Wading Into Murder Read Online Free Page A

flashed into her mind: an American woman with soaking wet hair and soggy clothes standing outside the Roman Baths during a bomb scare in England, holding a stolen baby in her arms while being interrogated by two suspicious police officers. How had she got into such a ridiculous situation?
    Because you can’t control your curiosity and you never look before you leap, her ex-husband would say. Thomas, the charming if enigmatic man who had shared her adventures last summer would say much the same thing, but with admiration instead of disapproval. She wished he was here.
    The two officers stepped aside to exchange a few words, and Laura looked for Lady Longtree and William. They were nowhere in sight, and she was surprised. They had seemed so friendly, and she hadn’t expected Lady Longtree especially to desert her. Perhaps it was because she didn’t like getting involved with the police.
    Sergeant Prescott came up behind her. “This way,” she said, taking a firm grip on Laura’s elbow and steering her in the other direction. “It’s not far.”
    Laura obeyed, aware that people were staring at her. No doubt they assumed she was involved in the bomb scare. How did one go about proving non-involvement? One woman especially seemed unable to tear her eyes away…
    “The mother!” she gasped. “Over there – it’s the mother!”
    Another shock followed. Just behind the woman were Lady Longtree and William.

CHAPTER THREE
     
    Sergeant Prescott turned to look in the direction of Laura’s pointing finger. “The mother?” she asked in bewilderment. “You mean the baby’s mother?”
    “Yes,” Laura answered. Wrenching her arm from the policewoman’s grip, she sprinted toward the woman. The Sergeant pounded after her.
    Fear transfigured the mother’s face as she watched them. She turned and ran. Despite her bulky clothing she moved fast, and she quickly disappeared into the maze of narrow, twisting streets around the square.
    Laura stopped, frustrated. There was no hope of finding the mother if she didn’t want to be found. But why would a mother run away from her own child? Had the police frightened her?
    The Sergeant grabbed Laura’s arm again and held on tight until they were inside her office in the police station. Suspicion exuded from every pore of her stiff body. Picking up a phone, she asked someone to come for the baby and supplied Laura with the promised towel and cup of coffee. It smelled as if it had been brewing since early morning, but it was hot and Laura drank it gratefully.
    “First, I need information about you, who you are and what brings you to this country,” the Sergeant instructed when the baby had been borne away. “I shall need your passport too. Then I would like to know everything you can tell me about this baby, how and where you found it, and why you thought the woman you saw in the square was its mother.”
    Obediently, Laura handed over her passport, a professional card identifying her as Dr. Laura Morland, explained that she was a professor of gender studies in New York and had come to England to teach a seminar in Oxford, as well as to walk and do some sightseeing. Next she launched into an account of seeing the baby with its family at the airport, and then finding it in the Baths.
    Sergeant Prescott frowned skeptically and began to pepper her with rapid-fire questions like who had hidden the child in the Baths and why, and whether the cleaning woman had been the baby’s mother or the woman in the square. When she didn’t get the answers she seemed to want, she asked the questions again from a different perspective, until Laura felt dizzy with denials. Clearly, the policewoman didn’t believe she was just an innocent bystander.
    “I saw an article in the newspaper about an international organization that steals babies, and I wondered if there’s a connection with this baby,” Laura said finally, hoping the comment would divert suspicion from her. “I also wondered if there