Expectant, page 10
‘Yeah, you’re right.’
‘Either way, you’d have to be pretty motivated to put yourself through the stress of it.’
‘It’s bad enough when you’re doing it the natural way.’
‘Ain’t that the truth.’
CHAPTER 25
Jogging was out of the question – neither my belly, nor my bladder for that matter, were up to it. But that didn’t stop me from undertaking the brisk-walk alternative. I’d finished up for the day, but Paul would still be occupied for the next few hours, so it was a good opportunity to stretch my legs and contemplate the mass of information swirling around in my brain. It wasn’t a ‘Dunner stunner’ day – quite the opposite, with the city clagged in by a persistent mist of the type that hung somewhere between damp and drizzle. The kind of mist that would have made our early Scottish settlers take one look and think, aye, this’ll do – just like home. The only thing that would have sold it better would have been driving horizontal rain. Despite the chill, the benefits of fresh air and the semi-great outdoors had outweighed the allure of the sofa, tea and Netflix.
The rhythm of footfall, whether at run speed or waddle mode, had always been my go-to soother. That mesmeric cadence had both a calming and focussing effect. When I was in the thick of a perplexing case, epiphany had often come when out pounding the pavement. It was as if tuning out the noise of my over-active mind gave my subconscious the opportunity to process the vast amounts of input, move the pieces around like one of those puzzle games, where you slid a square around one at a time until the complete image came into view. There had been no great revelations on this walk, though, but the exercise had helped shake off some of the restlessness I had been feeling, and taking in the verdant green of the trees along Queen’s Drive was refreshing.
I paused to listen for any traffic approaching along the twisty road before nipping across to the base of the steps up to Preston Crescent. They were steep little suckers and had an oddly deep tread, so I took them slow and careful, given that I couldn’t see my feet and the last thing I needed was to trip over and fall flat on my face. I stopped at the top to catch my breath and looked across to the playground. Oddly enough, given the gorgeous weather, it was still as empty as it had been when I came down past it half an hour ago. Actually, that wasn’t entirely correct. There was a dog over by the swings with its nose investigating a cardboard box that hadn’t been there earlier. Whatever was in the box must have been interesting because the golden retriever looked to be licking it. I hope it tasted good. Curiosity got the better of me, so I set off up the rise towards it. The dog spotted me and immediately came bounding over, in a ‘hi how are you?’ kind of a way, dancing in front of me before running back to the box. He repeated this twice more, with the addition of a whining noise, and then the penny dropped and I got his ‘follow me’ message loud and clear. His sense of urgency spurred me into a jog.
The contents of the box came into view.
‘Fuck.’
It took a moment to believe what I was seeing, but the significance was not lost on me.
‘Good boy,’ I said to the dog as I patted him on the head. ‘That’s a good boy.’ It took a bit of shuffling to get him out of the way so I could turn my attention to the contents of the box.
Her cheek felt beautifully warm as laid my hand against it, and it was with an immense sense of relief that I saw the little face crinkle up.
‘Hey there, baby girl. We’ve been looking for you. It’s going to be all alright.’ Whoever had left her here had at least wrapped her up warm, with what looked like multiple layers of blankets. They were damp, though, and one thing was certain – I had to get her somewhere warm and dry, and fast. Our house in Rosebery Street was only a few blocks away, so I hoisted up the box, held it the best I could, propped on top of my belly, and high-tailed it in the direction of home. The dog decided to escort us, and I didn’t make any attempt to stop it.
The moment I got into the house, after having to convince the retriever he wasn’t getting an invitation indoors, I set the box down on the floor in the middle of the lounge, stripped off my wet parka, then carefully lifted the precious bundle out of her makeshift carrier and placed her on the rug. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, pulled up my contacts, hit Paul’s number and whacked it on speaker phone.
Answer, answer, answer. It seemed to ring forever before he picked up.
‘Why, hello there,’ he said, putting on his alluring voice.
Charm wasn’t what I was after.
‘No time to chit-chat,’ I said, as I gently peeled away the first layer of wet blanket. ‘I’m home, and I need you to call an ambulance.’ As soon as the words came out of my mouth I realised I should have framed that better.
‘What’s happened,’ he said, the tone of his voice immediately jumping to alarm. ‘Are you okay? What’s going on?’
‘Not for me, I’m fine, I’m fine. But I’ve found the baby. I’ve got the baby here.’
There was a puzzled pause.
‘What do you mean you’ve found the baby?’
‘Aleisha and Justin Newman’s baby. I’ve got her. She was dumped in a cardboard box down at that playground round the corner at the bottom of Preston Crescent and Harcourt Street. She was wet, so I’ve brought her home. I think she’s okay, but we need to get an ambulance here, and you need to get home.’
The wrap underneath was also damp, so I removed it as well. Big eyes were looking up at me.
‘Holy shit. You sure it’s her?’
‘No, it’s probably just another baby abandoned in a cardboard box at a park.’
Jesus.
‘Sorry, sorry. Dumb question. You’ve just thrown me, that’s all.’
He wasn’t the only one feeling rattled.
‘I’ll get off here and call the ambulance, and I’ll be on my way. Where exactly at the park did you find the box? I’ll get someone up there to cordon it off.’
I didn’t think there would be any potential evidence where I found her, what with the wet, and the dog, but he was right, it was correct procedure.
‘Coming up from Queens Drive it was directly in front of the forward left-hand leg of the swings.’
‘Okay, I’ll get someone on to it. Take care. See you soon. And well done, there are going to be a shit load of relieved people.’
Paul’s question about evidence prompted me to lift the discarded blankets off the floor and pop them back into the box. As if on cue, Torie appeared out of nowhere and was showing a bit too much interest in the carton. It took a few nudges to get her to give up on it as a prospect for a nap.
I turned my attention back to this wee, precious girl. Thank heavens, under those wet two layers her clothing was dry and she felt warm. The front edge of her hand-knitted hat was wet, so I carefully edged it off her head to reveal a substantial amount of dark baby fuzz.
‘You’ve got quite the do there, young lady, but we might have to do something about the hat hair.’ I lifted her up, careful to support her neck, and rested her on my shoulder, then began the complicated manoeuvre of getting to my feet. She smelled delicious – that warm, new baby smell, with a hint of shampoo. Whoever had taken her had bathed and looked after her, and I guessed from the fact she was awake and not squawking, had fed her recently too.
I took her up the stairs and into the room that was going to be the nursery for our soon-to-be arrival. Holding a baby and looking at the piles of paraphernalia and mess made me realise we really had to get our act together and sort it out sooner rather than later. But, for once I was also glad of my procrastination, as the bits I was looking for were sitting on top of the guest bed in there. Mum had been on a knit-a-thon from the moment she found out I was pregnant, so there was a selection of hats, booties and cardies from pastels to brights in a range of sizes from teeny-weeny to tiny. There was also a stack of wraps we’d bought. I shoved aside a pile of unread parenting books, grabbed a fleecy pale-yellow one and managed to single-handedly shake it out flat onto the bed. Once arranged I placed the precious wee bundle down onto it. Looking through the beanies I chose a pastel-green hat from Mum’s pile and gently placed it on her head before wrapping the blanket around her, snuggly and warm. She looked like a little baby burrito. I didn’t know that she was too impressed with her new hat and being rebundled, as her little face began to crumple and with the drop of a lip came the first chirps of a half-hearted cry. I knew from years of being around my nieces and nephews that the best thing was to get on the move so I picked her back up, popped her on my shoulder and carefully made my way back downstairs to wait for the cavalry. The bloody cat had taken up residence in the box.
The little chirps from the burrito started to build into an aria. After all this wee poppet had been through, with her godawful entry into the world, and then being dumped outdoors in the cold and damp, hearing her wee protests was music to my ears. I don’t know that I’d ever been more happy to hear a baby’s cry.
CHAPTER 26
The mood shift in the station was palpable. News of the baby’s discovery had spread like wildfire and a borderline euphoria had swept the staff.
I’d been allowed to travel with the baby in the ambulance to the hospital and had accompanied her through her once-over from the paediatrician. The verdict was that she was indeed a hale and hearty newborn. She was well hydrated, which meant she’d been fed. She’d been bathed, and there were no obvious signs of injury or abuse. The stump of her umbilical cord had dried and was looking good. They had taken precautionary x-rays, but nothing was amiss. Dr Harris described her as a miracle baby, and, Lord knows, we all needed a miracle in this case.
The elation of her discovery was quickly diminished, courtesy of Dick Head Johns. I was gutted, and frankly outraged, that I was not allowed to be there for the reunion with her family. You’d think it obvious I should be present, considering I found her and all, but apparently not. Dick Head Johns had felt it important that as the most senior officer on the case he be the one to represent the police as the medical staff introduced her to her family. In other words, he was going to make the most of a photo op and hog the limelight. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it did gall me. He’d also taken great pains to replay the ‘we can’t have a very pregnant officer working with the family under these circumstances’ card. Arsehole.
Whereas The Boss had fobbed me off, when everyone else at the station realised it was me who had made the discovery, there was a steady stream of people coming through the office, ‘just passing by and while I’m here…’, clamouring to get the full story. Regaling the first couple of people had been cathartic, but the novelty quickly wore off. Now the temptation was to run away and hide.
My radar was therefore on high alert, and when I heard yet another set of footsteps coming down the hallway, I wondered how I could slide under the desk without doing myself and the kid a mischief.
‘Well, that has certainly cheered every one up.’
Thank God it was the voice I longed to hear. Paul strode into the room and wrapped me in a big hug. ‘How you doing? You okay?’ He gave me a kiss on the forehead. ‘And I’ve been meaning to ask you – what was the story with the dog?’
I laughed at the barrage of questions.
‘He kicked up quite the stink when you guys left in the ambulance, did not like that at all.’ He released me from the bear hug and plonked himself down in a chair.
‘Let’s just say he turned out to be our baby girl’s canine guardian angel, and he took his responsibilities very seriously.’ I made a mental note to track down where Muttley lived and drop off a suitable reward. I was pretty sure his humans would be tickled pink to know the role their pooch had in reuniting the baby girl with her family.
‘Gotta love doggie loyalty. But really, how you doing?’ Paul had been around me long enough to know I was pretty good at putting on the all-is-well front when it damn well wasn’t.
‘Pretty good, I guess. It just feels such a relief to find her. In the midst of such utter awfulness, it makes it a smidgeon less awful.’ That was a partial truth, and also a bit of a lie. Despite everyone else’s euphoria, there was a part of me that couldn’t stop obsessing on the thought that I had got to hold her, stroke her hair, feel her warmth when her mother probably never even saw that beautiful little face. Maybe it was just the hormones talking, or maybe this single-mindedness was part of my ever-growing determination to get the bastard that did this.
‘I know what you mean,’ he said. ‘In the middle of everything that’s happened it feels like a beacon of light for the family to cling to.’
‘What about you?’ I asked. ‘How are you going?’
Quid pro quo and all.
‘Yeah, I’m okay.’ He fidgeted with his hands for a bit, and I could see he was trying to formulate his words. ‘I guess the big thing for me with all of this is it’s really driven home what I have to lose, you know, if anything happened to you’ – he reached out and placed his hand on the side of my belly – ‘or this one.’
‘Jesus, Paul,’ I said, as I placed my hand on his and gave it a squeeze. ‘You’re not going all soft on me, are you?’
CHAPTER 27
‘Shephard, my office, now.’
I had been tracking the sound of the tell-tale footfalls as they approached the squad room and had been fervently hoping they would just pass on by. But no. Was it fatalism or paranoia that had me expecting a summons?
Sonia and Otto looked up, startled, from their work, checked the expression on The Boss’s face, then promptly became fascinated with their computer screens. DI Johns didn’t bother to wait for a response and continued his march down the corridor.
‘Any clues as to what that’s about?’ I asked. Usually when I got summonsed to the Grand Poo Bah’s room it meant I was in trouble. But considering the events of today I was in most people’s good books, so I couldn’t for the life of me think of anything I’d done to piss him off. His face indicated something had gotten his goat, though.
‘Beats me,’ Otto said. ‘Maybe he wants to thank you in person.’
Sonia actually snorted. She too had experienced the extra-special treatment only The Boss could give. Probably because she also possessed a vagina.
‘Sure, that’ll be it.’ I hauled myself to my feet, grimaced at them and headed out the door, a mix of curiosity and dread swirling in my gut. You’d think by now I’d be used to dealing with the unreasonable attention The Boss felt obliged to give me, but it still elicited my flight-or-fight response. Unfortunately for my career, it was mostly fight. ‘Wish me luck.’
‘Luck.’ In stereo.
I walked up the stairs, paused in front of his office, adjusted the sit of my jacket, tugged the sleeves down, then knocked on the door with what I hope sounded like confidence.
‘Come.’
The thought ‘officious twat’ immediately jumped into my head, and I had to remind myself that I should give him the benefit of the doubt and not assume our impending chat would be unpleasant.
‘Sit.’
I also reminded myself I was tired and that could sometimes make me a little over-reactive. I lowered myself into the chair and took the ‘when in doubt, get in first and ask a question’ approach.
‘How were the Newman family?’ I asked. It seemed to catch him off guard.
‘They were very happy to have the baby back safe and sound, obviously,’ he said. ‘It was a very touching reunion.’ Great for some that they could be there. As if reading my mind, he felt obliged to justify his actions once again. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t allow you to be present for it. The family have been through so much trauma already, I couldn’t have you triggering any further distress for them, given your condition.’ Condition. Only The Boss could manage to make my pregnancy sound like a disease rather than a blessing.
‘I thought, given that I found the baby, they would have wanted to meet me, despite my condition.’
‘That is what we need to talk about. You are a detective now, and as a more experienced officer I expected much higher levels of professionalism from you.’
I did not possess a poker face, so my confusion must have been patently evident. Alas, neither did he and the smug pleasure he got from the statement was obvious.
‘I’m sorry, what do you mean?’
‘Today you heavily contaminated a scene and potential evidence that could have assisted in this murder investigation.’
My mind was still in go-slow mode. ‘Pardon?’
‘Do I have to spell it out for you? For a start, you removed the baby from the playground. We don’t know the exact position she was in, and any traces left by the person who left her there were well and truly obliterated by you.’ He leaned forward across his desk. ‘And then, to make matters worse, you again compromised any evidence by removing items from her that may have helped us to identify the kidnapper and murderer.’
What the hell was I hearing? The fucker had actually found a way to turn me discovering a kidnapped baby into a bad thing. This was low, even by his standards. There was no way in hell I was going to take this one on the chin. I took a very deep breath before choosing my words, and leaned forward in the chair.
‘You do realise this is a newborn baby we are talking about?’ I said in what I thought was a very calm voice. ‘A newborn baby that was wet and cold, and exposed to the elements. I had no idea how long she had been there. Could have been minutes, could have been hours. But we are talking about an infant, a vulnerable, living human being, not an item of evidence.’ An edge of sarcasm may have crept in at this point. ‘An infant that could have been suffering from hypothermia, could have been injured. So yes, I did the only thing any sane person would do. I took her from that wet, exposed playground, and I brought her somewhere safe, and I got her warm and dry.’
My finger index finger had risen and was waggling dangerously close to The Boss’s face.
