Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 06 Read online

  Marge paused. “What do you want to do with Cindy?”

  “She’s with Rina. You can interview her just as soon as my ex–father-in-law gets in.”

  “Don’t you think you’re overdoing it by getting her a lawyer?”

  “It’s not her lawyer, Marge, it’s her grandfather. Jack was adamant that she not say anything until he comes down. What the heck.” He shrugged. “Do you want me to assign someone else to do the interviewing?”

  “No, Pete, I’m comfortable with it,” Marge said. “Cindy’s a witness, not a suspect. As a matter of fact, I’ll take over the entire case if you want. You still have time off. Maybe it would be better if you spent it with Rina. There’ll be plenty of other cases to bust.”

  “I keep trying to tell myself that. That I shouldn’t be working. But then…” He slammed his fist into his open palm. “Marge, it could have been Hannah! If Cindy hadn’t been with her, who knows? I owe it to that little baby girl to find her. I owe it to her and to her mother.”

  “Pete, everyone’s busting their chops with this one. The case is top priority. Hospital’s sealed. We’re going to interview anyone who passed through these hallways, anyone on duty, and anyone just hanging around. Cameras will be down for the morning news—we’re gonna get the word out about this little girl in a big way. You owe something to Rina, too.”

  “You know what Rina will say, Marge.”

  “Find the kid.”

  “Find the kid,” Decker repeated.

  Marge gave up. “So how do you want to divide this?”

  “I’ll investigate Marie Bellson. Someone just brought up her work file from Personnel. After I’m done with Darlene, I’ll go through that. I’ll also call back Hollander and find out if the warrant came through. When it does, I’m planning to visit Bellson’s place personally.”

  “Fine. After I’m done dueling with the Rodriguez boys, I’ll go over the interviews the uniforms are doing on the staff. Find out who saw what. See if the blues missed anything. How many do we have assigned to do the job?”

  “Twelve—two per floor. Mike said he’d help you just as soon as he’s done obtaining the warrant.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Go over the accounts with a magnifying glass, Marge.”

  “I’m glad you told me that, Pete. Otherwise I would have been slipshod.”

  Decker frowned. “How ’bout cutting me a little slack, partner?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I was talking as much to myself as I was to you.”

  “I know.” Marge patted his shoulder—the one without the old bullet wound. “Just relax and concentrate on this Bellson lady.”

  There was a moment of silence. Decker said, “Do I make a lot of condescending remarks like that?”

  “Occasionally.”

  “You know I don’t mean anything by it. I think you’re top-notch.”

  “I know, Pete. It’s okay.” Marge rubbed her eyes and looked up. “Cindy’s counsel’s here.”

  Decker waved his ex–father-in-law over. Jack Cohen was in his midsixties but still walked and talked and dressed like a young man. He had a sprightly voice, bright blue eyes, and a quick comeback for every remark. He could be fun to be around because his aggression was tempered by wit. Not so his daughter. “Counselor Cohen,” Decker said. “My partner, and Cindy’s interviewer, Detective Dunn.”

  “We’ve met before, but it’s a pleasure.” Cohen shook hands with Marge. “Where’s my girl?”

  “She’s with Rina,” Decker said. “I’ll call her now that you’re here. Thanks for coming down, Jack. It’s probably not necessary—”

  “It can’t hurt.” Cohen tugged on his jacket lapel. “She sounded upset, Peter. Scared. It’s good you called me. I want to be with her, not because she’s in trouble, but because she’s my granddaughter and I love her.” He turned to Marge. “Let me talk to her for a few minutes, then we’ll talk to you.”

  “Sounds good,” Marge said.

  Cohen shook Decker’s hand. “Congratulations on your new little girl, Pete.”

  “Thanks, Jack.” Decker looked down, then up, and smiled.

  Cohen said, “You want me to tell Jan when she and Alan come back from Europe?”

  “No, Jack, if she doesn’t hear it from me, she’ll make my life miserable.” Decker thought a moment. “Of course, if she does hear it from me, she’ll still be miserable. But at least she won’t bear a grudge.”

  “She’ll probably even send you a baby gift.” Cohen smiled. “You want to know the truth, I don’t give a damn about you two anymore. I got a terrific granddaughter out of the marriage, I’m happy. Ciao.”

  Marge waited until he left, then said, “Ciao?”

  “Jack can be kind of Hollywood.”

  “How long did you work for him?”

  “’Bout six months—trust-and-estate planning. Can you imagine me doing trust-and-estate planning?”

  “Why didn’t you work for the D.A.?”

  “Do you know what starting deputy D.A.’s make?”

  “They make more than starting cops.”

  “But I wasn’t a starting cop. I was a seasoned detective. A deputy D.A.’s job would have meant a pay cut. Estate planning paid very well.” Decker rubbed his neck. “No regrets. It all worked out in the end. I’d rather be solving crimes than plea-bargaining felonies to misdemeanors.”

  Darlene declined Decker’s offer of another cup of coffee. “I’m okay, Detective. I’m just…stunned.”

  “Aren’t we all. Everything work out okay with the baby-sitter?”

  “Yes, she said she’d…”

  The nurse lowered her head, chin resting against her chest, eyes focused on her lap. They were red-rimmed and puffy, her pinched nose pink and raw. Slight of frame to begin with, Darlene had balled herself up into something inconsequential.

  Decker said, “I want to go over everything one more time. When you left Nursery J, you claim the babies were supervised.”

  “Chris was there, and Marie was heading back there.” Darlene looked up. “And of course your daughter was there—”

  “Cindy was not in any kind of supervisory role, Darlene.”

  “Yes, that’s true, of course. But she was in the back with Hannah. I just thought she might have heard something.”

  “Someone else is talking to Cindy. For now, I’m talking to you. So you left Nursery J, and Chris was there and Marie was on her way.”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I went to help out at the other nurseries. Lots of babies without a lot of staff. A couple of scheduled regulars didn’t show, so we had to make do with floaters and temps. Maybe one of them—”

  “Everyone’s being questioned. Who is this Chris, specifically?”

  “Christine Simms. One of our nurses.”

  “She was in the nursery when you left?”

  “Yes, she was there. And Marie would have been there in a minute. Then a little later I saw Chris in the hallway on her way to Nursery C. She’d been asked to help out with the weighings since we were so short-staffed. I asked her who was at Nursery J, and she said Marie was still there, that Marie told her she could handle it by herself.”

  “But you told me you passed Marie in the hallway.”

  “I did. She said she was on her way back to Nursery J. Someone has to be supervising the babies at all times.”

  “Someone like my daughter?”

  “That was only for moments at a time,” Darlene said defensively.

  “When you walked me back to the elevators, you left the nursery without leaving someone in charge.”

  Darlene bit her lip. “I do run out for a moment from time to time. It’s wrong. I was…you’re right, Sergeant, it was irresponsible. What can I say? But I wasn’t in charge of Nursery J when the baby disappeared. After I left, there were going to be two people in that nursery—Marie, the head nurse, and Chris.”

  “Who was officially in charge of J that
night?”

  “Marie. She’s the charge nurse of the entire unit. Each nursery is supposed to have two nurses. That’s officially. In reality, we’re lucky if we have a nurse per nursery. You have any idea how much work that is for a single nurse?”

  Decker didn’t answer, thinking about her words. Hospitals compromising care for money. When questioned about the staff-to-patient ratio, hospitals always gave the same stock answer. It was either cut back or close down.

  “Have you ever seen Marie run out for a moment and leave the babies alone?” Decker asked.

  “No.”

  “Never? Not even once?”

  “Honestly, no.”

  Decker said, “Who do you think was in Nursery J around the time the baby was taken?”

  “It could have been anyone working tonight, including temporaries or floaters.”

  “We’re compiling a list right now. These floaters…who exactly are they?”

  “They’re nurses who go where they’re needed. We’re getting less and less OB nurses to work OB. In the past year, we’ve only had three nurses who have had specific training in OB or neonate. Makes it hard to get things done when you don’t have specialists for the job.”

  “Going back to the floaters…are they hospital employees?”

  “I think so. But I don’t know for sure.”

  “How about the temporaries? Are they employed specifically by the hospital, or does the hospital get them from agencies?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you usually see the same floaters and temporaries working?”

  “Some of the faces look familiar. I’ve even learned a name or two. Detective, I’m so shaken…maybe I’ll do better the next time we talk. I’m so sorry.”

  Decker held back a yawn and finished up some notes. He’d pursue the status of the work staff with the administrators. They’d know about hiring procedure. Then he remembered Cindy’s description of the weirdos who worked at night. He was willing to bet that the hospital hired as cheap as possible and wasn’t always meticulous about checking out credentials. Chances were the administrators wouldn’t be forthcoming about opening up their files. They’d probably state that divulgence of names was an unwarranted invasion of privacy or some other bull. For them, it was going to be cover your ass royally time.

  He said, “I’d like to talk to you about Marie Bellson.”

  Darlene nodded. “Did they find Marie’s car?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I just can’t believe that Marie…” Darlene met Decker’s eyes. “It doesn’t make sense, Sergeant.”

  “Did Marie seem agitated lately?”

  “No.”

  “Worried? Preoccupied?”

  “No.”

  “Did she seem unusually happy—like she’d won the lottery?”

  “No. She was just plain old Marie.” Darlene redirected her eyes to him. “I just can’t believe…it doesn’t make sense!”

  “Okay, let me ask you this, Darlene. Do you ever remember Marie going through some hard times?”

  “Everyone goes through hard times.”

  “Tell me about Marie’s.”

  “I don’t know, Sergeant. I found out that you’re Sergeant Decker, right?”

  “Sergeant’s fine,” Decker said. “Think, Darlene. There’s a baby at stake.”

  “I know!” She started sobbing. “It’s all my fault!”

  “Darlene—”

  “If I’d just been a little more careful!”

  “Darlene—”

  “I just trust everyone!” she cried. “I think everyone’s good, and no one would ever hurt a little baby. Who would ever hurt a baby? And now a little baby is gone because I was too trusting!”

  “Darlene, whipping yourself isn’t going to help.” Decker handed her a tissue. “Let’s talk about Marie. Think about Marie now.”

  Darlene dabbed her eyes and told him to go on.

  Decker said, “Do you ever remember Marie going through some stressful times?”

  “At work?”

  “At work or in her personal life—a breakup with a mate, a parent dying, trouble with the kids, something like that.”

  “Marie didn’t have children. Matter of fact, I don’t recall Marie ever having a special someone. As far as I know, her life started and stopped with nursing and God.”

  She asked the moms to pray to Jesus with her…. Decker remembered the gold cross over her uniform pocket. He had mistakenly thought it was a medical emblem—like the Red Cross.

  “God?”

  “She believed in Jesus. But she wasn’t obnoxious about it.”

  “Cindy said she used to ask patients to pray with her.”

  “Only if she felt they wanted to. She wouldn’t ever have forced Jesus down their throats. She wasn’t preachy.”

  “It wasn’t routine?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “It is inappropriate.”

  Darlene was quiet. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

  Decker tapped his pencil against the pad. “Marie was single for as long as you’ve known her?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did she ever mention regrets at not having kids?”

  Darlene shook her head. “She liked the babies, but not in a sick way. Marie was terrific with the little ones, but she was even more terrific with the moms. Helping them adjust to their newborns. And she was great as a nurse supervisor. She trained me, Sergeant. She trained just about every nurse who has ever passed through OB in the last ten years.”

  “Was that part of her job? To train nurses?”

  “Yeah, of course. But she took it even further, ’cause deep down she really cared. She took a special interest in every single one of us. She wanted us to know what it meant to be a truly dedicated nurse. She was a busy woman, Sergeant, but she always had time for our questions. Had time for the moms’ questions, too. That’s why it doesn’t make sense.”

  “What do you mean when you say she took a special interest in her nurses? Don’t all head nurses answer questions?”

  “Marie went beyond that. First week on the job, I got an invite to her home. I was nervous, I can tell you that. I thought it was like a test.” Darlene shook her head. “She was just being friendly. Asked me to talk about myself, asked me what I wanted out of nursing, if I had any problems I’d like to discuss with her.”

  “Doesn’t sound like the Marie Bellson I’ve been told about,” Decker said. “The one I’ve heard about was all business and pretty testy.”

  “Marie could be testy. We’re all under a lot of pressure here. But she really cares.”

  Darlene suddenly looked puzzled. Decker asked her what was wrong.

  “Only problem with Marie was…” Darlene seemed to collect her thoughts. “Seemed to me that once I’d learned the ropes, she cut the personal relationship…didn’t ask me to her house, didn’t accept any of my invites to my house. She was nice enough at work—nice but professional. The personal touch was gone.”

  Darlene sighed.

  “But you’ve gotta understand Marie, Sergeant. She saved her energies for those that really needed her. She’s a true nurse inside and out. And she has ethics, a belief in right and wrong. And she’s God-fearing. That’s why I refuse to believe that she’d ever lay a finger to harm a little baby.”

  “Who said she’s planning to harm the baby? Maybe she just took the baby and wants to raise it as her own.”

  “No, I don’t believe it.”

  “Did Marie ever have any miscarriages?”

  “So far as I know, she was never married.”

  “She could have had miscarriages without being married.”

  Darlene blushed. “I don’t know of any miscarriages, no.”

  “Any abortions?”

  Again Darlene turned red. “Not that I know of.”

  “Did Marie ever lose a child?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “How about a younger sibling?”

  “If you’re try
ing to give her a motivation to steal a baby, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

  “Then why would she steal a baby?”

  “I don’t believe she did.”

  “Then where is she, Darlene? And where’s the baby?”

  “I don’t know.” Darlene suddenly shivered and hugged herself tightly. “I truly don’t know.”

  13

  It didn’t matter what she said.

  It didn’t matter what he said.

  Past is irrelevant. So is the future.

  The here and now.

  The here and now.

  What mattered?

  Who cared?

  She cared.

  That’s how it all started…because she cared.

  They didn’t, but she did.

  She cared.

  She cared.

  Flowers took up every available inch of space—either a hospital room or a mortuary. Decker put down his cup of coffee and smelled a bouquet of yellow roses. He pulled a blossom from the arrangement and presented it to Rina. She took it and placed it on her lap. Her eyes were unfocused…far away.

  When she’d come into the hospital, there’d been a blush in her cheeks. Now they were pale and bony. Decker sat on the bed, then took her hand and kissed it.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  Rina took in her husband’s face—suffused with tension and worry. “I just saw the six o’clock morning news. They flashed the baby’s picture on the TV screen.” She looked down. “You know the newborn photo that the hospital takes when the baby is a day old? The blanket in the background was the same blanket they used for Hannah’s picture.”

  Decker nodded.

  “Oh, Peter! And here I was feeling sorry for myself.” Rina blinked back tears. “I’m such an idiot for not appreciating what I have.”

  Decker squeezed her hand. “Rina, you’ve been through an awful ordeal. It’s okay to feel bad. I feel bad for you. And in all honesty, I feel bad for me. I feel like we both got a raw deal.”