Overture to Murder, page 24
“I can’t, Mama. I promised to keep that a secret.”
“Promised who, my darling?” Julia was frantic. “Promised who?”
The line went dead. Shaken to her roots, Julia collapsed on the sofa, heaving with sobs. Larry hurried over, sat down, and wrapped his arms around her. She felt she would shatter into pieces were he not holding her together.
Will strode over to Julia. “We almost had him. We’ll get him next time, I’m sure.”
Distraught and hopeless, Julia did not react.
“We could use some good news, Will,” Larry said. “Julia’s falling apart here.”
“There’s both good and bad. Which do you want first?”
“Which do you think?”
“Okay, I’ll start with the bad. Team coordinator has heard from headquarters. Amber alerts and monitoring of bus, train, and BART stations have yielded no results. However…” Will paused. “That could mean that Rebecca is still somewhere in the city, which is good news. Past cases have shown abductors often hide their victims in locations with which they’re familiar. So, I need to ask you, did Rebecca have any favorite places? Ones that are remote, where her abductor could hold her captive without anyone catching a glimpse of them?”
Larry thought for a moment. “She loved exploring the Presidio. Crissy Field especially.”
“I’ll tell the investigating team. The Presidio’s fifteen hundred acres are a broad net to cast, but worth the effort,” Will said. “Crissy Field is wide open, however. Not easy to hide out there.”
“The Hidden Presidio Outdoor Track that begins at the Julius Kahn playground is out of the way,” Larry said. “There are other places kids manage to find that grownups don’t notice.”
Julia willed herself to be calm. “If…if I come with you, I could point them out.”
“We’ll get right on it,” Will said. “You stay here with the Command Post team. A call or text can come in at any time.”
“He’s right, Julia.” Larry leaned over Will and whispered in his ear. “If you would, please tell the team to turn the TV and radio news off, to keep it out of Julia’s earshot. She needs a break from the sensationalism.”
Will nodded. “Of course.”
Julia tuned out their exchange. Her head told her they both were being reasonable. But her heart was with Rebecca. Wherever it was, that was where she wanted and needed to be.
* * *
The ancient fortress at Fort Point was a dreary place, but for a five-year-old alone and locked up in a gloomy cell-like chamber high above the ground, it was terrifying. This was not the part of the fortress that had fascinated her when she was with her parents. It was the creepy, decrepit part.
Rebecca felt like Rapunzel, locked away from the world familiar to her, frightened of the alien realm in which she found herself. She wondered why she was being left alone and why her parents had not come to free her from her prison. She wished she had long hair like Rapunzel’s so someone could climb up her tresses and rescue her.
Her only comfort was her miniature music box, which she played over and over. She knew the “Ride of the Valkyries” by heart and sang along with it to bolster her courage. She wished she had her Wotan and Brünnhilde keychain to play with, but Carlton had taken it away from her, though he would not tell her why or where he had put it. She tried to imagine herself a brave Brünnhilde, conquering any challenge or crisis. That is how she survived.
Though the small square window carved into the brick wall that concealed her whereabouts from the outside world was boarded up, there was a narrow chink through which she could see a vague outline of the south anchorage and gigantic concrete pilings of the Golden Gate Bridge outside. She studied every detail of the structure that she could make out and could recognize what an imposing edifice it was. In her optimistic moments, she thought she might be an architect when she grew up, so she could create a structure that might change the world as she imagined this one had done.
Rebecca was feeling annoyed at Carlton as well. She had asked him numerous times why he had brought her here and kept her hidden away from her mother and father, but he never replied. He came with food every so often and then abandoned her.
She hated being alone. At home, it was different. She had her books and games and stuffies to keep her company. Here, there were no books or games, or her Brünnhilde bear or her keychain to cheer her up. Just a sleeping bag, a battery-operated camping lamp, and the music box. But whenever she played it when Carlton was there, he would make her stop because it aggravated him. Not her singing—he praised her voice—it was the tune he disliked. She had asked him why several times, but he refused to tell her.
Rebecca was determined not to give in to her fear and loneliness. She resolved to get through this ordeal by singing the “Ride of the Valkyries,” pretending she was riding Brünnhilde’s horse and, like a true Valkyrie, using her imaginary sword and shield to fight this battle. She knew, deep down, that her Mama and Daddy would come and release her. She just wished it would be soon.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Fricka
Nur Wonne schafft dir, was mich erschreckt
What brings you only joy, horrifies me
Wagner, Das Rheingold, Scene Two
Schwertleite
Wurmes-Gestalt schuf sich der Wilde:
in einer Höhle hütet er Alberichs Reif!
There, in the form of a dread dragon, the beast himself:
Dwelling in a cave he guards Alberich’s jewel!
Wagner, Die Walküre, Act Three
The Presidio was overrun with FBI agents and police officers who combed the area looking for clues to Rebecca’s whereabouts. In addition, the authorities had pursued hundreds of tips resulting from Julia’s televised plea, watched dozens of surveillance videos and recruited countless volunteers to aid in their massive ground search.
Julia had insisted on joining forces with Taylor, Cristina, the FBI, and SFPD to ramp up the hunt for Rebecca. She convinced Will that both she and Larry could intensify the search by showing the team the places they had seen with their daughter.
But every time Julia spied one of the “DANGER: Rip Currents. PEOPLE HAVE DROWNED” signs posted on fences throughout the coastal areas of the park, she quaked with fear.
What if Rebecca tried to escape her abductor by running off somewhere along the water’s edge?
Julia was aware that the most beautiful spots were some of the most perilous. She had read an article in the San Francisco Examiner about a young boy who drowned while attempting to swim in the water near Crissy Field. The article said bystanders attempted to help, but he vanished under the waves before they could grab hold of him.
This story filled her with terror. She feared if she told Larry the story and showed her true emotions to him, he would start asking her questions and show more concern for her welfare than she could bear. In her current state of self-reproach, that was something she knew she couldn’t handle. Not that she wasn’t grateful for his solicitousness. She was astonished he hadn’t belittled her for her role in this dreadful scenario and tortured herself with self-critical thoughts: perhaps, if Larry had taken Rebecca back to New York as he had threatened to do, none of this would have happened.
Nonetheless, Julia knew she had to keep calm, to focus on the task before her: finding Rebecca and returning her to safety.
* * *
It had been a long time since Carlton’s last visit, and Rebecca was troubled. What if he was never coming back? How would she survive? How would she get out of here? It was a long way down from this chamber to the ground. She could never climb that far.
She cranked the handle of her music box faster and faster, singing along with it louder and louder, becoming agitated with every note.
“Dah dah-dah-dah dah dah…”
Please come back, Carlton. I promise I won’t be mad at you anymore.
To Rebecca’s relief, she heard the key turn in the lock and looked up. Carlton approached her, holding a large grocery bag with a picture of a dragon printed on it that read, “China Café, Grant Avenue, San Francisco.”
“This Chinese restaurant has the best egg foo young in Chinatown—” Carlton stopped abruptly. “You know how much I hate that music. Didn’t I tell you not to play or sing it? Be quiet, will you?”
Rebecca stopped singing but kept cranking the music box handle. “I will, if you’ll give me back my Ring keychain.”
“I will. At some point.”
Carlton tore open the bag, laid it on the ground, and placed food cartons on top of it. He deposited paper plates in front of Rebecca and himself, opened the cartons, and distributed a plastic spoon in each one. Then he scooped up a portion of food, dropped it on Rebecca’s plate, and gave her a plastic fork.
“Eat. You must be hungry. I hope Chinese food is not too strange to you.”
Reluctant to be without her musical crutch, Rebecca stopped winding the crank and laid the music box on the ground next to her.
“No, not at all. Mama and Daddy used to take me to their favorite Chinese restaurant on Columbus Avenue, near where we live, all the time.”
“Good.” Carlton took a few bites. Then he stopped. “But you’re not eating. You have to keep up your strength.”
Rebecca took a taste. She couldn’t judge if it was better than the Chinese food she had eaten in New York, but that was not the most important thing on her mind.
“Carlton, you never showed me your secret places in the opera house like you promised.”
Carlton kept chewing as he talked. “We can’t go there right now.”
“But you promised.”
“How about I tell you some exciting stories about the opera instead?”
“Oh yes, please.”
“But you must swear not to repeat them to anyone.”
“I promise.”
Rebecca knew what a great storyteller Carlton was from the time they had spent together in the opera galleries. And she was bored. She was ready to listen.
* * *
Once Julia and Larry had reached the northwestern edge of the West Bluff Picnic Area, Julia began to show signs of exhaustion, both physical and emotional. She could not hide this from Larry, nor did she want to try. She felt disheartened, daunted by the extent of the territory that needed to be covered in order to reveal any clue as to where Rebecca might be sequestered.
Julia gazed into the distance at the spectacular views of the Golden Gate Bridge and heaved a sigh. “It’s hopeless, Larry. We’ll never find her.”
“I can’t believe you, of all people, said that, Julia. Of course, we’ll find her. It’s a matter of time.”
“But there’s so much ground to go over.”
“We’re just getting started. And we’ve got lots of help. Hundreds of people out there looking.” Larry moved close to Julia. “You, on the other hand, are spent. Why not stay here and take a breather? I’ll call Taylor and find out if he and Will and Cristina have made any progress.”
Too tired to argue, Julia slumped down onto a grassy patch. “I don’t think I’m good for anything else.”
“That’s the first logical statement I’ve heard from you in ages.” Larry grabbed his cell phone from his jacket pocket and tapped.
“Taylor, It’s Larry. Anything new?” He listened for a moment. “Julia’s wiped out. I’m leaving her at the picnic area to take a break. Where are you? Okay, be there shortly.” He clicked off. “I’m only a phone call away, Julia. I’ll let you know when—emphasis on ‘when’—we find something. You rest. Got that?”
Julia nodded. Larry leaned over and kissed her forehead. Then he headed back to Crissy Field.
She flashed him an encouraging smile, but she felt despondent. From her position on the grass, she could see multiple families picnicking on the perfect green lawns, their colorful umbrellas catching the bright sunlight. Others were perched at picnic tables sharing their foodstuffs, tending their luscious-smelling barbecues whose odors wafted her way, and promenading along the walkways.
That should be us.
Julia pictured Rebecca skipping and hopping on the paths, chirping the “Ride of the Valkyries” to her heart’s content.
It would be a crime to cry on a glorious, sun-washed day. Instead, Julia focused on finding the answer to the question that had been assaulting her mind for the past two days.
Rebecca, where are you?
Chapter Fifty-Six
Alberich
Wuth und Minne, wild und mächtig, wühlt mir den Muth auf!
Wie ihr auch lacht und lügt, lüstern lechz’ ich nach euch
Wrath and yearning, stern and forceful, bind me to insanity!
Snicker and deceive as you will, lusting rules my heart
Wagner, Das Rheingold, Scene One
Rebecca arranged her sleeping bag around her, making herself as comfortable as she could in order to give Carlton’s story her full attention. She loved listening to her mother and father’s stories, but she was sure this one would be different.
“Once there was a boy who learned all about science, but always loved opera, because he came from an Italian family,” Carlton began.
“Do all Italians love opera?” Rebecca said.
Carlton stopped his narrative and growled under his breath. “Sì, ma se ad ogni momento…”
Rebecca could see her disruption angered him. She had no idea that in Carlton’s mind, it had evoked the geisha Cio-Cio San’s dialogue with her husband’s cohort Sharpless in the second act of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly—the opera that had been Merola’s swan song, which Carlton loved so much—in which Sharpless tries to read a letter to Cio-Cio San, and she keeps disrupting him.
“Yes,” Carlton replied, “but if you interrupt me at every sentence—”
Rebecca was afraid of aggravating him further. “I won’t. I’ll be quiet, I promise.”
“All right, then. When the boy grew up to be a man, he went to school to study science, but in the end, he decided he wanted to run the opera company in San Francisco, as general director. He knew opera inside out and loved it more than anyone. He felt he was worthy of this position, by virtue of his background and family history. But…”
Rebecca could see his face sadden, but she was afraid to ask him why. She looked up at him and waited until his sorrowful look dissipated.
“The mean people at the Opera didn’t appreciate how clever and capable he was and made him stay in the background and do the lowliest tasks.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Carlton,” Rebecca said, “Do you mind if I ask you what ‘lowliest’ means?”
“I don’t mind when you interject to ask meanings of words. It helps you learn,” Carlton said. “‘Lowliest’ means the commonest, most subservient duties.”
Rebecca didn’t know the meanings of his explanatory words either, but she didn’t want to pursue the matter. “Was that man you, Carlton?”
“Clever girl. Yes, it was.” Carlton went on. “One day, after a long, long time of doing these menial jobs, he got fed up and decided to get back at the mean people. He used his scientific knowledge to do something very inventive, very ingenious. He mixed up a batch of bad stuff, put some of it inside some chocolates, and gave a box of them to one of the mean people to see if he would be able to taste it.”
“And could he?”
“No, he couldn’t tell there was anything bad in the candies at all. The man just kept eating them. And, well…he got…a nasty tummy ache.”
“I don’t believe you could do something that unkind, Carlton.”
“Oh, yes. I thought of other ways to get back at the mean people, too. And I did. Although, one time when I was doing that, I ended up hurting someone I hadn’t meant to, a nice man who was a respected musician, a violinist. But it couldn’t be helped.”
Rebecca didn’t want to know what the other ways were, or who the other person was that Carlton had hurt. That it was a violinist like her mom distressed her. In fact, Carlton’s stories weren’t anything like she had imagined them to be. They were terrifying.
Rebecca thought she could overcome her trepidation by singing the “Ride of the Valkyries.” She knew it would annoy Carlton, but she had no choice if she wanted to keep from dissolving into tears.
Maybe if I hum instead…
Rebecca started to sing in a low murmur. She could see Carlton was annoyed and was worried he might take his anger out on her, but she tried to keep her fear in check.
“It’s astonishing how loud and piercing a tiny girl’s voice can sound, how it can project, even as a hum,” Carlton said. “I must admit it grates on my nerves. But I can see these stories of mean people are scaring you. How would you like to go outside? You’ve been cooped up too long.”
“Oh, yes, please.”
Rebecca was relieved. Maybe Carlton wasn’t as mean as she thought. But she couldn’t be sure. So, while he wasn’t looking, Rebecca crammed her music box into her pocket. That would make her feel safer.
“Good. Shall we go, then?”
She nodded. He helped her up, took her by the hand, and led her to the door.
* * *
Julia had lost track of the time she had been sitting in the grass, watching the activity around her. She was fantasizing about another day and time in the future when she, Rebecca and Larry would picnic on the lawn, laughing and eating and taking in the awe-inspiring views of the Golden Gate Bridge. Her thoughts wandered back to Ben and the investigation. She wondered if he had spent time gazing at the same scene with his significant others—or if he would be able to do it soon, since his injuries likely were starting to heal. With the recent murderous activity at the theatre, was he beginning to believe his accident was intentional, that someone had been going after him or Andres? If so, would he have believed Carlton capable of such an act?
A beeping from her phone brought her back to reality. She glanced at the screen, expecting the same number that had called before. But this one was different. She waited, panicked, trying to figure out what to do. There was no way she could alert Larry or the inspectors without risk of losing whoever was on the other end. She had no choice but to answer.
