I'll Walk Alone - Mary Higgins Clark [77]
“So Tiffany reluctantly said she would help you out, and came to your apartment?” Detective Dean said, her tone level and without emotion.
“Yes.”
“Where was Matthew?”
“He was asleep in the stroller. Because the weather was so warm overnight I had left his window open, and he woke up that morning at five o’clock from the racket the sanitation trucks were making. He usually sleeps until seven, but he didn’t go back to sleep that morning and we got up and had breakfast very early. That was why I gave him an early lunch, and because Tiffany was coming to get him, I laid him down in the stroller and he was out like a light.”
“What time would you say it was when you put him in the stroller?” Collins asked.
“I would say about noon. Right after I fed him.”
“And what time did Tiffany come to your apartment?”
“Around 12:30.”
“He was asleep when Tiffany came to get him, and he was still asleep when he was lifted out of the stroller approximately an hour and a half later.” Now there was no mistaking the sneer in Jennifer Dean’s voice. “But you didn’t bother to strap him in, did you?”
“I had planned to fasten the strap when Tiffany came.”
“But you didn’t do it.”
“I had covered Matthew with a light cotton blanket. I asked Tiffany to make sure the strap was fastened before we left the apartment.”
“You were in too much of a rush to make sure your only child was secure in the stroller?”
Zan knew she was about to start screaming in frustration at the detective. She’s twisting everything I’m telling her, she thought. But then she again felt the firm pressure of Charley Shore’s hand on her shoulder and knew he was warning her. She looked straight into Dean’s impassive face. “When Tiffany came up, it was obvious she didn’t feel well. I told her that I had put an extra blanket at the foot of the stroller so that if she couldn’t find a bench in a quiet place where Matthew could nap, she could spread it on the grass and sit on it.”
“Didn’t you also offer her a Pepsi?” Detective Collins asked.
“Yes, Tiffany said she was thirsty.”
“What else was in the Pepsi?” Dean snapped.
“Nothing. What are you getting at?” Zan demanded.
“Did you give Tiffany Shields anything else? She believes you put something in that soda to make her pass out once she sat down on the grass in Central Park. And you gave her a sedative instead of a cold pill.”
“You’ve got to be out of your minds,” Zan shouted.
“No, we’re not,” Detective Dean said scornfully. “You portray yourself as being so kind, Ms. Moreland. Isn’t it a fact that this child was getting in the way of your precious career? I’ve got kids. They’re in high school now, but I remember the nightmare it was if they woke up too early and were cranky for the day. Your career was all that mattered to you, wasn’t it? This unexpected little treasure from heaven was getting to be a pain in the butt, and you knew you had the ideal situation to take care of it.”
Detective Dean stood up and pointed her finger at Zan. “You deliberately went to Nina Aldrich’s town house when she was expecting you at her home on Beekman Place. You went to the town house with all your sketches and fabrics and left them there. Then you walked to the park knowing that it wouldn’t be long before Tiffany passed out. You saw your chance and you got it. You grabbed your child and took him back to that nice big, empty town house and hid him in that storage space behind the wine cellar. The question is, what did you do to him, Ms. Moreland? What did you do to him?”
“I object!” Charley Shore shouted and pulled Zan up from her chair. “We’re out of here now,” he said. “Are you two through with us?”
Billy Collins smiled indulgently. “Yes, counselor. But we do want the names and addresses of the two people you mentioned, Alvirah and the priest. And let me offer a suggestion. Maybe if Ms. Moreland hears her son’s voice again real soon, she can tell him—and whoever is hiding him—that it’s time for him to come home.”
49
The real estate business in Middletown, as in most of the country, had been miserable for