Page 78
CHAPTER 78
MARPLE WALKED SLOWLY alongside a young officer who held the deceased infant’s body in her arms. As they approached the ambulance, the rookie’s jaw was set and her eyes were glistening. She looked like a teenager. Marple suspected this was one of the first dead bodies the officer had ever encountered. Definitely the tiniest.
The baby was Edwin Cade, son of Sterling and Christine. Marple had ID’d the body herself from her stash of hospital pictures. She knew that within the hour, a pair of NYPD detectives would be standing in the doorway of the Cades’ spectacular Upper West Side apartment, informing them that their only child would not be coming home. Marple resisted the urge to race there first and take the brunt of their pain and outrage herself. In her mind, that’s exactly what she deserved.
“Some investigator I am,” Marple mumbled to herself. She felt more like an undertaker. Behind the trees, the team was completing its sweep of the compound. After the ambulance doors slammed shut, Marple said silent prayers for Edwin and his parents—and that no other bodies would be found.
Her phone vibrated beneath her bulletproof vest. She ripped the Velcro straps apart and let the vest drop to the ground, then pulled the phone from her pocket.
It was Poe. In the background, she heard a rumble of engines and the whine of approaching sirens.
“Bill Barnes was driving the truck!” Poe shouted above the noise. “The school bus driver from upstate! It’s all one operation!”
“Where are you?” asked Marple, pressing the phone against her ear.
“On the Goethals Bridge. We were right behind him. He was headed for New Jersey.”
Marple took a few steps away from two nearby cops. She lowered her voice. “Is he talking? Has anybody questioned him yet?”
A long pause.
“The truck flipped, Margaret. He’s dead.”
Marple’s mouth went dry. Another dead end. Another dead body. “What was in the truck? What was he carrying? Please tell me it wasn’t the children.”
“No,” said Poe. “He’d already delivered the kids. I’m sure of it. The only thing left in the truck was a baby blanket from St. Michael’s.”
Margaret gripped the phone. Her throat tensed up too. “So maybe we should have followed from a distance instead of chasing him to death. He could have given us a location! He could have given us a lot !” She was getting more frustrated by the second, and her tone became more biting. “If there had been babies in the back of that truck, the crash could have killed them along with Barnes. Did you consider that? And we’d all be to blame.”
“Margaret, we had to—”
Marple cut him off. “ Enough! You and your machines. Not everything can be solved by a bunch of men in fast cars.”
She ended the call.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78 (Reading here)
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96