“The Linworths pay most of them.”
Dan said, “Why the Linworths and not the Ducanes-the older Ducanes, I mean-Todd’s parents?”
“Rumor has it the Ducanes haven’t given a penny to either of their children.”
“Well, why should they, right? Last I looked, nobody gave you or me a nickel we didn’t earn.”
Someone gave me a silver dollar once, O’Connor thought.
He recalled comments he had heard others make here and there about the coldness of the Ducanes toward their sons. More than just a matter of withholding money. Even the other swells thought the Ducanes were lousy parents. “You talked to Warren Ducane-Todd’s brother?”
“Hasn’t returned home yet this evening.” He gave O’Connor a speculative look. “But you might know where to find him?”
“Sure, I’ve a few ideas. I’d like to know what happened to the child first, though.”
“Wouldn’t we all. But okay, fair is fair. Come upstairs with me,” Norton said. “Most of the place appears to be untouched. A back door leading to the kitchen was damaged, that’s all. Point of entry, it seems. Fingerprint men are working on all of that area, just in case these assholes got careless. I wouldn’t lay any bets on that, though.”
“More than one murderer, then?”
“Maybe not. Come and have a look. Don’t touch the handrail.”
O’Connor followed him up the long, curving marble staircase to the right. As they climbed the stairs, Dan said, “Let’s start in the nursery.”
The coroner had taken the body of the nursemaid from the house, but O’Connor still found it disturbing to view the room. He could easily imagine the room as it must have been moments before the woman was killed: a white bassinet-stripped of its bedding-with a mobile of stars and a moon hanging near it, colorful Mother Goose figures on the walls. A changing table, diapers folded below. A wooden playpen, soft blue blankets folded over one rail. Everything neat and tidy.
Just as it was now. Except for the blood. Sprayed everywhere, it seemed, in long streaks across the one wall and most of the floor. He could see long, heavy smears where the woman had obviously slipped and fallen in her own blood, bloody handprints on the floor near the bassinet, as if she had tried to crawl to it as she died. There was blood on the bassinet itself, but not much. A dark, wide pool of blood had spread and dried on the floorboards beneath it.
“What was her name?” O’Connor asked quietly.
“Rose Hannon. Thirty-four, widowed, lived in. Pleasant and easygoing, by all accounts. Loved the baby as if it were her own. No family anybody seems to know about.” Dan paused, then added, “I think whoever killed her enjoyed watching her die.”
O’Connor looked at him.
“Cut her throat, then watched her crawl.”
“The baby was in the bassinet?”
“Mrs. Hannon was crawling toward it… so yes, I think so.”
“The blood-”
“We don’t know yet. The lab took the bedding to test it.”
“So little Max might not be alive.”
“That’s a possibility. Especially when infants are taken.”
They stood silently for a moment, then O’Connor said, “A living baby would be worth more in ransom than a dead one.”
“I only hope they’re as smart as you are.”
“This happened last night?”
“We think it happened Saturday night, maybe early Sunday.”
“Saturday night? While Katy was at her birthday party?”
“Coroner said he’ll get back to me on a time of death, but as you know, those time-of-death guesses are never all that accurate. Except on Perry Mason. You watch that show?”
O’Connor shook his head. He was still trying to absorb the idea that an infant could have been missing for so long without anyone knowing of it.
“Well, I guess if you’ve got Corrigan to entertain you, who needs television, right?”
“Last night, and no ransom note yet? No calls?” He felt his hopes sinking.
“We don’t know about the calls-no one here to answer them. Got the phone company checking on that. But no notes, no.” He put a hand on O’Connor’s shoulder. “Don’t let that weigh too much with you yet-sometimes these guys want everyone to sweat, so that by the time you get their demands, you’re desperate.”
“Katy and Todd haven’t been seen since the night of the party?”
“That’s what we’re beginning to believe. The maid-Katy’s housemaid this is, not the victim-had the weekend off. She helped Katy get all set to go before the party, but she had to catch a bus, so when she left on Saturday, everyone was still here.”
“Where was she all this time?”
“She took off to visit her mother in San Diego. We have that verified. Took the bus back home today, got to the house at about five, and noticed the back door had been jimmied. Came into the house, nothing seemed to be wrong at first. Eventually, she came up the stairs and saw the mess in here.”
“She called you?”
“Naw. Went hysterical, the neighbors heard her, and they called us. She was out on the front lawn, with one of the neighbors trying to calm her down, when we got here. Took a while to get her to make any sense and even longer to get her to come back into the house with us.” He paused and said, “Let’s go down the hall.”
“Wait-can you tell me, did they take the things they’d need to care for the baby? Blankets and such?”
“I asked the same thing. No-the maid didn’t think so, except for one blanket. Probably the one they carried him out in.”
O’Connor followed him down the long hallway, moving in the opposite direction of the baby’s room, almost to the other end of the house. He couldn’t help but think about the distance of the parents’ room from the baby’s room.
He had a different sort of shock when Norton showed him into the large master bedroom. In contrast to the nursery, the bedroom was pristine. Nothing out of place.
“Did the maid straighten up in here before she walked down the hall?”
“She swears she didn’t.”
“Did they never come home, then?” O’Connor asked.
Dan smiled. “Anyone ever tell you how Irish you sound when you’re upset?”
“Dan…”
“No, it doesn’t look as if they did. I brought the maid in here, and she says the room looks just the way she left it last night.”
He walked over to a door at the other side of the room and beckoned O’Connor to follow. O’Connor did, and found himself in the biggest closet he had ever seen in his life. Two sides held women’s clothing, a third, men’s. The fourth was set with drawers-full of gloves, socks, shoes, and accessories, Dan said. There was another door on the other side of the closet.
“I live in a place smaller than this,” O’Connor said.
“I’m glad to know the force still pays better than the paper. Anyway, I checked the laundry hamper there-nothing in it. I asked the maid, and she says no dress or shirt or any other item of clothing that the Ducanes wore on the night of the party is hanging up in here.”
They continued across the closet to a connecting door. Dan opened it. “Now, here’s why you shouldn’t live in a big house if you want to be happily married. The wife can move out on you without moving out.”
O’Connor could smell Katy’s favorite perfume even before he saw that this room was more feminine than the other. It was clearly more lived-in than the other. A hi-fi stood in one corner, a television in another. The bed was an old-fashioned canopy bed, with ruffles and frills abounding. To one side of it was a nightstand with books piled high on it, and a second bassinet. O’Connor found himself relieved that little Max Ducane was sometimes allowed in here with his mother, might have even slept near her at night. On the other side of the big bed, he saw a dog’s bed-almost as frilly as Katy’s bed.
“Where’s the dog?” O’Connor asked.
“Well, that’s a good question. Presumably, with Mrs. Ducane.”
“On a boat? I can’t believe that.” He thought for a moment. “Where’s Katy’s car?”