Chapter 14
The candle has hardly been lit when the police phoned on Matt's new cell phone, and told them to stay where they were at Valdieri's church. Only they didn't use the word church, they called it Valdieri's base. This made Matt think of a base camp at the foot of a mountain. But they weren't climbing up. They were facing a dark hole and climbing down into it quickly.
A police psychologist called Melanie was coming to see them.
Matt knew that the police were still suspicious. The police psychologist, a young woman who looked to be in her early twenties but was probably older, took a ridiculously long time to work around to her whole reason for coming.
"Supposing I put it to you," she said, after fifteen minutes of what seemed like meaningless chat, nervously twiddling a pen in her hand, "that our Chief suspects that you've done away with your baby? Tell me your response." She looked quickly from Matt to Zoé and then back again, presumably searching for some hint in their body language.
"Supposing I put it to you," Matt said, "that you have no idea what really happened. If you think..." He broke off as Zoé started to cry openly.
"Now see what you've done," Matt said. "Do you really think we came all the way from England to drown our baby in Central Park, or whatever your Chief thinks we've done with him? This interview is over."
The school kid psychologist looked taken aback. Matt guessed she didn't have enough experience to see that one coming. "Well," she said, standing up quickly, "I think that will be all for now." She tried to look intimidating, but seemed to be failing miserably. "And you can be sure I will be making a full report to my superiors. You certainly haven't heard the last of this."
Matt felt justifiably riled. "I should hope we haven't heard the last of it," he said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "You and your Chief, and the rest of the team, are supposed to be finding our baby, not making serious allegations against us."
"I'm sorry you take it that way, Mr. Rider, Mrs. Rider. It certainly wasn't my intention to cause offence. I apologize."
She looked like a naughty schoolgirl caught out in telling a lie, and for a moment Matt felt almost sorry for her. Well, not that sorry. But hopefully he'd made the point, and the young woman calling herself Melanie might take back a positive report that would encourage the police to take the case more seriously.
Valdieri had been sitting quietly on one of the couches in a corner of the reception room where the interview was taking place. He stood up. "I think Mr. and Mrs. Rider have made their point. If it's any help, Melanie, I have absolute belief that they are telling the truth, and someone has snatched their baby."
Melanie dabbed at her eyes with a small tissue, although Matt could see no tears there. "I'm sorry," she said. "As you can probably tell, I'm quite new to this. But I had to find out if you were hiding something. I may not have gone about it the best way, and if that is the case I apologize. I shall indeed be taking back a report that will make my Chief give this one a high priority."
"Top priority, I hope."
"I can't promise anything, Mr. Rider. Not while the situation in Wall Street is ongoing. But it will certainly be near the top of the list."
"I suppose we can be grateful for that," Matt said. "Does this sort of thing happen very often?"
"You mean I make a mess of things? Or a baby gets taken?"
"Melanie. May I call you Melanie?" Matt felt his English reserve breaking down a little.
She nodded.
"I mean a baby gets taken."
"I don't think so. It's certainly a first for me. Can I see the picture again?"
Matt showed the photo of baby Jack looking at the camera. It was taken without flash, so there was no reflection from the back of the eye. Melanie took it and studied it closely.
Valdieri leaned across and said, "I told Matt little Jack reminds me of Senator Harding's baby. One blue eye and one green eye. I think everyone saw him on the news recently."
Melanie handed the photograph back to Matt. "Oh yes, I did. This baby looks beautiful, and more healthy than the Senator's baby."
"The Senator's baby he is ill?" Zoé asked, suddenly taking an interest in the proceedings.
Melanie started to blush. "My Aunty Jane knows the family a bit. I don't want you to think I'm namedropping. My aunty had already mentioned the baby's eyes to me. I'd never even heard of heterochro... whatever it is, so I wanted to see what the eyes looked like when the Senator decided to show his new baby on television." She seemed to be recovering from her embarrassment. "I'll always remember the joke he made," she said, brightening up. "Well, I suppose it was a joke."
Everyone in the room waited, looking at Melanie. "Oh yes, the joke." She sounded flustered again and was still blushing. "I can't really remember it properly. Something about when the baby grows up he might be a singer, and be known as Old Blue Eyes Old Green Eyes. Or it might have been Old Blue Eye Old Green Eye. Yes, that's what I think it was." She gave an embarrassed giggle. "Oh dear, I didn't mean to make light of what's happened by repeating the joke."
Nobody laughed. Matt thought the joke was in almost as poor taste as some of his, and he looked to see what Zoé was doing. She just stared openmouthed at Melanie.
Eventually Zoé said, "But the baby, he is not ill?"
"Aunty Jane says she's heard Mrs. Harding has been concerned about the baby not being very strong, but I think he's healthy. But please don't pass that on. I really shouldn't be mentioning it. All I wanted to do was to cheer you up and let you know you're not alone with having a baby with different colored eyes."
Everyone looked at each other until Zoé said, "I hope the baby isn't like Jack, suffering from retinoblastoma."
The young psychologist puts her hand to her mouth. "Oh no, Mrs. Rider. It's just that I remember how strange it must be to have different colored eyes. Oh dear, I hope I haven't upset you."
Matt could see that she had indeed upset Zoé. "I still think it's time for you to leave."
Valdieri and Zoé nodded in agreement, and Melanie, complete with her pen and clipboard, made a speedy exit.
"I hope she uses a bit of her psychology training to be more careful with her questions in her next interview," Matt said when she had gone.
"Ah," Valdieri said, "I'm wondering if she knew exactly what she was doing. That was one astute young lady. A brilliant act to draw you both out."
"But she apologized for upsetting me," Zoé said, frowning.
"Of course she did," Valdieri said. "The apology was to make her intentions less obvious." He looked thoughtful. "Did you notice the way she went red when she mentioned the Senator? I'm not so sure that was part of her act. I think she was embarrassed to be namedropping, as she called it. And probably embarrassed to have betrayed a confidence about the baby's health. I can't imagine the Senator would want that bit of information passed around."
"The apology certainly worked with me," Zoé said. "And now I would like to find out more about Senator Harding and his baby. If he is what the young woman called not very strong, perhaps he does have retinoblastoma. Maybe they treated it successfully."
"You're clutching at straws, Zoé," Matt said.
"Matt, straws are all we have to clutch at. Se raccrocher aux branches. A man who is drowning will clutch at anything in the water, even a piece of straw. And we are drowning. We could contact Senator Harding in Washington."
"I always pictured a man sliding off a haystack and grabbing onto the straw thatch covering it. Does it matter?"
Zoé gave an exasperated sigh and turned to Valdieri. "How do we contact a senator?"
"I respect what you're doing," Valdieri said, who was again pushing his hands through his non-existent silver hair, "but I can't see how you could mention the baby not being strong without dropping Melanie in it -- unless of course the baby's health is common knowledge."
"Jack has heterochromia, and even if her baby is not ill, I think Mrs. Harding she will want to talk about the baby. It is what all mothers
like to do. Please help us." Zoé had now stopped crying, leaving her eyes with red rims.
Valdieri nodded. "Believe me, I want to do everything I can to help. I will see what I can do about finding the Senator's home phone number. I still have contacts in the Vatican."
Matt suddenly felt helpless, but at least Stephen Valdieri hadn't cut himself off from his past. Or maybe it was the other way round. His former colleagues in the Vatican hadn't abandoned him when he set up this... What was it? It was like a Christian church that belonged to anyone and everyone. There was a word for it. Ecu-something.
Valdieri led them to the door. "I think you should both go up to your room now. It's late, and you need to rest. I promise to wake you if I hear anything in the night. Otherwise, sleep well, and remember that we're all praying for you."
Eyes of the Innocent Page 16