Eyes of the Innocent

by Christopher Wright

  Chapter 16

  The phone rang in Valdieri's office. He got up from the couch he was relaxing on in the reception room and asked to be excused as he went to answer it. Matt carried on telling Lauren about Zoé's concerns over Wendell's trustworthiness. Valdieri returned to the room looking serious, his eyes fixed on Matt.

  "Matt," he said quietly, "we need to have a chat in my office." He looked at Zoé and then at Lauren. "You two ladies had better stay here."

  However skilled Valdieri was at pastoral matters, Matt could tell that something extremely serious was taking place. With a sinking feeling he accompanied Valdieri to the office. The feeling sank even lower when Valdieri shut the door and beckoned Matt to come with him to the far side of the office.

  "They've found Jack," Valdieri said. "He's dead." It wasn't a question. He was stating what was so clearly obvious. "Sit down, Matt. Detective Chavez is on his way. He wanted to make sure you were here."

  "I'm under arrest?"

  "Detective Chavez says they've found Jack in Green-Wood Cemetery."

  "Someone's buried him in a cemetery?"

  Valdieri shook his head. "I'm so, so sorry, Matt. You need to identify the body. The detective says there's a lot of blood. Would you like me to go with you? I can't imagine what this is going to do to you both."

  As the full implications of the situation started to sink in, Matt's first thoughts were for Zoé. "I'll be okay," he said. "Your place is here with Lauren and Zoé. You're going to have to prepare Zoé for the worst. Try and break it to her gently, and don't mention the blood."

  Valdieri put a hand on Matt's shoulder. "Of course not. I've counseled many people before. Don't forget, my first parish was here in New York before I moved to Rome." He took a deep breath. "Somehow, with you and Zoé it's different. We've only known each other properly for a short time, but my heart goes out to you both in a way I hadn't thought possible."

  Matt turned and gave Valdieri an embrace. It felt such a natural thing to do with this godly man. "I'll be okay. Now it's happened, I guess I've already been prepared for it, in spite of the show of optimism I've been putting on to help Zoé. So where is Green-Wood Cemetery?"

  "It's in Brooklyn. A huge area of parkland with over half a million graves spread out everywhere. Detective Chavez will be here shortly. I suggest you wait outside for him, so you don't have to tell the ladies anything. Leave that to me."

  Matt felt relief to hear that offer. "You need to tell them the police think they may have a lead and there's no need for Zoé to go with me. How's that?"

  "Not good. I think I should prepare Zoé for the inevitable, but without going into details."

  At that moment a bell for the main entrance rang. Lauren and Zoé came into the hallway. "Is everything okay, sweetie?" Lauren asked. She caught sight of Matt's expression while Valdieri was going to the main door. "Oh," she said, "let's go back to the reception room, Zoé. This looks like something for Steve and Matt to sort out."

  Within a minute Matt was in the car with Detective Chavez, leaving him with no idea how diplomatically or caringly Stephen Valdieri was dealing with things back at the church. He was glad the ex-archbishop had stayed behind with Zoé.

  Detective Chavez explained they needed to cross by the Williamsburg Bridge to get to Green-Wood Cemetery rather than use the more convenient Brooklyn Bridge. "We need to keep away from downtown Manhattan," he said. "That hostage situation has brought much of the area to a standstill."

  They traveled in silence for what seemed like an hour, leaving Matt alone in the back seat to churn over in his mind how Zoé could possibly cope with this in her present condition.

  Suddenly Detective Chavez turned in his seat while they waited at some stop lights. "Do you know Green-Wood Cemetery?"

  "I know it's somewhere in Brooklyn," Matt said. "So go on, tell me what's happened."

  Detective Chavez stayed quiet for a moment, then after a long pause he said, "It's one hell of a mess. Some kids on a school trip found the baby's body this morning."

  "Kids go to a cemetery on school trips?"

  "It's huge and full of history. It's also a wildlife preserve. Plenty for everyone to see, but you can imagine this came as a shock to the kids."

  "And you think it's Jack, or you know it's Jack?"

  "Missing persons came up with a match, Mr. Rider. Hair color and body size match."

  The traffic was slow and for some reason Matt wanted to get there as quickly as possible. He wasn't sure why. "And the face? And the two different color eyes?"

  Detective Chavez stayed quiet.

  "Missing Persons must have shown you a photo of Jack. They know about the heterochromia. And can you put a blue light on the roof like they do in the films?"

  "Sorry, Mr. Rider, I can't do that. Forensics won't be leaving for some time. We don't want to tread on their toes."

  "I won't be treading on any toes. You show me Jack, I identify him, and then you take me back."

  "We're guessing it is your missing baby, Mr. Rider."

  "How many missing babies are there a few weeks old with different colored eyes?"

  Detective Chavez negotiated around a stationary bus and the street ahead was clear. "There's a problem with the eyes. The right eye is blue, but we don't know about the left. Everything else fits."

  "What's happened to the left eye, Detective Chavez?" Matt had a feeling that this was a nightmare. The left eye missing. Surely no one had cut...

  The detective stopped the car at the side of the street. "You might as well know now, Mr. Rider. The left eye is missing. And the face is a mess. Okay, I'm being blunt, but I believe in telling things how they are. You still want to go ahead and look?"

  "You mean the left eye's been cut out? Someone tried to take Jack's eye out and it killed him? What sort of hospital would do that?"

  "It wasn't a hospital, Mr. Rider. Your baby was killed by someone slitting his little throat. That's why there's so much blood."

  Matt sank down into the seat. Detective Chavez was never going to get a job as a counselor, but in a way it was good to be prepared for what lay ahead. He had to thank God that Zoé wasn't here with him. Thank you, God. There, he'd done it.

  "This is it. The cemetery has now been closed for the day, so there won't be any rubberneckers around."

  Wide metal gates led from the street to a massive Gothic stone building like the front of a medieval cathedral. The area looked more like an English country park than a cemetery. A police car with a bored-looking cop stood at the gates. The officer opened the gates after checking the detective's badge.

  "Which way?" Detective Chavez asked.

  The bored cop was obviously prepared, and from the passenger seat of his car he produced what was probably a standard visitors' map. An area had already been marked on the map with a cross. "You can't miss it. Forensics have a large tent there."

  As Detective Chavez drove forward, Matt could see that the Cemetery had small roads running through it in every direction. There were hills and dips, with small and large graves, and fancy monuments mixed together. They all looked old. He'd never imagined a place such as this existed anywhere in the world.

  Chavez drove with the map on his lap, and after a few twists and turns Matt could see a large blue forensics tent amongst a widely spaced row of gravestones.

  He felt sick as Detective Chavez stopped the car, and he would probably feel even more sick when he saw Jack. But it had to be done. He now wished he'd brought Stephen Valdieri with him. Detective Chavez reminded Matt of the cops from American TV shows he'd watched as a kid at home: hard, and ready to suspect everyone.

  One of the team came forward, a middle aged woman in a white forensic suit. "Are you Matt Rider?"

  Matt nodded, feeling numb.

  "I'm Bridget. I'm sorry to get you here, Matt, but we'd rather you saw the baby before we move him. I don't know what Detective Chavez has said to prepare you, but this is going to be a serious ordeal for you."

  "I
know. I gather my baby's in a bit of a mess. I just need to see him."

  Bridget put a hand gently on his arm. "Did Detective Chavez tell you how the baby was found?"

  "Some school kids apparently. So who cut Jack's eye out?"

  "Ah, I don't think Detective Chavez told you everything. There was a school party here this morning, on a historical walk. Lots of famous people are buried here. A couple of the kids left the group and started chasing each other round these gravestones. There are always two in any group, you can count on it."

  Matt glanced towards the tent. The gravestone connected to the crime scene would be inside.

  "That's when they spotted the baby boy. They screamed, and that brought some of the other kids running. The teacher in charge called 9-1-1, and that's why we're here. Are you sure you're feeling up to identifying your baby?"

  "As ready as I'll ever be. Do you have any idea who took his left eye out? Are there any clues?"

  "Matt, the baby boy has been here we estimate for no more than two days. It could be as recently as yesterday. There's wildlife in the cemetery. Raccoons especially. As you probably know, raccoons are carnivorous."

  "They've been eating Jack? Is that what you're saying?"

  "Yes, Matt, it upsets me a lot to say they have. The face has been heavily mutilated. We can see identifiable tooth and claw marks caused by the raccoons. Raccoons are the only large carnivorous mammals in the cemetery. And that's why the left eye is missing, or at least enough of it is missing so that we're unable to check the color. We're hoping there'll be some other identification marks that will confirm this is your baby."

  "My wife would be better at that, but there's no way I'm letting her near Jack if he looks as bad as you're suggesting. Let's do it."

  Several people wearing white coveralls were working inside the tent, but they moved out as soon as Bridget entered. Matt stared at the blue sheet on the grass, covering the body of the baby. "Should we be walking about in here? There must be clues."

  "The kids trampled around on the ground too much for us to get many clues. One of them even poked the baby with a stick. That's kids for you. We've finished in here, now. Are you ready, Matt?" Bridget gently pulled the sheet back far enough to reveal the baby's head and upper body.

  Matt took a deep breath. "It's Jack," he said, staring in horror at the mutilated face. His throat had been cut so deeply that the head lay at a slight angle. Blood covered the grass around the head.

  "We need to be sure, Matt."

  "I can tell by his hair. It always sticks out in front like that." He pointed to a folding chair by the table. "He looks worse than I imagined. I need to sit down."

  "Matt, we need to be more certain than that. Are there any identifying marks on his body? The raccoons didn't attempt to get through his baby suit."

  "Nothing I can think of. I know it's Jack, but I guess you'll be doing a DNA test. The precinct took blood samples from me and Zoé."

  "We will, but that takes time. I'm going to pull the sheet right back. We've already removed the baby's clothes and diaper, looking for further injuries and possible clues."

  As Bridget whisked the blue cloth away, like a waiter clearing a table, Matt looked more closely at the white, naked body of a tiny boy. "It's not Jack."

  "We need you to be certain."

  "For one thing this baby's much too thin. Jack has only just been kidnapped."

  "That's rather subjective, Matt. You said for one thing. Is there anything else?"

  "The tummy button. The navel. I do my share of changing nappies. What you call diapers. That tummy button looks like someone cut the umbilical cord with a blunt knife. My wife is a nurse. There's no way she'd have been satisfied if the midwife had done that. I'm telling you, it's not Jack."

  "I understand, but we'll still need to do a DNA test. But for now I'll inform the detective team, and they can start looking for the parents of this poor little child. Murder is bad any time, but taking an innocent life like this..." Bridget, the forensic scientist who must have seen literally hundreds of bodies, sounded overcome with emotion.

  "I'm going to phone Zoé. I don't know what she's been told I've come to see, but I'm sure she's suspecting the worst." He stopped for a moment. Please, God help me. He made his call, and Valdieri answered on Zoé's phone. Matt assured Valdieri the baby wasn't Jack and said he'd be back soon.

  "Bridget, this has really shaken me. How could someone slit an innocent little throat and leave the body here?"

  Bridget stayed silent. Forensics. What a job to be in.

  "I'd like Detective Chavez to drive me back now." He nodded to Bridget. "Thanks. This can't be easy for you either."

  Detective Chavez hadn't finished. From his attitude, Matt knew that the police were far from satisfied that he and Zoé were innocent. Chavez was leaning against his car chewing something. He spat it on the ground. "Someone might say it's mighty convenient the baby can't be easily identified."

  "You think I did this?"

  "We're checking the surveillance cameras."

  "Okay, I know this isn't Jack, but let's say it is. How could we have got him here? The sign by the gates says this place is open from seven forty-five in the morning till five at night. We were at the clinic long after closing time here, and Jack was snatched in Central Park before the cemetery opened. Detective Chavez, you're sick."

  The detective shook his head. "The person who did this to the baby is sick. You say this isn't your baby, but then you would say that. Why do I have a strange feeling you're putting on an act? You've already given blood samples at the precinct, so let's wait for the test results. Don't think of leaving New York. The blood tests are going to tell us a lot."

  "You're right. The blood tests will show that this isn't Jack. Why would we kill someone else's baby?"

  "I've got this thought in my head. The blood test will show that your wife is the mother of this baby, but you're not the father. You discovered this when the clinic did their blood tests, so you decided to do away with the kid. How's that for a good theory?"

  Matt pointed back to the forensic tent that covered the mutilated baby. "Detective Chavez, I suggest you stop wasting time with your wild theories and start looking for the real killer. Check out the name on the grave for a start."

  "Already done it, just for the record of where we are in the cemetery. Henry Mattison, October 1876. Lucky for you the guy's dead. He might have seen you slitting the baby's throat."

  "There's no need to be sarcastic. Mattison. Check it out. There might be a family connection."

  "What are you, some sort of detective?"

  "A PI, but I don't do murders. Just trying to help, that's all. And fax a photo of the baby's navel to the clinic. They'll be able to confirm it's not Jack. Much quicker than blood tests. You can take me back now."

  "You need to stay at that church place for the remainder of the day. Forensics might need you again."