Jason Pinter - The Stolen

"Why not?" I said. "Nothing brings a mother and her child closer than reading, writing and breast-feeding."

Amanda snorted a laugh, causing the other mothers to sneer at her in unison. She went back to reading the magazine. I did a cursory search through the reading material available. Since I had no aching desire to sift through a Learning Annex pamphlet or a four-month-old issue of Cosmopolitan, I just sat there and waited.

Finally after a two-hour wait, the receptionist called,

"Mr. and Mrs. Parker."

I looked at Amanda, her face suddenly nervous. We stood up and followed the receptionist down a woodpaneled hallway into an examination room.

"Dr. Petrovsky will be with you in just a moment."

When she left, I turned to Amanda and said, "Here we go."

"You really think this guy knows anything about Danny and Michelle?"

"That's why we're here," I said. "I just want something to prove to Wallace this story deserves looking into, regardless of what some stuffed shirt says."

We sat there waiting for fifteen minutes. I looked around the room. Nothing out of place, and because we were in a simple examining room rather than Petrovsky's office, it prevented me from snooping around his framed degrees.

Then the door opened, and a fifty-something barrelchested man walked in. He was about five-ten with a thick gray beard and a white coat that barely concealed his protruding midsection. Beneath the beard his cheeks were slightly red. He walked with a slight limp. I guessed he'd undergone a hip or knee replacement surgery recently.

"Mr. and Mrs. Parker, I am Dr. Dmitri Petrovsky." He spoke with a thick Russian accent. I took his extended hand, as did Amanda.

"Thanks for seeing us on such short notice," I said.

"It is my pleasure. Now, if you will do me one more, please, have a seat." Amanda sat down on a small metal chair. Petrovsky laughed. "No, not there. Here."

Petrovsky approached the examining table. He reached underneath, fiddled around for a few seconds, and then pulled up a pair up stirrups which he latched into place.

He then slapped the green cushion and said, "Mrs. Parker, if you please."

He put his palms together and then opened them as if he were reading a book.

Amanda's eyes went wide. "Oh, hell no. Henry, this is where I get off the train. Good luck."

"Mrs. Parker?" Petrovsky said. He turned to me. "I do not understand. This is a routine part of a first examination."

Time to come clean. Or at least cleaner.

"Dr. Petrovsky, my name is Henry Parker, and I'm a reporter with the New York Gazette. Now, first off, I want you to know that I'm here in the best interests of two children. All I want to do is ask you a few questions. We don't want to make any trouble, I promise. And I would appreciate your complete candor. It's vital in our investigation."

"Investigation?" Petrovsky's eyes were frightened, but I couldn't tell if it was from the surprise or something else. "Please, I do not understand. You lied to Maggie at reception?"

"Not exactly, Doctor. I just needed to speak with you. If after we talk you think my motives aren't genuine, you can do what you want. But please, just hear me out. I mean well."

Petrovsky folded his arms. I took that to mean he was listening.

"I'm investigating the disappearance of Daniel Linwood,"

I said. "The records show that Daniel Linwood was born in this hospital, and that you were the attending during the birth. In conjunction with Daniel Linwood, we're investigating a similar disappearance, a girl named Michelle Oliveira.

Michelle also was born here, under your supervision.

"Daniel Linwood," Petrovsky said, his eyes yielding a glimmer of recognition. "The name does sound familiar, yes. What has happened that you are investigating?"

This surprised me a little. The Linwood disappearance was major news in Hobbs County. Petrovsky had worked here dating back years. Either his memory had slipped, or he was being obstinate for a reason.

"A week ago, Daniel Linwood returned to his family after being kidnapped nearly five years ago. I'm looking into who kidnapped him and why."

"But you say Daniel was found, yes? He is with his family?"

"Yes, he is."

"Then all should be happy, no?"

"Not if you want a sense of justice. And I think Daniel's disappearance is related in some way to Michelle Oliveira.

You know both children were born at Yardley," I said.

"And they're both from Hobbs County."

"I did not know this, and I do not know this Michelle person you speak of."

Petrovsky reached into his pocket and took out a handkerchief, mopping a few beads from his brow. He put it back in, laughed slightly, then held his hands to his stomach.

"My wife," he said. "Says I should lose about fifty pounds to stay healthy. Perhaps, she says, this is the reason

I have a titanium knee. I think she may be right, but she cannot tell me how to lose that weight."

"Doctor," I said, "Daniel Linwood has no recollection of his missing years. I need to know what could happen to a child that could do that to their brain, to their memory.

If you know anything about Daniel, or what happened, that could explain it."

"Please, Mr. Parker, I am just here to do my job. I have delivered many hundreds of children in my career, and now you ask me to remember two as if they were delivered this morning? You have lied to me, and now you expect me to answer you like a man at a cocktail party who has medical questions? If you have medical questions, I would be happy to refer you to another physician in this clinic. Or if you prefer to continue down this path, I would be happy to refer you to hospital security, who will refer you to a good lawyer. That is all I have to say. Now I suggest you leave. Right away."

The look Petrovsky gave us confirmed that he was not bluffing. I had no intention of calling his bluff. I merely thanked him for his time, apologized again for the ruse, and we left.

We exited Yardley in silence. When we got to the parking lot, Amanda said, "Goddamn, that guy knows something."

I nodded, picked up the pace and headed toward our

Hyundai, hoping a strong wind hadn't caused it to blow away.

"I agree," I said. "He'd heard the name Michelle

Oliveira before. And I don't buy that he didn't know about

Danny Linwood." I stood in front of our car, thinking about what to do next.

"Think we should head back?" Amanda asked.

"No," I said.

"Why not?"

"I'm going to wait for him. Petrovsky. I'm going to follow him when he gets off work and see where he goes.

If necessary, confront him off hospital grounds. Where there's no security, nobody but us."

Amanda sighed.

"The least you could have done was tell me that upstairs. I would have grabbed a magazine from the waiting room."

She smiled at me, and we both piled into the car, waiting for the good doctor to emerge.

The phone call was not unexpected, but it rattled

Raymond Benjamin nonetheless. He'd been sitting in his loft, sipping a glass of pinot noir, from the Argyle wineries,

2005 vintage. There were few things that beat a glass of red and a cigarette at night. Perhaps a little Coltrane.

Getting a phone call from this number ruined all of it.

He recognized the area code and extension immediately, and as soon as they appeared in the caller-ID display, Benjamin knew there was a problem. Petrovsky was only supposed to call if there was an emergency. And

Benjamin made it very clear about what constituted an emergency.

He answered the phone. "Doctor," Ray said. "There'd better be a fucking good reason for this."

Raymond Benjamin listened as Dmitri Petrovsky filled him in on what had occurred at the hospital that day. He ended the conversation by saying he'd watched the two people-Henry Parker and Amanda Davies-leave the hospital. Only, when they left, they didn't drive away. In fact, they'd been sitting in their car for several hours.