The Secrets on Chicory Lane: A Novel(60)

The judge pursed his mouth and then said, “I’ll allow it. Please continue.”

Baxter proceeded to tell the story. “On the night of July 4, 1966, my partner, the late Detective Blake Donner—he was my superior officer at the time—and I were called to the home of the Truman family. They were a couple in their late thirties with a daughter about to enter her teens. They’d recently brought a baby boy into the family. He was two months old in July. Unfortunately, he disappeared from his crib while the family was in the backyard watching fireworks. In the course of the investigation, we interviewed everyone on the street, including Eddie—uh, Mr. Newcott. He lived directly across the street and was known to the Truman family. He was never a suspect, of course, but we felt he was an important witness. As I said, he was eleven at the time.”

“I see. And was the crime solved?”

“Yes, an arrest was made.”

“Please tell us about that, Mr. Baxter.”

The former detective sighed and continued. “His name was Gordon Alpine, a man who lived a few doors down from the Truman family on the same block. Some of you may remember he was the brother of Limite’s mayor at the time. We got … we, uh, we received a tip that he might be a person of interest. Based on the serious nature of the crime, we were able to get a search warrant for Mr. Alpine’s property.”

“And what did you find?”

“Evidence that Mr. Alpine was responsible for the abduction.”

“You recovered the body of the child?”

“Uh, no. The body was never found. However, we uncovered physical evidence in Mr. Alpine’s home that the child had been there.”

“But that’s not all you found.”

“No. We found some other very disturbing material.”

“Can you please tell the jury what that was?”

Baxter sighed again. “Mr. Alpine possessed photographic equipment and a cache of child pornography.” There was an audible gasp from some of the jurors. I may have emitted one as well. This was news to me.

Crane shook his head. “Are you talking about photographs? Movies?”

“Both. Back then, we didn’t have computers, you know, so that kind of stuff was all tangible, physical material. Photographs, homemade movies. Mr. Alpine apparently belonged to a ring of pedophiles that traded this material through the mail.”

Shamrock stood again. “Your Honor, this is all very shocking and salacious, but what does it have to do with the defendant?”

Crane replied, “I’m getting to that, Your Honor.”

The judge nodded, intrigued. “Proceed.”

“Please continue, Mr. Baxter.”

“Well, we arrested Mr. Alpine and locked him in the county jail. The next day, he confessed to abducting the child. He refused to say where the body was hidden, and that maybe he’d tell us next time we talked. But two nights later he managed to hang himself in his cell. He never went to trial. However, over the next few days we were able to examine all of his material and trace some of the other members of the ring. They were scattered all over the country, so the FBI stepped in. Arrests were made, contraband was confiscated, and the ring was successfully closed.”

“Well, that’s good news. But tell us, how does this involve the defendant?”

Baxter shook his head. “Among the hundreds of photographs and reels of film footage we found of children in Mr. Alpine’s collection—and in the collections held by other members of the ring—were images of young Mr. Newcott.”

I felt a spear penetrate my heart. Oh my God, I thought. I wanted to scream. My heart began to palpitate.

“Can you be more specific about what the pictures portrayed?”

“The boy was photographed solo and also with Mr. Alpine performing sexual acts.”

Crane paused to let this news hover over the courtroom. Dead silence. Finally he asked, “And did you determine how long young Mr. Newcott had been abused in this way?”

“Yes, we did. It had been going on for three years, since the boy was eight years old.” Another pause and more shocked stillness. I wanted to bolt from my seat, run from the courtroom, and scream in the hallway, but I remained frozen in my seat, riveted by the revelations unfolding in front of me.

Crane: “Can you tell us what happened to the defendant next?”

“Well,” Baxter said, “as I said, we had questioned the boy during the investigation. We took him to the police station and questioned him all day. About Mr. Alpine and his relationship with him. Eddie was very frightened. But I believe he was more afraid of his father than of us.”

“His father? Could you elaborate?”

“It was my personal opinion that his father was possibly guilty of domestic violence. To his son—and to his wife.”

“How would you know this?”

“It was only a perception. I had no proof. I was still a fairly young man then, but I had seen enough domestic violence in the previous decade to be able to recognize certain signs. I believed that Mr. Newcott’s father was physically and emotionally abusive to his son. I reported my thoughts to Social Services.”

“And what happened?”

“Nothing. After we revealed what we found to the defendant’s parents, Mr. Newcott’s father sent the boy away to a psychiatric hospital for a year.”