The Couple Next Door(21)

He has to find the possible accomplice. He will get the Contis’ home-and cell-phone records and find out whether either of them called anyone between six and twelve thirty on the night in question.

If the baby hadn’t been killed, either accidentally or deliberately by either one of the parents, would they stage a kidnapping?

Rasbach can guess why they might. There’s three million dollars to be had. Possibly more. Motivation enough for almost anybody. The ease with which the child’s grandparents offered the money to the distressed parents was telling.

Rasbach will soon know as much as it is possible to know about Anne and Marco Conti.

Now it’s time to interview the neighbors.





TEN


Rasbach stops by the Contis’ house and picks up Jennings. When the detectives arrive, watched by reporters, at the neighbors’ door, they find that the husband, Graham Stillwell, is not at home.

Rasbach had already met the couple, briefly, in the middle of the previous night, when the child had first been reported missing. Cynthia and Graham Stillwell had been shocked into speechlessness by the abduction of the baby next door. At that time Rasbach had focused his attention on the backyard, the fence, and the passageway between the two houses. But now he wants to talk to Cynthia, the hostess of the dinner party, to see what light, if any, she can shed on the couple next door.

She is a beautiful woman. Early thirties, long black hair, large blue eyes. She has the kind of figure that stops traffic. She is also fully aware of her own attractiveness, and she makes it difficult for anyone else not to be aware of it, too. She is wearing a blouse, deeply unbuttoned, flattering linen trousers, and high-heeled sandals. She is perfectly made up, even though someone stole her guests’ baby while they were at her house late the night before. But beneath the perfect makeup, she is obviously tired, as if she has slept poorly, or not at all.

“Have you found out anything?” Cynthia Stillwell asks once she’s invited them in. Rasbach is struck by the similarities with the house next door. The layout is the same, and the carved wooden staircase curving to the upper floor, the marble fireplace, and the front window are identical. But each home has the unmistakable stamp of its own occupants. The Contis’ home is done in subdued colors and filled with antiques and art; the Stillwells’ has more modern leather furniture—white—glass-and-chrome tables, and punches of bright color.

Cynthia takes the chair in front of the fireplace and elegantly crosses one leg over the other, dangling a sandaled foot featuring perfectly painted scarlet toenails.

As he and Jennings seat themselves on the sleek leather sofa, Rasbach smiles regretfully and says, “I’m afraid we’re not at liberty to discuss details.” The woman across from him seems nervous. He wishes to put her at ease. “What do you do, Mrs. Stillwell?” he asks.

“I’m a professional photographer,” she says. “Freelance, mostly.”

“I see,” he says, flicking his eyes to the walls, which display several nicely framed black-and-white photos. “Yours?”

“Yes, actually.” She gives a small smile.

“It’s a terrible thing, the baby being taken,” Rasbach says. “It must be very unsettling for you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” she says, in evident distress. She furrows her brow. “I mean, they were here when it was happening. Here we all were, having a good time, oblivious. I feel awful.” She licks her lips.

“Can you tell me about the evening?” Rasbach asks. “Just tell me about it in your own words.”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I had planned a party for Graham’s fortieth birthday. He just wanted something small. So I invited Marco and Anne for dinner because we sometimes have dinner together and we’re all good friends. We used to have dinner together a lot before the baby, not so much after. We hadn’t seen much of them for a while.”

“Did you suggest that they leave the baby at home?” Rasbach asks.

She flushes. “I didn’t know they couldn’t get a sitter.”

“My understanding is that they had a sitter but she canceled at the last minute.”

She nods. “Right. But I would never have said they couldn’t bring the baby, if they didn’t have a sitter. They showed up with the baby monitor and said the sitter had canceled and they would just plug the monitor in and check on her a lot.”

“And what did you think of that?”

“What did I think of it?” she asks, raising her eyebrows in surprise. Rasbach nods and waits. “I didn’t think anything of it. I’m not a parent. I assumed they knew what they were doing. They seemed fine with it. I was too busy getting the dinner prepared to give it much thought.” She adds, “To be honest, with one of them leaving every half hour to check on her, it would probably have been less disruptive just to have the baby here.” Cynthia pauses. “On the other hand, she’s a pretty fussy baby.”

“And Anne and Marco—you say they went next door to check on the baby every half hour?”

“Oh, yes. They were rigid about it. The perfect parents.”

“How long would they be gone when they checked on her?” Rasbach asks.

“It varied.”

“How do you mean?”