Page 31 of Dead Rattled
“You have to find the scrapbook,” Everly said, walking into the kitchen with an empty plate.
“What scrapbook?” Ronan asked, his eyes glowing with excitement.
“Dr. Bikini kept a scrapbook of the babies he sold.” Everly took an empty seat at the table and reached for a piece of pepperoni pizza.
“Do you mean Dr. Savini?” Ronan asked.
“Yeah, that’s his name,” Everly agreed. “When the parents came to pick up the babies, he would take a picture of the new family sitting together in the church.”
“Lucy Maxwell mentioned the same thing,” Ten said. “She told us that Kitty witnessed a child being sold and that a picture was taken of the family.”
“Can you tell me anything else about the book? What it looks like or where it is?” Ronan felt reenergized. Finding this book could blow the case wide open. There might not be a way to criminally charge Savini for what he’d done, but that didn’t mean there weren’t civil remedies to be had.
Everly shut her eyes and reached for Tennyson’s hand. “It’s black and long and looks like it’s tied with string. Each page has an old timey black and white pic and writing in white ink.”
“What does the writing say?” Ronan asked, hoping that his daughter’s gift was strong enough to allow her to get more information.
“Mr. and Mrs. Jonathan Bowerman, 225 something Avenue, Boston, MA. 3/18/1955. Millicent Carter. Baby girl born 3/17/1955.”
“Can you see the name of the street?” Ten asked, sounding breathless.
“Yes, but I can’t pronounce it. I’ll spell it. C-O-M-M-O-N-W-”
“Commonwealth?” Jude asked.
Everly nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”
“I hate to ask, honey, but where is the book?” Ronan felt horrible using his daughter’s gifts this way.
“Umm,” Everly paused, shutting her eyes even more tightly. “There’s a library in the house. Lots of shelves with books and pictures. There are cabinets beneath the books. It’s in a box with a lid.” Everly’s eyes opened. “It’s well-loved, Daddy. He takes it out all the time to look at it and remember the good old days.” Her eyes filled with tears. “He’s a very bad man, Daddy, but this scrapbook can help the stolen babies find their Mommies.”
Ronan scooped his daughter into his arms. “I’m so proud of you, honey. Thank you for helping us. All of these families will have a chance to find each other and start to heal. When that happens it will be because of you.”
Everly nodded her head against Ronan’s shoulder. “Thanks, Daddy.”
“Are you ready for more salad?” Ronan asked, poking Everly’s side.
“No!” Everly shrieked, trying to pull away from her father. “No salad, must eat pizza.” She wriggled out of Ronan’s grip and grabbed her plate before running out of the room.
“She’s amazing,” Jude said. “It shouldn’t surprise me that a man like Savini would have kept a record of his crimes, but it does.”
“Like Ronan said, this was a man who felt he could do anything, like he was above the law.” Fitz grinned. “I’m not one bit surprised that he takes the book out and goes through it all the time. It’s like a has-been musician listening to their greatest hits on repeat.”
“Savini might think he’s above the law now, but tomorrow morning we’re gonna show him that he’s not,” Jude said. “Any chance there’s a page dedicated to Kitty Maxwell in that book?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him. Narcissists do all sorts of fucked up shit to remember when they were king.” Ronan grimaced, just think how disgusting it was for a man to sell a child under any circumstance and this asshole had gone and made a scrapbook of his exploits, like he was a parent preserving summer vacation memories.
Come tomorrow, Savini was going to get a taste of his own medicine. He was going to lose his freedom and Ronan was going to be the one to take it from him.
14
Tennyson
Ten slept surprisingly well, as had Ronan. The entire family had been out by half past eight. There had been no requests for extra stories, more songs, or one last drink of water. When morning dawned, Ten got the kids up, dressed, fed, and sent to Cope’s house, all before the sun rose. Fitzgibbon wanted to hit Doctor Andrew Savini’s house as early as possible, preferably before the doc was awake.
The ride to the Savini estate in Marblehead was a silent one. Jude sat in the front seat, while Ronan was in the back with Ten. Usually, under this kind of pressure, Jude would tell off-color jokes to break the tension, but this morning, he was quiet as a church mouse.
Fitz parked the SUV down the block from the Savini house. The neighborhood he lived in was full of big houses and well landscaped front yards. Fitz put on his tactical gear. The others did the same with Ronan helping Ten with his Kevlar vest, while Jude strapped a knife to his thigh. In all the years Ten had worked cold cases, he’d never once carried a weapon. In this instance, he didn’t mind the solid weight of the knife against his leg.
