27

He had put the plan in motion. Step by step he was now bringing it to a head. He knew it was time. Gloria was getting too restless. Also, he had made a terrible mistake when he told her that it would be necessary to kill Zan and make it look like a suicide. Gloria had only gotten into it for the money he promised her. She didn’t understand that it would not be enough simply to make Alexandra Moreland dangle in the wind to public ridicule.

He would not be happy until Zan was dead.

Last night when he called Gloria, he told her that he was planning to have her come back to the church with him soon, but he didn’t tell her why. She started to object, and he shouted her down. He didn’t tell her that he planned to get rid of the old priest and that she had to be caught looking like Zan on the security cameras.

Zan’s suicide would be believable.

The plan was that on the same day, Gloria would abandon Matthew in a public place where he would be noticed. He could see the headlines already: MISSING CHILD FOUND HOURS AFTER MOTHER’S SUICIDE.

He could savor the story that would follow. “Alexandra ‘Zan’ Moreland was found dead in her apartment in Battery Park City, an apparent suicide. The troubled interior designer, suspected of kidnapping her own child …”

Those photos that the tourist has taken. Why had they come to light now? The timing couldn’t be worse. On the other hand, they could be a magnificent, unexpected gift.

He had pored over them himself, studied them, enlarged them on his computer. Gloria looked just like Zan. If the cops believed they were authentic, Zan’s denials about making all the purchases to her credit cards would only be one more proof that she was crazy, that she had staged the kidnapping herself.

By now they were undoubtedly wondering if she might have done away with her own child.

But if the cops, or anyone else, could find one single discrepancy in those photos, they wouldn’t believe that any of the rest was true. The whole thing would fall apart.

Would they interview the babysitter again?

Of course they would.

Would they interview Nina Aldrich, the potential client Zan claimed to have been with when her son disappeared?

Of course they would.

But Nina Aldrich had had a good reason to be vague about that time frame two years ago and that reason still existed. She wouldn’t want to be pinned down now, he thought.

The greatest threats to him were Gloria herself, and the photos that tourist had taken.

He never phoned Gloria during the day. There was always the chance that the boy might be within earshot and no matter how much he warned her, Gloria had a bad habit of calling him by name when they talked.

He looked at the clock. It was almost five. He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to talk to Gloria. He had bought two prepaid cell phones, one for her and one for himself. He locked the door of his office and tapped in her number.

She answered on the first ring. From the angry tone of her voice he could tell that the call was going to be trouble.

“I’ve been seeing the story plastered all over the Internet,” she said. “They keep showing those pictures.”

“Was the boy nearby when you were on the computer?”

“Of course he was. When he saw his picture, he loved it,” Gloria snapped.

“Don’t try your lamebrained sarcasm on me. Where is he?”

“He’s in bed already. He didn’t feel well. He threw up twice.”

“Is he getting sick? I can’t have him going to a doctor.”

“Not that kind of sick. I put that coloring stuff in his hair again this afternoon and he hates it. This crazy life is getting to him. It’s getting to me, too. You said one year tops, and it’s been nearly two years.”

“It’s going to be over very soon. I can promise you that. Those pictures of you in the park will bring it to a head. But you’ve got to rack your brain. Look at them on the Internet again. See if there’s anything that the cops might notice that would make them suspect that the woman there isn’t Zan.”

“You paid me to follow her around, to study her photos, to learn how to walk and talk like her. I’m a damn good actress and that’s what I want to be doing, not babysitting that little kid and keeping him from his mother. God Almighty, he keeps a bar of soap under his pillow because it’s the kind she used and the scent reminds him of her.”

He had not missed the moment of hesitation in Gloria’s voice and then her answer, first defensive, then trying to steer the conversation to the subject of the child.

“Gloria, concentrate,” he warned firmly. “Is there anything about the way you dressed, or jewelry that you wore, that would make the police take seriously Zan’s claim that she was not the woman in that picture?”

Enraged when she did not answer, he asked, “And something else, exactly what did you tell that priest?”

“If you keep bugging me about that, I’ll go crazy. So here’s the way it was. I told him that I am a participant in an ongoing crime, that a murder is going to be committed, and that I can’t stop it.”

“You told him that?” The caller’s voice was deadly calm.

“I told him that, damn you. But I told him under the seal of the confessional. If you don’t know what that seal means, look it up. And I’m giving you fair warning. One week more and I’m out of here. And you better have two hundred thousand dollars in cash for me. Because if you don’t, I’ll go to the cops and tell them you forced me to keep the kid because otherwise you would have had him killed. I’ll trade everything I know about you for immunity from prosecution. You want to know something? I’ll be a hero! I’ll get a book contract for a million dollars. I’ve got it all figured out.”

Before he had time to answer, the woman, known to Matthew and her father as Glory, had pressed the END button on her cell phone.

Despite his frequent and frantic efforts to reach her again, she did not answer his calls.