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Eyes of the Innocent

Page 35

by Christopher Wright


  Chapter 29

  It was the early hours of the morning when they got back to New York and crawled wearily into bed at Valdieri's base. Maybe it was because of the excitement and upset, but they were unable to sleep for long, although they felt too tired to get up. Eventually, at 9:30 they made their way down the stairs to Valdieri's living quarters and were glad to sit down with him. Lauren soon joined them while they poured out their woes over a late breakfast.

  "I think the lieutenant in Boston was sympathetic," Matt explained, "but it didn't stop him taking our fingerprints and checking our identity. The good news is the New York police were able to explain about baby Jack being taken in Central Park, which bought us some sympathy. The bad news is the episode at the Children of Celestial Light came up."

  "I still think they should have searched the building at the Children of Celestial Light," Zoé said. "If they conveniently forgot the black woman upstairs with the baby, who else did they forget? Me, I want to go back there today. We will think of a way to get in. The Star Room of Healing is most suspicious to me."

  Matt nodded. "You could be right, but we can't get in there now, not without a search warrant. We're in serious trouble. Once again we've done something completely irrational, and we've been warned that if we ever suspect anyone else we're to let the police handle it. And, Stephen, if we try to leave New York again without their permission, we're in even deeper serious trouble. You have to let them know the moment you even suspect we're leaving here. Leaving the church building, that is. We can't even go sightseeing in the city without telling them."

  Valdieri looked concerned. "I've had a phone call from the Chief at the precinct. He says you two will be arrested if you pull any more stunts like breaking into private property and accusing the residents of child snatching." He smiled. "But it seems to me that neither of you are prepared to leave this to the police to sort out. You're not, are you?"

  Matt shook his head, and noticed Zoé doing the same.

  "Tell me again about Washington," Lauren said. "I know you were following up a good lead, but it ended in tears."

  "Literally," Matt added.

  "It was my fault," Zoé said. "I was being silly."

  Lauren put an arm around Zoé and drew her close. "Oh, honey, you must've been so excited when the police got you into the Harding's house. I feel stupid in asking, but I suppose you're absolutely sure that the baby you saw wasn't Jack."

  Tear started to well up in Zoé's eyes. Lauren quickly supplied a tissue. "It was a baby," Zoé said, "but he looked nothing like Jack. Exactly the same thing happened at the Children of Celestial Light, and again in Boston yesterday evening. And why did I get the idea so stupid that Jack was at the clinic and about to die so they could take his organs for transplants? Moi, je pense que je vais fou. I think I am going insane."

  Matt clapped his hands. "Think about it. Everywhere we've been has turned out a dead end. My educated guess is that one of those places really does have Jack. Yes, Zoé, Washington was your idea and so was the clinic. But the commune of the Children of Celestial Light and Boston were Wendell's tip-offs. He encouraged us to go there. He really encouraged us."

  "Yes, I see where this is going," Zoé said. "Washington is the one place where Wendell Harris tried to stop us going. I would still be suspicious if Mrs. Harding had not let us look in every room in the house. There was only one baby."

  Lauren supplied Zoé with another tissue. "And you could tell it wasn't Jack, even though he had his eyes closed? You're absolutely sure about that?"

  Zoé nodded.

  Matt felt they could be onto something. "Did the Senator's wife look guilty in any way?"

  "She seemed a bit strange, odd, and she had a smell of death about her. Effrayant."

  "That's creepy. Describe it."

  "She was wearing a perfume that was strong, so maybe it was one I did not like."

  "Smell of Death. Sounds like a poor marketing move to me. Could it have been a strong perfume to mask something?"

  "It does not matter," Zoé said. "The baby of the Senator was too old."

  "How much older?" Matt asked, jumping up.

  "I would think he was four or five months old. Why are you asking? I have told you, it was not Jack."

  "Could he have been six weeks old?" Matt asked, excitement pounding through his stomach. Maybe they were giving up too quickly. "How can you be so sure about his age, Zoé?"

  "Me, I am a nurse. I have worked in maternity and pediatric units. Please credit me with knowing the difference between a baby who is four months old and one who is six weeks old. Anyway, it is not important. I keep telling you, Matt, it was not our little baby."

  "Matt, you look like a dog that's just found a large bone," Lauren said. "Are you going to share with us?"

  "Stephen, Steve," Matt said, trying to control his breathing, "when Melanie was here you mentioned seeing Senator Harding's baby on the television. When was this?"

  Valdieri seemed to be catching on to the reason for Matt's excitement. "Senator Harding was working on a controversial bill with Members of Congress, and he needed public sympathy on his side. His wife had given birth to a baby with different colored eyes. Cyrus Harding, oblivious of any hurt or embarrassment it might cause his wife, called the press and showed them their newborn baby to get a bit of public sympathy."

  "Okay," Matt said. "When was this? That's important."

  "I remember it too, Steve," Lauren said. "It was two days after your birthday."

  Valdieri smiled. "If you say so, sweetie."

  Matt wasn't bothered by this display of affection. Nor did he need to know how old Valdieri was. But he needed to know one vital thing. "So when was your birthday?"

  Lauren did a little counting on her fingers. "Five weeks and a day," she said.

  Matt gave an excited shout. "Just say it again, Zoé. How old was the baby at the Senator Harding's house?"

  Zoé shrugged. "Maybe four ... or five months."

  "Maybe isn't good enough," Matt said, "I need to know better than that."

  "I did not ask," Zoé said. "If I knew it was important, I would have asked. There, does that satisfy you, Monsieur Detective?"

  "Is there any way the baby at the Senator Harding's house could have been five weeks old?"

  "No. Babies change a lot from the moment they are born. I still do not see why that is important, because I know it was not Jack."

  Lauren seemed to understand, and so did Valdieri. The ex-archbishop was running his hands through his short hair in excitement.

  "Sorry, Zoé," Matt said. "I just needed to be sure."

  Zoé looked puzzled. "Sure of what?"

  "Don't you see? It's like Boston. No mother can have a baby who's five weeks old and another who is four or five months old. The baby Mrs. Harding showed you wasn't hers."

  Zoé said, "Are you suggesting that the Hardings are snatching babies?"

  "No," Matt said, "only one. For some reason they've managed to replace their baby with Jack because of his heterochromia, and because he's about the same age."

  "So, Matt, where is their own baby?" Valdieri asked.

  "Dead."

  Zoé gasped. "I told you the casket was not for their dog. Perhaps their baby died, and now Jack has died too. It is Jack who is buried in the casket."

  Matt put his arms firmly around Zoé. "That's what we need to find out."

  "So who was the baby Zoé saw?" Lauren asked.

  "No idea," Matt said. "Probably a baby she's looking after for someone, or maybe one she borrowed from a friend if she knew we were coming. All I know is that it can't have been the Harding's baby. The age is wrong."

  Valdieri shook his head. "I'm sorry to point this out, but the police in Washington definitely won't agree to being involved again. You've had your one strike, as they say, and now you're out. My friend in the police says Senator Harding has raised one almighty stink."

  "We don't need the police," Matt said.

  A gleam of und
erstanding came into Valdieri's eye. "I cannot possibly be involved. In fact, it's better if I do not even know what you're planning to do. Remember, I have to agree to monitor your movements."

  Lauren looked puzzled. "What are you planning to do, Matt?"

  "That's easy," he said. "Dig up the casket and look inside."

 

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