding cell, leaving a message that included a quick run-down on everything from their little charade in the courtroom to their waiting for David to hook up.

  ‘We have to stop running into each other like this,’ said a voice to the left of him. The man took Joe by surprise, as he had tended to do in recent weeks.

  ‘What are you doing here, Simba?’

  King looked tired, stressed. ‘Covering my ass. The Kat involved us from the outset. I needed to see how this was playing out.’

  Joe couldn't help but wonder when the hell the Feeb's top man in Massachusetts started playing lackey to the County DA, but then he dismissed the thought and asked: ‘Who is she?’

  ‘The midwife,’ replied Simba.

  Joe frowned. ‘Mary Brown,’ he said. ‘She's in Ireland.’

  King frowned. ‘Her name is Maisie Malloy and apparently not.’

  Joe shifted again, trying to get an uninterrupted view of the defence table way up front. But when he managed a clear line of vision it was not David that caught his attention but his long-haired, ashen-faced client. Sienna Walker was behaving like a rabbit in a trap, turning this way and that as if desperate to find someone who could pull her up and out. And then she shocked him by looking in his direction and stopping, a look of pure desperation on her face. And Joe knew that no matter how much he'd learnt, the DA had learnt more – that he'd beaten them to the finish line and that Sienna Walker, no matter how much they wanted to save her, was finally beyond their reach.

  2.51 pm

  ‘Wait,’ said Madonna. She was leaning so far out the window that her rib cage was beginning to hurt.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Arthur.

  ‘Not what, who.’

  ‘Sophia?’

  ‘No.’

  Art
hur shook his head. ‘Then who?’

  ‘Hold on,’ she replied, understanding that Arthur was frustrated that he did not share her 20/20 vision. But she needed to be sure of what she was seeing.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘That taxi that just pulled up down the way, see? The one parked in the no-stop zone? There are two people in the back seat, a man and a woman and … it looked like Davenport just gave them a slight nod, like they're the ones he's expecting.’

  Madonna sensed this was not good, because they were hoping they'd see Sophia, not the couple in the taxi … unless … ‘Hold on,’ she said as the couple started to get out. ‘Holy crap, Arthur, I think I know those two.’

  Arthur squinted toward the well-dressed African–American man and his blonde-haired companion. ‘Who are they?’ he asked. But then he got it. ‘They're some of Davenport's clients,’ he said. ‘One of the older couples.’

  She nodded. ‘They're the new ones I told you about, the ones that weren't on the list. Shit,’ she said then, ‘do you think he's going to give them a baby? Maybe Sophia popped and … shit,’ she said again, ‘maybe we're too late.’

  But Arthur did not answer as they watched Davenport shake the couple's hands before moving back inside the hotel proper. The couple followed and Madonna turned to Arthur. ‘Do you think I should go inside? It would be better if I could get closer. I could see exactly what was going on.’

  ‘No. I know this is hard, Madonna, but the moment you go in there you'll be recognised. We have to wait. I know the Eliot. The front entrance is the only way out. And it looks like the couple told their taxi to wait, so we have to sit tight and see how this plays out.’

  Madonna sighed, knowing Arthur was right but feeling pissed about it nonetheless. But luckily they didn't have to wait long.

  ‘Here they come,’ said Arthur a mere three minutes later.

  Madonna took up position hard against the passenger side door once again. ‘Holy shit,’ she repeated. ‘They've got a kid!’

  Arthur nodded, his eyes straining to take the scene in. ‘What is that the child is wrapped in? A big blue blanket?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Madonna. She watched the woman manoeuvre the cover around the child. ‘The kid is hard to see but I'm guessing he's sleeping. He looks big, heavy.’

  They watched as Davenport handed them a large yellow envelope, and then extended his right hand.

  ‘Jesus, Arthur, they're taking the kid with them. They just bought a freaking baby. Do we follow them?’

  Arthur looked worried. ‘Yes. I don't like the idea of losing Davenport but the couple, the child – they could be the only evidence we'll ever get against Davenport and Hunt. We …’ Arthur stopped short, squinting once again. ‘Madonna,’ he said, ‘is that Sophia?’

  Madonna looked up. She saw the heavily pregnant girl emerge from the Eliot's front entrance and wobble onto the front stoop. ‘Yes!’ she smiled. The overwhelming sensation of relief Madonna felt took her by surprise. She realised that somewhere along the way, she had started to feel protective of the girl in the big grey sweatsuit, and it took all of her strength not to jump out of the car and tear Sophia away from her sleazy, baby-selling boss.

  Madonna turned to Arthur, seeing the dilemma before them. ‘This is crap,’ she said as Davenport guided Sophia down the front steps and toward his BMW, which was parked outside the Harvard Club next door to the upper-crust hotel. Her eyes flicked back to the couple who were now getting into their cab. ‘Who the freak do we follow?’ she asked.

  Arthur sat silent and Madonna knew he was wishing that they could split themselves in two – which they could have done if they'd had another car, but there was no way they could get another taxi in time for them to ‘tail’ both of their targets.

  Arthur turned the key in the ignition before throwing Madonna a pen and a piece of paper from the middle console. ‘We take down the cab's plate and company number but we go with Davenport,’ he said. ‘Sophia's welfare could be at stake.’

  Madonna had to admit she was relieved at his decision. ‘Good call,’ she said.

  ‘I hope so,’ Arthur replied, as Davenport's car pulled out into the traffic, and Arthur did a U-turn to follow.

  3.09 pm

  When David was thirteen he was knocked out cold on the rugby field. It was after a high tackle, when the opposing team's prop hit him hard, his arm wrapping around David's neck before bringing him crashing to the ground. David recalled looking up at the cloudless sky and the tops of trees that swayed this way and that, and the next thing he knew the trees were replaced by people – unfamiliar faces leaning over him in his Children's Hospital of New Jersey bed.

  He remembered thinking how weird it was that you could miss whole chunks of reality by simply closing your eyes – and the realisation scared him, given David had always been one who liked to think he had some form of control over his own destiny and that of the people he loved. And he got the same feeling now, like he had blinked and the world had shifted, his client next to him now so distressed that David barely recognised her – her former inner strength in tatters, her quiet resilience gone.

  The midwife. Of all people she was the key. He knew it as well as he knew anything now, even though he had no idea what it was she was going to say. But whatever else he sensed he did not have long to find out, given Katz was building up to his highly anticipated crescendo, the one that would dazzle his audience and leave his opponents for dead.

  ‘Miss Malloy,’ the DA continued, the jury so riveted they barely bothered to breathe. ‘You have told us how Mrs Walker came to you, how, only days before the birth of her daughter, she enlisted you to be the one to assist her in the birth.’

  Malloy nodded.

  ‘So please, could you tell us in your own words how this birth played out?’

  Malloy took a breath. ‘From when she arrived at the birthing centre?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘All right then,’ she swallowed. ‘It happened like this.’

  3.10 pm

  Dr Lucas Cole entered the back doors quickly. His shaggy light brown hair was a mess so he smoothed it down with his hand. The place was packed – literally – so he stood on his tiptoes to see what was happening and noted that David and Sara were sitting at the front left-hand side of the courtroom, their defendant between them.

  He knew he had to talk to David but at this point he could not see how. He was a doctor. He did not know the protocol. But he had seen enough Law & Order to garner that interrupting proceedings like these was far from acceptable.

  So he waited, as the District Attorney asked the witness, who he'd now learnt was the midwife, about the delivery of the baby, and that was when his cell phone started to buzz.

  3.11 pm

  ‘The airport,’ said Arthur. ‘He's heading for the airport.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Madonna. ‘How do we stop them? We can't let her leave.’

  Arthur agreed. ‘We need help, Madonna, you and I can only take things so far.’

  ‘But David is busy – in court.’

  But Arthur was already punching a number into his iPhone. ‘Pick up, pick up,’ he said to himself.

  Joe Mannix wasn't answering.

  3.12 pm

  Maisie Malloy took a breath. The midwife was nervous but at this point her slightly staggered delivery was more of a plus than a minus. She looked scared, which she should have been considering what she was about to say. Hell, he'd like to find someone who wasn't freaked out by what the Irish girl before him was going to reveal to the world. It was so wonderfully horrifying that Katz was finding it hard to contain himself.

  ‘The labour was long,’ said Malloy, ‘and for most of it, Mrs Walker was pretty strong. She listened to what I recommended, she breathed, she didn't panic. She rode with the pain. I was pretty impressed by it really, her level of self-control.’

  Katz nodded. ‘And the baby? Could you tell if she was healthy or distressed or …?’

  ‘I worked in a natural birthing centr
e, Mr Katz, and part of the attraction of this is that we don't surround the mother with cords and wires and machines that beep. We maintained a calm and clutter-free environment, and I was experienced enough to know if there was a possibility of any problems – in which case of course, we would have moved Mrs Walker to a hospital immediately.’

  ‘I see, so there were no surprises?’ He worded the question in this way on purpose.

  Malloy almost snorted. ‘Oh there were surprises all right – or a surprise singular, I should say.’ She wriggled in her seat.

  ‘Go on, Miss Malloy.’

  The midwife nodded. ‘Well, once Mrs Walker was far enough along, I told her to push. The child was in the right position, head down and so forth, so I knew it wouldn't take much for me to coax her into the world, which we did, quite quickly in the end. And she was perfect.’ Malloy managed a smile. ‘She cried instantly, which meant her lungs were in good working order, and I cut the umbilical cord and cleaned her up and wrapped her in a blanket and handed her back to her mother.’

  Katz was trying desperately not to smile. He could hear the defendant twisting in her chair behind him. He knew Cavanaugh would be at a complete loss given that so far Malloy's testimony had not provided him with anything to object to. So why is my client jumping around like a grasshopper on a hotplate, Cavanaugh must be wondering, he thought. It was just too good – just too fucking brilliant.

  ‘And did Mrs Walker take her daughter?’ Katz proceeded.

  ‘No.’

  ‘No? She didn't want to hold her?’

  ‘No, I mean yes.’ Malloy shook her head, her pretty Irish curls flying this way and that. ‘She wanted to, but she couldn't.’

  ‘She couldn't hold her baby? Why on earth not?’

  ‘Because she was in too much pain.’

  ‘But you said the delivery was smooth,’ Katz continued.

  ‘It was, but the contractions had not stopped.’

  ‘The baby was born and the contractions continued? Was this normal?’