Willow Pond (17 page)

“Where’s your traveling companion?”

“Right over there.” He grinned. “But that’s not who you’re looking for, is it?”

“Pretty slick. Virginia’s well on her way to Portland by now, isn’t she?”

Jaeger tried to grab Erich’s arm as he walked away, but he didn’t go after him.

The police commissioner and Virginia Kingsley. Very interesting. Just how close were they? Close enough to help her slip a tail. God knew how much more.

***

Draper’s Inn was an eighteenth century Victorian house, situated off a well-traveled road and down a small embankment. Not the ideal place to hide the most famous kidnapped child in the world.

Virginia went into the office and rang the bell on the counter. She had to ring it two more times before a middle-aged woman emerged from a back room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

As she spoke, Virginia played noisily with a twenty-dollar bill between her fingers. “I’m looking for a man and a woman and a little boy about two years old.”

The woman glanced from Virginia to the twenty, but shook her head. Virginia put the twenty down on the counter and slid it toward her.

“The child’s blond, fair-skinned with curly hair,” Virginia said. “The man’s tall and dark haired. I’m not sure what the woman looks like.”

The woman opened a file box, took out a card and handed it to her. “She’s the only woman who’s stayed here during the last few weeks with a child that young. No man, though.”

Virginia studied the signature. Maggie Pierce. Round letters, neat and even. Then she looked at the date: 15/6/30. Europeans always put the date in front of the month. Even after living here for thirty years Virginia still found herself writing it that way at times. What did that mean? Was this just a mother and a child traveling, or had Rudy ditched them?

“When did she leave?”

“Around eleven o’clock last night.”

“Did you see the little boy?”

“No. Told me she had a son and he needed a crib.”

The woman reached for the card but Virginia pulled her hand away. “I must keep this.”

“No, don’t. My husband—”

“I’ll make it easy for you.” Virginia pushed the twenty dollar bill closer to her. “For your trouble. And a look at the room.”

The woman stuffed the twenty into the pocket of her bathrobe and grabbed a key from the hook on the back wall. “Follow me.”

They walked up a flight of stairs and the woman opened the second door on the right. “You can go in by yourself. I got stuff to do.”

Virginia walked into the little white room and glanced around. The aroma of pine permeated the air. Centered on the wall facing the door was a double bed covered with a faded hand-stitched quilt. No crib. She searched the dresser and the night table and found nothing apart from a Bible. Nothing hid under the bed or dresser but dust.

There were a few unopened Band-Aids someone had left behind in the medicine chest, but nothing else. In the end, all she took away from crawling around on the bathroom floor were sore knees and an unpleasant odor that lingered in her nostrils long after she left.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Ben Wilson was surprised to get a call from the warden at Sing Sing. He told Wilson an inmate named Dan Molloy had been asking to see him for weeks. The warden had ignored Molloy at first, but the inmate kept insisting it was important for Wilson to pay him a visit. Molloy refused to tell the warden why. He said he would tell them when Wilson arrived at the prison.

At first Wilson refused to go, saying he wasn’t interested in playing games with some two-bit con. He wanted Molloy to be be more specific about why he wanted to see him. Probably just wanted to squeal on someone on the outside so he could get his sentence reduced. The warden relayed the detective’s message to Molloy, but the inmate insisted he didn’t want any favors and refused to say any more.

Detective Wilson finally relented. His meeting with Dan Molloy took place in the warden’s office. When Molloy walked in, shackled and in handcuffs, Wilson was shocked by his gauntness. Something was wrong with the man.

“If you need me, the guard stationed outside will know where I am,” the warden said.

He closed the door behind him, leaving Ben Wilson and Dan Molloy alone. Despite his thirty years on the force, Wilson was never comfortable around criminals.

“You’d better not be wasting my time, Molloy.”

“Do I look like I have any time to waste?”

“No, but …”

“Doctor told me I’d be dead by this time next month. Cancer. I gotta tell you what I know now before it’s too late.”

Wilson looked him in the eye, suspicious. He was so jaded he couldn’t even trust a dying convict. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”

“The Austin kidnapping. Is that important enough for you?”

“What do you know about it?”

“I know who the kidnapper is.”

Wilson saw the prisoner in a new light, but tried not to let his excitement show. If this were true, Wilson would solve the Austin kidnapping. One step at a time, he admonished himself. “Where did you get your information from?”

“A woman came to see me a couple of months ago. Just before I found out about the big C.”

“Who was it?”

“You know who I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Sure you do. Think about it.”

It took a matter of seconds for him to realize who Dan Molloy was talking about. But was he telling the truth? He couldn’t believe she was the kidnapper. No, it had to be someone else.

“Virginia Kingsley?”

Molloy just smiled.

***

A terrible thunderstorm knocked out power in Manhattan on the West Side the night before. By ten o’clock the next morning, when Wilson pulled up in front of Bacchanal, it still hadn’t been restored. He wondered if anyone would be there and was surprised when a young man came to the door.

The detective pushed past him and headed for Virginia’s office, but when he turned around the young man was still right behind him. Wilson ignored him and knocked on Virginia’s door, waiting for her to respond.

“Let me in, Miss Kingsley. I’m not going away.”

She flung the door open. “Wilson. Are you here to waste more of my time?”

He strode past her, into her office, and sat on the sofa. “I think you’ll find what I have to say very interesting.” They glared at each other. “Close the door,” he said.

Virginia crossed her arms over her chest. “I should throw you the hell out of here.”

“You know where that’ll land you.”

Harry Davis came to the door and she spoke privately with him. She patted his hand and he walked away, tossing Wilson a backward glance filled with warning as he went. A few minutes later Harry returned and sat in a chair right outside her door.

“Everyone sure is protective of you around here.”

“Does that bother you?”

He smirked. “It’s like you’re one big, happy family.”

“Tell me what you’re doing here, Wilson. By any chance are you still investigating my nephew’s kidnapping?”

“Sure am.”

“You haven’t told me why you’re here.” She chuckled. “A bit of socializing, perhaps?”

Wilson puffed on his cigar. “Is the name Dan Molloy familiar to you?”

“Nope.”

“You never went to see him in Sing Sing?”

“That’s right.”

“Never told him you know who kidnapped Todd?”

She shook her head. “If I knew that I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you. I’d be out trying to find him.”

“Been out of town a lot lately, haven’t you?”

“Keeping tabs on me, Detective? I’ve always liked to travel. I’m not doing it any more now than I usually do.”

Wilson scratched his chin, skeptical. “Why would Molloy lie about this? He has nothing to gain.”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“I am. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

It had taken time to become accustomed to using another name, but once she did, the transition from Nancy Evans to Maggie Pierce was much easier than anything else going on in her life.

In late July, she drove down a narrow road in Vandalia, Ohio with the radio on and the little boy sitting next to her, humming along with the music. He was such a good-natured child. Maggie was so tired of driving and being on the road. All she wanted to do was lay her head on a soft pillow and sleep for days.

While they idled at a stoplight, waiting for it to change, a couple of hobos shuffled into the street and knocked on her door. She waved them away. She didn’t have a dime to spare. One of them stared in the window at the child beside her, looking puzzled. As soon as the light changed, she sped away. Everywhere she went, suspicious people watched her. She had to find a way to disguise the little boy’s appearance.

Despite all the problems he presented, he was a delightful baby. He was sweet and loving, and she’d come to think of him as her own. He snuggled up to her while she read him a story or sang him a lullaby, and she realized even at his young age he understood her feelings. When he’d started calling her Mommy, it had filled her with love. She hoped he was young enough to forget he’d once had another mother.

At first, keeping food in their stomachs and a roof over their heads was almost impossible. She drove from town to town in upstate New York, searching for somewhere to go. Most of the time they lived in the car, which was hard on the child, and as a result he was cranky much of the time. She tried her best to comfort him, but most of the time he’d turn away from her and cry himself to sleep. Watching him broke her heart.

Occasionally she found a room for them where no one stared and they’d stay a few days, but never longer. Over time she began to wonder if anyone really was suspicious or if it was all her imagination. When she found an inn in Falmouth, Maine that she liked, she decided to look for work around there. But when she returned and was told a tall, dark-haired woman had been looking for her, she knew she couldn’t let her guard down. They’d hit the road again and alternated living in the car with crashing in rooms in out-of-the-way places.

One morning they passed the border into Ohio and she knew she had to find a way for them to settle, at least temporarily. If she got a job and changed his appearance, no one would take much notice of either him or her. There was no way she could settle here for good because she had other plans, but in order for those plans to work out she needed to save some money.

When she reached Vandalia, Ohio, she knew it was the right place. Remembering the incident with the two hobos, she drove a short distance until she saw a sign for an employment agency. She parked the car and locked it, then went inside a brick building and was told to fill out an application. Less than ten minutes later a tiny woman in a dark blue dress called Maggie into her office.

“I’ll take any job you have available.”

The woman sniffed and shook her head as she looked over the papers in her file. “There isn’t much. All I have right now is a job cleaning offices from seven-thirty in the evening until three in the morning.”

Taking that job would mean the little boy would be alone for those hours and that frightened her. But what choice did she have? The money was almost gone. If she took this job, they might be able to stop running.

“I’ll take it.”

“Do you have any experience? You list experience as a salesgirl, not a cleaning woman.”

“What woman doesn’t know how to vacuum and dust and mop? I was seven years old when my mum got sick and I took over running the house until she got better, which wasn’t for two years.”

The woman nodded. “You can start tomorrow.” She wrote an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Maggie. “You and another girl will be responsible for cleaning all twenty offices in this building. I wrote down the name of your supervisor and you are to report to her at six o’clock tomorrow evening.”

Maggie beamed and extended her hand. “You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you.”

She found rooms at Vandalia Boarding House, which was within walking distance of her job. Their accommodations consisted of two rooms, a combination sitting room and kitchen, plus a large bedroom and full bath. The kitchen had a drop leaf table, hot plate and icebox. It suited her needs just fine. Apart from the nosiness of the owner, Mary Flay, she dared to hope her luck might be changing.

After a few days she settled into a routine. Even though she’d only slept a few hours, she forced herself to get up at seven in the morning and feed the child breakfast: cereal and fruit. Then she’d let him play until eleven o’clock, when she’d put him down for a nap and take one herself. At one in the afternoon they ate a big lunch, and afterwards she kept him as active as possible so he’d be ready for his bath, a quick dinner and bed by quarter to seven. By the time she left for work, he was always fast asleep.

One evening, just as she was leaving, she heard a knock on the door. Maggie didn’t answer it in the hopes whoever it was would go away, but the knocking persisted. When she eventually opened the door to leave, she found Mary Flay standing there with her hands on her hips. Her expression was always haughty. That annoyed Maggie. Mary kind of reminded her of a stork, all skinny with legs almost up to her neck.

“On your way to work, Maggie?”

“Yes, and I’m late. I need to hurry.”

Maggie headed down the stairs and Mary followed her. Another boarder, a middle-aged man, smiled at them and walked into the main sitting room where he joined some of the other boarders. They were playing checkers and listening to the radio.

“Maggie, I came upstairs to ask why you never join us for dinner and to insist you join us on Sunday. It’s at six promptly and I’m serving lamb stew, everyone’s favorite. Believe me, you won’t be disappointed. Can I count on you?”

Mary was quite a busybody. Maggie didn’t like people who thought everyone else’s business was theirs. She also didn’t like lamb stew. It made her think of some of the nauseating concoctions her mother had passed off as food.