This is the second of my Father stories. Thanks once again to my beta reader, you make my work better with your patience and encouragement.
Finding Lost Treasure
There was always a possibility that things would end badly. There was always a possibility that there would be circumstances beyond the control of even the most cautious of men… and Marty Russo was not the most cautious of men.
The call came in at the shift change, so Lieutenant Marcia Horwich, the night supervisor, handed the assignment to Marty and Tom before they even got a chance to sit down.
"Tell Fisk I gave this top priority," Horwich said as she stalked toward the elevator. "If he'd turn on his damn phone I'd've told him myself; as it is, I've gotta go to One PP and get my ass raked over the coals for a press leak on WCBS."
"That's why I listen to Imus in the morning," Marty mumbled as he scanned the paper Horwich had jammed in his hand. "Tom, we've gotta meet the uniform patrol at the vic's home like now."
"What's going down," Jim Dunbar's voice cut into Marty's instructions.
"We've got a hot one, if Tom and I leave now we'll be able to meet up with Officers Fanshawe and Marshall and get this rolling."
"What is it?"
"Missing child; probably parental kidnapping," Marty called as he and Tom headed to the elevator.
"Good luck," Jim said hoping some one heard him and glad he didn't get this case. He hated when kids got hurt.
"This is the place," Tom said as he double parked the squad car in front of the Chatham Towers Apartments. Officer George Fanshawe waved the detectives into the lobby.
"Georgie, whatcha got," Tom began as he pulled out his notebook.
"Not much, Tom. Donald Wu called in that his ex-wife, Neela Avar, has not returned their 24 month old daughter from the first unsupervised visit since the separation."
"What kind of name is Neela Avar?"
Fanshawe shrugged as he led the detectives to the elevator, "from what I could figure out the woman made up the name. She is listed A.K.A. Rosemary Hammond Wu. The husband won custody after the woman had a psychotic break and tried to drown the child when it was three weeks old."
"Sounds like post partum depression run wild," Marty shook his head in disgust, "How the hell did she get unsupervised visits?"
"Don't ask me, ask social services." Fanshawe took them to the door of Apartment 4B, "I'd've shot her."
Before Selway could raise his fist to knock the door swung open and Donald Wu stared hopefully at the men there. It was almost painful to see that hope die.
"You haven't found Jaden, have you?"
"May we come in, Mr. Wu," Marty asked and waited for the man to move from the doorway. He could almost see the tension curl around the man, so Marty put his hand on Wu's shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. "Mr. Wu, my partner and I have a few questions to ask you. Officers Fanshawe and Marshall will radio in what they have now and start searching the building to see if your daughter…"
"Jaden," the man whispered.
"Yes, these officers will start searching for Jaden and get some more uniforms involved. My partner and I need some more information now. We will try our best to get Jaden home to you."
Tom cut in, "do you have a recent picture of your daughter?"
"Yes, I was just getting it for Officer Marshall when you came in," Wu turned to the dining table in the small apartment and handed Selway a picture of a petite Eurasian child dressed in a pink track suit sitting on Santa's lap. The bright brown eyes and saucy tilt to her head told more about the nature of this child than any verbal description could.
"She's a beauty, Mr. Wu. We'll find her." Marty hated himself for making that promise. When it came to parental kidnappings; hell, any kidnapping; there was never any guarantee that the child would ever come home again.
"Jim, Karen," Gary Fisk called from his office. "I need you to go to 870 Coney Island Avenue, Apartment 1D and speak to a Mrs. Alfred Hammond, Neela Avar's mother. Maybe, if we're real lucky, we can find out where the baby is."
"Hammond's expecting us? I take she doesn't know where her grand daughter is?" Karen gently rubbed her own expanding belly. The thought of a mother hurting her baby was painful to contemplate as she imagined her own baby growing under her heart.
"Come on, Mrs. Daniels," Jim tough voice startled her, "we'll know when we get there." When Fisk closed the door Jim raised his hand and signalled Karen to stop what she was doing. "Karen," his voice was low and gentle, "if this is too much I can get Suarez or Cotton to come with me."
"No, I can do this," she gave her partner's hand a squeeze and went to pull on her coat. "Maybe I need to do this. Let's roll."
The early morning traffic was heavy but the lights were with them and the squad car coasted the curb with time to spare. Karen parked in front of the walled in courtyard and shook her head at the trash piled behind the locked gate.
"I hate neighbourhoods like this," she muttered as she punched the intercom by the gate. "No grass, busted sidewalks, the whole place looks like the set for a bad mob movie."
"Actually, it sounds like my home in Red Hook." Jim said as he checked on Hank in the back seat before turning to his partner. "Can you still see your feet?"
"I am surrounded by comedians, come on funny man, we're buzzed in."
The hallway in front of 1D was as trash covered as the courtyard and when the door opened the stink of stale air hit Jim like a slap in the face.
"Come in, come in," the strain cracked voice of Ethel Hammond directed the detectives inside. "I just made coffee."
The floor of the foyer was crunchy. Jim's shoulders accidentally brushed against whatever lined the walls of the entryway. Then something soft and clingy touched his cheek; he flinched to the left and smashed into dust covered shelves.
"My, Mrs. Hammond, you sure have a lot of books here." Karen's voice was brittle and she was holding herself strangely as she guided Jim into the living room.
"Yeah, I'm a proof reader downtown. All the big publishing houses are right there. I get all the books I could ever want for free. Why have a TV when you've got books to read." The woman took Jim's dark glasses and his hand gripping Karen's arm, "present company accepted. Go on, you two, have a seat."
"We'll just stand," Karen's voice ratcheted tighter. "You're listed as the permanent address of Neela Avar Wu."
"Yes, a parole officer or social worker or whatever she was called once about a missed appointment and never called again. If I knew what Rosie'd done I might have some idea where she'd go. She's never here. My daughter has found a higher purpose. A cult, actually… she changed her name and renounced her past life."
Jim stopped the woman's rapidly escalating rant. "These things happen, Mrs. Hammond, but changing religions is not a valid excuse for missing appointments with a court appointed councellor."
"Rosemary was diagnosed bi polar when she was in college. Unfortunately that was after she married Donald." The woman's voice dwindled down to a whisper.
"Do you know where we can find her?" Jim was beginning to wonder if Neela Avar wasn't the only Hammond who was bipolar.
"What has my daughter done?"
"She has not returned Jaden Wu to Donald Wu."
"Oh my God, she's going to 'save' Jaden. I have a few contact numbers for those nature psychos Rosie hangs around with in my bedroom. Wait here while I get them, but that's just about all I can get you. Don't expect much more than a sales pitch to become a pixie worshipper." With that the woman turned and left the room.
"How can she find anything in this place?" There was a shiver in Karen's voice.
"So, she's got some dusty books." Jim reached out his arm to orient himself and again came into contact with shelves. Something soft clung to his fingers and before he could pull his hand away the thought he felt that something move.
"Jim, there isn't any wall that isn't cover with book shelves. Dirty, fly specked books and I can't see any empty floor." Karen couldn't keep the disgust out of her voice. "When we walked in I bumped a pile of newspaper on the floor and I swear giant cockroaches raced out every which way. There is no way on Earth I am sitting anywhere inside this place."
Jim grimaced and rubbed his fingers, imagining cockroaches crawling on them; hell maybe they had already crawled on him. He crossed his arms tightly round him but he still imagined filthy little feet crawling unseen all over his body.
"I've found it," Ethel Hammond waved a ripped notebook page at Karen. "When you find Rosemary, please, lock her away for as long as possible. If she hurts that baby, I'll kill her myself."
Jim raised his hand, "Please, Mrs. Hammond, don't talk that way. We'll do our best to find your daughter and grand daughter. Just let us do our job and everything should be alright."
"Just find them, both of them; please."
"We'll do our best," Karen turned and guided Jim out of the filthy apartment as quickly as she could.
Once out on the street Karen peeled of Jim's trench coat and shook it with all her strength before doing the same thing to her own coat. Jim slapped and up and down his body chasing imagined crawlies off himself.
"God, I need a shower," Karen said as she started to slap phantom bugs off herself.
"First we get these addresses to Russo, then we head to the squad and grab a shower and then… we burn these clothes."
"We've got an address," Tom crowed as he snapped his phone shut and pushed the nose of the squad car into traffic. Soon the partners were in Harlem pulling up to a decrepit row of brownstones. The boarded up windows and cracked foundations made each house indistinguishable from any other house in the row. When they found the correct brownstone there was a heavy metal door with four shiny new deadbolts that screamed-hey, I'm different.
"I guess this must be the place," Marty quipped as he climbed the steps to the mysterious door. Before he could knock it swung open and a slight, olive skinned man smiled at them.
"Good day, my friends, welcome to the Temple of the World Unseen, how may I help you," a serene smile wreathed the unlined face but did not reach his shrewd, black eyes.
"Well, friend," Marty flashed his badge, "we are looking for one of your people. Is Neela Avar here?"
"Officer," the man's smile never wavered, "Neela Avar is her own person. She does not reside here, but lives with her mother in Brooklyn, Coney Island Avenue if I remember correctly. She was here for morning meditation yesterday and brought her lovely daughter for a visit. I believe Neela is currently a student of New York University and we are very lucky she can give our humble organization the time she does."
"Well, your humble organization seems to have been the last known place Neela Avar and Jaden Wu were last seen. So how about you give me a list of your members and I can ask them if they've seen Neela."
The man bowed his head slightly, "of course, I would be more than happy to give you a list of our adherents as soon as you give me a warrant. In the meantime I will be speaking to the American Civil Liberties Union about that aspect of the bill if rights that involves the freedom of religion."
Marty's stretched his lips in a cold, hard smile. "We'll be seeing you very, very soon. In the meantime how about a nice couple of patrol cars sit right in front of this building and we'll consider it a freedom from fear thing… this is a very dangerous neighbourhood." With that Russo turned and stalked back to the car.
Tom followed with an awed expression on his face. "You can be a real hard ass, you know that, Russo. Remind me never to piss you off."
"Hey, Julie poo, how's my baby."
Dunbar shut his eyes until Russo's call ended and tried to get rid of the image of Fred Flintstone bouncing Pebbles, on his knee. Whenever Marty talked to his daughter on the phone this was the picture that jumped into his mind and it didn't fit his image of Russo at all.
"Penny for your thoughts," Karen's voice cut off the mental picture.
"This thought isn't even worth one red cent." He stopped and shook his head. "Do I talk differently when Jaime is on the phone?"
"Yeah, ya do," her chair squeaked as Karen settled in at her desk. "I think everyone talks differently when it is your kid."
"Jaime is not my kid."
Karen laughed, "And what would you do without him if he suddenly disappeared. Face it, Jim, he's yours."
Before Jim could think of a reply another call came into Russo's phone.
"Heads up," Russo slapped Tom on the way to the elevator. "Security at King's Plaza parking garage has a car with the plates registered to Neela Avar. It is on the top of the garage and the rent a cop thinks there might be someone in the car but he ain't getting any closer than he has too."
"Right behind you," Tom managed to say as he raced behind Marty to the elevator.
The rusty Ford Taurus was on the tenth level of the parking garage, windows shut tight and a large potato shoved on the end of the tail pipe. Suicide by vegetable, now there was one Marty had never seen before. It took longer for the car to fill with carbon monoxide than using a hose, but it got the job done.
"Another pretty pink corpse," Tom said as the body bag was zipped shut, "Ready to open up the trunk?"
"No," Marty took the key from the CSU tech and waited. The trunk had been dusted for prints. If Jaden Wu was in the trunk there was no need to hurry; she would be dead whenever the lid was popped. So Marty squared his shoulders and opened the trunk.
It was empty.
"Thank god," Selway breathed.
"But, Tom, where is she?"
Russo gave himself a mental shake. This was Jaden Wu, this was not Julie Russo. Marty had to act the way he would want someone looking for Julie should act. "That's it; we need some uniforms to start a house to house of the neighbourhood and every store, office, hallway, closet whatever is in this mall. We need people on every door and at the every exit of this place. I want to find that baby."
Police blanketed the two floors of the mall. The sheer volume of foot traffic through the over one hundred stores and the amount of time that had passed made finding Jaden Wu almost impossible, but they had to try. Marty Russo had to try. When it came to kids, Marty didn't stop until the job was done, one way or the other.
Over twenty four hours had passed since Neela Avar had missed her scheduled return of her daughter to her ex husband, Donald Wu. Time was running out for the little girl to be found at all, let alone alive.
Marty sat at his desk, chewing his pencil and looking at the Christmas picture of Jaden Wu. Her eyes were sparkled with life and her smile was wide and uninhibited. This was a little girl who didn't hide from strangers and that thought burned Russo to the very centre of his soul.
"Marty," Jim Dunbar's voice broke through, "you're thinking again."
"Yeah, must be catching, ya know, like the flu."
"Come on," Jim leaned against Selway's desk and absently rubbed the back of his guide dog's neck. "Horwich is back and you have got to get home. Your own kids need you."
"Yeah, every kid needs somebody. Hey, you were there for the Jansen kid."
"Yeah, it was either us or social services." Jim went very still. "Marty, where would you hide something so it wouldn't be recognized as hidden?"
Marty snarked back, "I don't know, Dunbar, where?"
"You would put it among a whole bunch of the same thing. Have you called children's services yet?"
"That was the first thing anyone did."
"But," Jim was revving up, "that was hours ago. We don't know where Avar went to and what schedule, if any, she used."
"Yeah," Marty snatched the phone, "we call social services again and check the hospitals…" Marty slowed down. "They know we're looking for a two year old Chinese girl."
Jim was back at his desk and dialling his phone. "We know how much time those people have on their hands. Russo, start calling."
Anybody who knew Russo and Dunbar would never have believed it possible but they worked together like a well oiled machine.
"Bingo!" Marty jumped up, knocking his chair over in the process. "Thank you, God."
"You're welcome," Jim laughed, "I take it you found her. Where is she?"
"At New York-Presbyterian, the Morgan Stanley Children's Hospital there; some anonymous someone dropped her off at the emergency room about an hour ago. Wanna bet it was on the advice of the ACLU. She's being examined as we speak. I am not even going to ask where she was yet. I am just taking her home." Marty pulled on his coat and headed to the elevator and then he turned back to Dunbar. "Are you coming?"
Jim turned his head toward Russo, "yeah, I'm coming, just to keep social services from getting you arrested for interference. Come on Hank, we finally get to be the knights in shining armour."
Jim was barely settled in the car when Marty shot out into mid town traffic. Jerking left around buses and swerving between masses of canary yellow cabs Marty started to curse the traffic.
"Where'd you get your taxi license, Jaffar, Cracker Jacks?" Marty shouted out the window. "I can't believe these idiots… take the fucking subway, people. Clear the streets."
"Marty, we are not going to do anybody any good if you wrap this car around a street light." Jim hoped he penetrated the tension that engulfed Russo. "At least you didn't call Wu and tell him we found his daughter?"
Marty swore under his breath, "Jesus, Dunbar. I am not getting this guy's hopes up just in case this isn't Julie."
"Jaden, Donald Wu's daughter is Jaden. Julie is your girl. Marty, you can't let yourself get too close to the case."
"Come on, hot shot, how long have you been playing Daddy; two months… three months? Well, take it from someone who saw their kids marched out the door by a wife who just couldn't take it any more that there is no way I can stop this being personal. I will not hurt Donald Wu with promises I can't keep." Marty jammed on the brakes and double parked the car outside the emergency room. "When you loose your kid, then you tell me if you'd rather have Jaime back or your sight. Then I'll know if you are a father." Marty stalked away, leaving Jim to find his own way into the hospital entrance.
When Jim got into the emergency triage area he could hear Russo arguing with the nurse at the in take desk, "I don't care if you're the Police Commissioner. I can not give out personal information without proper documentation."
"Come on, lady, I'm the police," Marty's voice was loud and condescending; "the child has had her picture splashed over all the TV stations in the city. The people at Child Services say that there is a 95 probability that the Baby Doe you have here is Jaden Wu. So why don't you let your fingers do the walking and get someone to okay me to pick up the child."
A very audible sniff told Jim the nurse found Marty's argument wanting.
"Detective Dunbar," a voice at Jim's elbow drew his attention away from the battle at admitting. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Farah Bahar from Child Services. I'm here to pick up the Baby Doe. I have been told she is believed to be Jaden Wu. I know the Wu case was being handled by the Eighth."
"Ms. Bahar, yes, I remember you. I think we had better stop Detective Russo before he strangles that nurse and then we'll see about the Baby Doe. Follow me." Gripping Hank's harness Jim headed to the escalating argument at the desk. "Marty, lighten up, the cavalry's here."
It's positively magical what the correct paper work can do for the anal retentive and as soon as Child Service Agent Bahar presented that paper she had Russo and Dunbar accompany her to paediatrics. Marty walked into the four bed ward and approached the only crib there. Jaden Wu had had her head shaved in a futile attempt to disguise the child and was now dressed in hospital pyjamas. She sat up as Russo approached her, tilted her head to the side and flashed the same smile Marty had memorized from her Santa picture.
The presence of the Child Services agent was completely forgotten by Russo. "Hello, Jaden sweetie," Marty cooed to the toddler. She flung her arms wide in the universal gesture that said, shut up and pick me up. Marty, always a sucker for a good looking girl; did just that.
Jim smiled as he flipped open his cell phone. It was time to finish the investigation and make sure some one got home to her daddy. Besides, Jim Dunbar was a sucker for a happy ending.
Fin