The Couple Next Door(46)

“I don’t think you have to,” Marco says. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s time we spoke to a lawyer.”

“But that will look bad,” Anne says worriedly. “Won’t it?”

“I don’t know,” Marco says tonelessly. “We look bad already.”

She approaches the bed, looks down at him. Seeing him like this, so plainly wretched, would break her heart if it weren’t broken already. “Maybe I should speak to my parents. They could get us a good lawyer. Although it seems ridiculous to think we even need one.”

“It might be a good idea,” Marco says uneasily. “Like I told you last night, Rasbach still seems to suspect us. He seems to believe we staged the whole thing.”

“How can he think that now—after yesterday?” Anne asks, her voice becoming agitated. “Why would he? Just because there was a car going down the lane at the same time you checked on Cora?”

“That seems to be the gist of it.”

“I’ll go in,” Anne says finally. “He wants me there for ten o’clock.”

Marco nods tiredly. “I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t have to,” Anne says, without conviction. “I could call my mother.”

“Of course I’ll come. You can’t face that mob out there alone. Let me put some clothes on, and I’ll take you,” Marco says, getting out of bed.

Anne watches him walk to his dresser in his boxers. How much thinner he looks—she can see the outline of his ribs. She is grateful that he’s coming to the station with her. She doesn’t want to call her mother, and she doesn’t think she can do this on her own. Also, she thinks it’s important that she and Marco be seen together, to appear united.

There are more reporters outside their house again now after yesterday’s fiasco. Anne and Marco have to fight them off to get to their cab—the police have the Audi for the time being—and there are no police officers here to help them. Finally they make it to the taxi on the street. Once inside the car, Anne quickly locks the doors. She feels trapped—all those jabbering faces crowding in on them through the windows. She recoils but stares back at them. Marco swears under his breath.

Anne looks silently out the window as the mob falls away. She can’t understand how the reporters can be so cruel. Are none of them parents? Can they not imagine, for one moment, what it’s like not knowing where your baby is? To lie awake at night missing your child, seeing her little body, still, dead, behind your closed eyelids?

They head downtown along the river until they reach the police station. As soon as Anne sees the building, she feels herself tensing up inside. She wants to run away. But Marco is beside her. He helps her out of the cab and into the station, his hand on her elbow.

As they wait at the front desk, Marco speaks quietly into her ear. “It’s all right. They may try to rattle you, but you know we haven’t done anything wrong. I’ll be out here waiting for you.” He gives her a small, encouraging smile. She nods at him. He rests his hands gently on her shoulders, looks into her eyes. “They might try to turn us against each other, Anne. They may say things about me, bad things.”

“What bad things?”

He shrugs, averts his eyes. “I don’t know. Just be careful. Don’t let them get to you.”

She nods, but she is more worried now, not less.

At that moment Detective Rasbach approaches them. He doesn’t smile. “Thank you for coming. This way, please.”

He leads Anne to a different interview room this time, the one they’ve been using for Marco. They leave Marco alone in the waiting area. Anne stops at the door of the interview room and turns to look back at him. He smiles at her, a nervous smile.

She goes in.





TWENTY


Anne sits down in the seat offered to her. As she sinks into it, she can feel her knees give way. Jennings offers her a cup of coffee, but she shakes her head no, because she doesn’t trust herself not to spill it. She is more anxious this time than the last time she was interviewed. She wonders about the police, why they’re so suspicious of her and Marco. If anything, the police should be less suspicious of them after they received the onesie in the mail, and after the money had been taken. Obviously, someone else has their baby.

The detectives take their seats across from her.

“I’m so sorry,” Detective Rasbach begins, “about yesterday.”

She says nothing. Her mouth is dry. She clasps her hands in her lap.

“Please relax,” Rasbach says gently.

She nods nervously, but she cannot relax. She doesn’t trust him.

“I just have a few questions, about what happened yesterday,” he tells her.

She nods again, licks her lips.

“Why didn’t you call us when you got the package in the mail?” the detective asks. His tone is friendly enough.

“We thought it was too risky,” Anne says. Her voice is unsteady. She clears her throat. “The note said no police.” She reaches for the bottle of water that has been placed on the table for her. She fumbles with the cap. Her hand is shaking slightly as she moves the bottle to her lips.

“Is that what you thought?” Rasbach asks. “Or is that what Marco thought?”

“We both thought so.”