Where is the Baby? (28 page)

Every extra bit of detail he provided, combined with the smell of her uneaten scrambled eggs, added to the cramping in her belly and the headache gathering strength at the back of her neck. She could too easily visualize the squalor in which baby Jill was being kept. And she could feel again the grit of the garbage caking the thin layer of carpet beneath her bare feet, could almost smell the funk of dirty bodies. Her fingers knew every inch of the interior of that van; her nose knew the reek of the mound of unwashed laundry that was her bed. She could hear the tinny music that played night and day on the portable radio taped to the dashboard. And suddenly, arbitrarily, she remembered the time the interior of the van went silent and Wolf looked everywhere but couldn't find any batteries.

Without warning, Toadman's fist shot out and smashed into Wolf's face. A thin whining noise emerged from his mouth as his hands tented over his nose. “
go into that 7-eleven over there and buy some fuckin' batteries
!” Toadman screamed. Reaching past Wolf, he threw open the passenger door and shoved Wolf out into the road. Scared Toadman might hit her too, Humaby crawled under the pile of laundry at the back of the van and curled into a knot, hoping they'd forget she was there. She concentrated so hard on not making any sound that she fell asleep. When she awakened the radio was playing again and they were driving on a highway, Wolf and Toadman talking as if nothing had happened. A big Band-Aid ran across Wolf's swollen nose; his eyes all red-purple.

Brian had long ago told her that during their interrogations, neither of the men could remember where they were when they snatched the baby they called Humaby. They thought it could've been California, or maybe Louisiana, but it might've been Indiana. And they thought she was maybe two years old when they took her. They'd had her for three years. Both men were consistent on that point, especially Wolf because he'd just turned fourteen when he saw Toadman come running back to the van carrying the baby.

Toadman got sentenced to five hundred and twenty-seven years in prison for a hundred and twenty-one counts of kidnapping, false imprisonment, lewd conduct, sodomy, rape, oral copulation and assault. Wolf hadn't been as crazy and dangerous as Toadman. Sometimes when Toadman wasn't around Wolf had talked to her, told her things, like how to be polite to people and call them Miss and Mister, and the names of things like TV sets or tractor-trailers or food like pizza or burgers, and not to be scared of policemen. Wolf never hurt her the way Toadman did and if Toadman said she was bad and didn't give her any food, Wolf would sometimes sneak some to her when Toadman wasn't looking. If Toadman burned her with cigarettes, Wolf would take an ice cube out of his cup of Coke, wrap it in a napkin and show her how to hold it on the burn. And because Toadman had kidnapped Wolf, too, when he was seven years old, Wolf's original sentence of a hundred and ten years was reduced to twenty-five. He served eleven years before being paroled in 1985. After completing his parole, he vanished.

‘The Lazarus parents never stopped bemoaning the fact that I didn't attend the trial,' she said quietly. ‘Did I ever tell you that?'

‘I'm pretty sure you did.' Brian made a face.

‘I was recuperating from surgery,' she reminded him, ‘and his parents actually tried to persuade Stefan to take me to court. But Monica said she'd report him to the police for child endangerment if he did that. I never saw her so angry, before or after.'

‘She did phone the chief,' Brian told her. ‘He promised her he'd arrest every one of them if they brought you anywhere near the courtroom.'

‘I didn't know that. She was sweet, Monica.'

‘She cared about you.'

‘I know.' She was silent for a moment, then said, ‘They were furious that I never saw the tapes or photographs so they couldn't get my reactions to any of that.'

‘Jesus! What the hell was
wrong
with those people?'

‘They were heartless,' she said flatly. ‘They never for a moment let me forget a bit of it. They made me feel as if everything that happened to me was my own fault; they made me wish I was dead. And Stefan didn't help me until I staged a scene he couldn't ignore so I could escape from that overdecorated house of horrors. He's come a long way in the past twenty years, once he also got away from his parents. He's recognizably human since he gave up his practice and began teaching. I've audited a couple of his personality study classes and he's actually a great teacher.'

‘Good to know that,' Brian said neutrally, never a fan of Stefan Lazarus. ‘As for that other stuff, the captain and I made sure no one would ever see any of that evidence. After the case was closed, he and I took all of it down to the basement at the station house and put it into the furnace. Probably broke a dozen laws but we knew there was no chance of an appeal for that Toadman scum. So now,' he said, following the course of her thinking, ‘once we take Mr So-called Brown into custody and see to it that he gets put away for a good long time, we'll burn every last bit of media in his possession. We won't be able to do anything about the stuff that's already out there: the Web and hard-core kiddy porn purveyors, but no one will ever know who that baby was. We'll do everything we can to protect little Jill.'

‘She has Chlamydia,' she told him. ‘Also symptoms of thrush. This baby is in a lot of pain. She needs treatment, and soon.'

‘That means Brown is a walking disease factory.'

‘At the very least,' Faith said angrily. ‘I want him dead.' She vented her feelings and then, as had only happened a few times in her life, she broke into tears. Chagrined at this display of weakness, she pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. ‘I'm sorry, Brian.'

‘Don't be, honey. There's no shame in tears.'

‘I'm a wreck,' she told him. ‘My hands won't stop shaking and I've got a headache the size of Rhode Island.'

He chuckled and reached across to place his hand over hers. ‘I love you to pieces, kiddo. I loved you the first minute I saw you.'

‘I love you too, Brian. You and Jan and Lucia were the first real family I ever knew. Promise me nothing will go wrong, that our plan is solid.'

‘I promise.'

Because she knew she'd be too nervous and distracted to pay proper attention to her patients, she asked Liz to cancel and rebook two-thirds of the morning's appointments and space out the others. Faith then told her that Mr Brown and baby Jill, the ten forty-five appointment, weren't to be kept waiting but shown immediately into Room One.

The only member of her staff who had any idea that something was going on was Fran, her pediatric nurse. Faith had told her there was going to be a police presence in Room Three, the biggest of the examining rooms, and that whatever she was doing when the Browns arrived, she was to drop everything and go to Room One.

‘Start getting the baby prepped for a typical follow-up exam. I'll be in sooner than usual and if you've left patients waiting, head back to whichever one has priority. And, finally, no matter what happens, keep everyone inside the examining rooms until you get the all clear.'

‘Okey-dokey,' Fran said with typical placidity. ‘I'll be waiting on tenterhooks to hear what this is all about, although I've got a pretty good idea.'

‘Thank you, Franny. We will talk. You have my word,' Faith promised a bit breathlessly, then took a minute in her office to try to calm down before heading out to see her first patient.

Her thoughts were scattered, fraught with scenarios of disaster, and she had to keep dragging herself into the moment to deal with her first appointment – a fortunately routine check-up of a one-year-old. It was hard to focus. Her brain, like a willful toddler, kept darting into mental traffic, forcing her to follow at top speed to retrieve it. By the conclusion of the visit she was overheated, perspiring heavily. And in defiance of the two Excedrin Migraine tablets she'd taken upon arriving at the office, the morning's headache had returned full force. Her vision was intermittently foggy, her ears ached, and nausea kept threatening to overturn her stomach.

Baby Jill's screams announced their arrival. Liz phoned on the intercom just as Faith's second appointment finished, to announce that Mr Brown and his baby were being directed to Room One by Judy, the second receptionist. Faith went to her office and gulped some Pepto-Bismol right from the bottle, wiped her damp hands on her lab coat, then went across the hall to open the door to Room Three and whisper, ‘They're here and just heading into Room One.'

Brian gave her a thumbs up and Faith closed the door and started down the hall with shaky legs and knees that felt as if they were going to give out at any moment. She was suddenly a poorly made puppet with tangled strings. Her pulse was in overdrive and she had to pause for a moment, trying to slow her breathing before putting her damp hand on the doorknob.

Baby Jill was on the examining shelf in her diaper and, as arranged, Fran went back to her other patient. Faith had to restrain herself from instantly snatching up the baby. Instead, she placed the flat of her hand on Jill's belly and smiled down at her. ‘How is the rash looking?' she asked, glancing briefly over her shoulder at the harried-looking Mr Brown.

‘I don't know,' he answered. ‘I guess it's a bit better.'

‘Well, let's have a look,' Faith said, removing the diaper as the baby's eyes tracked her every move. Time seemed to have shifted into a kind of slow-motion as Faith took in the thick coating of ointment that concealed much of the baby's bottom. She wondered if it was intended to conceal the evidence of his continued abuse or if he was just inept. She carefully phrased a question and opened her mouth to speak when the door was suddenly flung open with force that sent it crashing against the inside wall. The baby was startled into noisy tears as two men in suits, an officer in uniform and Brian all pushed into the room, with Brian closing the door behind him.

All in a matter of seconds, Faith lifted the baby into her arms and held her close, one hand stroking the baby's spine as Brown shot to his feet in instant panic, exclaiming, ‘What the fuck?!'

The first of the suited men started reciting a list of charges with the word interstate repeated several times, then the second man followed up with a Miranda warning as the uniformed officer spun the man around and closed a pair of cuffs around his wrists behind his back in one well-practiced move. ‘It was you!' he accused Faith, livid. ‘You called the fuckin' law on me? You did and I'll kill you.'

‘Uttering death threats,' the first suit said. ‘That's another charge.'

‘
Get fucked!
' Brown raged.

‘That's enough of that,' Brian said in a low warning voice. ‘You're in a place filled with children.'

‘
you're dead, bitch
!' Brown shouted. Then, catching everyone off guard, he kicked out and connected brutally with Faith's shin. Faith flinched, gasping with pain, her hold on the baby automatically tightening. A rocket of fire spread up her leg, turning her breathing jagged, causing her eyes to flutter closed for a second or two. The uniformed officer clamped one hand over Brown's mouth, squeezing hard; with the other he gave the cuffs a ferocious twist so that they bit sharply into the flesh beneath. Lifting Brown so that his back bowed, the policeman frogmarched him out of the room. Shamefaced, the two other men followed murmuring almost inaudible apologies, leaving the door open. The baby kept screaming, her body vibrating inside Faith's arms, as if she could feel Faith's pain. The terrified cries, the trembling was almost an exact duplication of baby Gracie's anguish so many years before. Faith's hand curved over the back of Jill's skull, holding her even closer. How was it possible to live through an experience like this twice? She stood, swaying back and forth, working to calm the baby, trying to keep her weight off the injured leg.

Brian watched Faith for several seconds, then said in a low, confidential voice, ‘I am so sorry about that. Are you okay?'

Faith nodded, knowing there was going to be a dreadful bruise on her leg.

‘We're going to have to take the baby, Doctor,' he then said in a normal tone of voice meant to be overheard. ‘Someone from DCF is on the way and should be here any moment. You might want to get the baby dressed.'

Faith went rigid. Baby Jill's cries were subsiding and she was clutching a handful of Faith's hair with her eyes now on Brian, who picked up a onesie from the visitor's chair and held it out to Faith.

‘Get her dressed,' he said quietly.

‘
God
,' she whispered, her hands unsteady as she returned Jill to the console and reached for a diaper. She took a moment to wipe off some of the excess ointment, then fastened on the diaper. ‘
God, God
,' she murmured, her coordination gone, her breathing shallow. She felt small and inadequate, hating the overpowering
déjà vu
sense she had of history repeating itself. Despite knowing in advance what was going to happen, she hadn't expected to feel the way she did.

The onesie on, she grabbed some tissues to wipe the wide smear of ointment from her lab coat, then again lifted the baby into her arms. Her eyes closing automatically, she let her cheek rest against the top of the baby's head. Jill's fingers again wound into Faith's hair. Her heart pushing hard against Faith's breast, she emitted a mournful keening that razored away at Faith's emotions, eliciting a reciprocal sorrow. She couldn't bear to let the baby go but Brian said quietly, ‘It's time, Dr Lazarus,' and Faith lifted her head to see a tall, sober-suited, middle-aged woman with skinned-back hair standing just inside the room, her arms outstretched to take Jill. ‘Please, just one more minute.' Her hold on the baby tightened. ‘One more minute.'

‘I'm sorry but I have to take her,' the woman said kindly with a slight smile. ‘She'll be well looked after.'