Interrogation, fiction by Terena Elizabeth Bell

 

She was just the cutest little thing. I saw her when she came in the bank and I thought, Maggie, I thought to myself, Maggie, if that little girl isn’t one of the most adorable kids you’ve ever seen, hair all done up in that ribbon. I’m a childcare professional, you know. Oh no, not like that, I’m not licensed or anything, I just keep little ones at home. Four or five. Any more than that at once, it’s a bit much. You’re not going to turn me into the city or anything, are you? We’re not really zoned but I do have those plastic things in the outlets. Don’t want them to stick a fork in there, you know? Baby gates, those little latch things that go on the cabinets – my husband hates them, but Frank, I said, Frank, it keeps them from getting in your medicine and the trash and everything else and if any of those little ones did that, wouldn’t we have a mess on our hands? Can you imagine? Oh yes, the girl.

Listen, officer, I’m not sure how to put this more clearly: I have nothing to add. Look at the cameras. I was nowhere near that child. With the manager. Yes, the entire time. That’s not your — you know, I’m not saying another word without my attorney. This is cooperating. I’ve been here an hour and a half and if you have a problem, take it up with counsel. Shepherd Mullaney. Look it up in the book your own damn self.

Well, sir, the first thing you need to know is that this is just my second week on the job. So any questions about procedure or what the little girl’s dad might have gone in the back for or anything like that, I really would recommend you ask the bank manager; I don’t want to tell you wrong. But I am happy to help as much as I am able. It’s a horrible thing, for anyone to take a child like that, and for it to happen on my watch — I just — I really can’t believe it. Anything you need, anything at all. I did try and get to her, I did, but I was on the other side of the counter and by the time I got around, well they were gone. Now the customer I was helping — Mr Johnson? Johnston, I think? — again, I’m new — he didn’t have his account number so I had to look it up and that was a little distracting, I was looking down at the computer, but he was right there beside them the entire time, and I remember looking up when it happened and thinking help, why aren’t you helping, somebody help me stop her.

Of course I would have stopped it. Who do you think I am? I didn’t know it was going to happen. How was I supposed to know that woman was going to take her like that? Who does that? Who takes a child? The kid was upset already, how was I to know that lady wasn’t her mom?

Shepherd Mullaney Johnson Humphries Todd, thank you for your call. Please hold.

Like I said, the girl was upset even before that woman showed up. She was like that when she and her dad came in. Of course I didn’t think anything about it. Kids get upset. I’ve got one myself. They just act that way sometimes. They’re kids. How was I to know? I thought the woman was her mom.

Really was just the cutest thing. So hard to believe. One minute she was there and then you blink, just enough time for a blink. I told my husband Frank, I said, Frank, we can’t just do nothing, the police need us.

The partners are in a meeting. Would you care to leave a message?

Four, she was four. I’m a professional and I know my kids’ ages, there’s just something about that look, that look when they’re not quite old enough for school but you can see it, you can see it in their faces, they’re almost big enough to go. No, no sir. That little girl was four years old.

I don’t know. Seven? Six? Smaller than my son but my wife says boys are bigger. I really don’t know. I was there to make a deposit and I’m sorry if I was concentrating on that instead of watching other people’s children. What kind of dad just goes off and leaves his kid alone in a bank lobby anyway? They were in line behind me and the dad just left her, so when that woman came in, I thought she was her mom and had just come inside to get her. I don’t know. He put his hand on her shoulder and said something, then he left. I don’t know. Bathroom? Maybe check on a safe deposit box? I wasn’t paying attention, she’s not my kid. Can a man not just go in a bank and handle his business anymore? You have watch some stranger’s kid? I tell you, that’s what’s wrong with America right there, all these damn latchkey kids everywhere with nobody watching them — pardon my language, but my wife takes care of our son. She’d never let some woman snatch him up in a bank.

I’d say around six. Her father could tell you. I assume you’ve gotten a hold of him, he was in the back but he was in the bank the whole time. Now, I’d have to ask my manager, but we might could get his contact information out of the system for you if that’s helpful. Oh. Oh, yes. Yes sir, of course. Well, that’s good to know. He’ll be right here when you find her then. You will find her, won’t you?

I’m afraid our client has nothing to share on the matter. Now, excuse me sir, but if that’s all?

That little girl was wearing a ribbon. What do you mean she wasn’t, I just said she was. A blue ribbon. Maybe her father doesn’t remember. That’s the thing with men, you see. Frank, why my Frank, he could put a ribbon in a little girl’s hair one day, then completely forget about it the next. And I guarantee it wouldn’t match her outfit if he did. You say the little girl wasn’t wearing one, but I saw a ribbon. What does it matter? I’m giving you every detail I can think of, right down to the flowers on that pretty blue dress — what do you mean? It was blue. Which one of us was there? I am a professional, after all. I work with kids every day, and that little girl was in a blue dress, I tell you, a blue dress with a pink ribbon, just all smiling and happy to be there. Distraught? Who told you that? No, little ones love the bank because of the suckers, you know. Well maybe that man is wrong. As I told my Frank, I said, Frank, people say things to police all the time thinking they know best. What makes what that man has to say any more important than me?

In that case, our client can make himself available the afternoon of the 12th. Correct: three weeks from tomorrow.

No, the woman who took her was not in the bank, at least not at first. She did come in later, right before she took the child, but the little girl and her father, they came in while I was trying to assist Mr John … Johns … Johnston? I am so sorry. I am trying. I’m just so worried about that child. There was so much going on: one of those days where somebody’s always coming in. We have our security man — plainclothes, you would say — and there’s the man who comes to empty the depository and somebody else who comes during the day to deliver more cash. Now, that man hadn’t come yet. And then of course there’s the manager, he was with that man — the man out there earlier yelling about his lawyer — well, he had some sort of complaint, so then it was just me and the other teller on the counter, and Josie needed — well, she had to go the ladies’ and we’re supposed to wait until break but — she … well, she, um … she had a “personal” concern — no sir, nothing like that — can… can we please get back to the child? Oh yes sir, the customers. Well, there was the angry man; he was in the back with Mr McGivens. Then there was that couple, the large woman with her husband, I see you’ve questioned her as well. They had their backs to us over by the deposit slips. Then there was the gentleman I was assisting.

I’ll tell you, it happened like this: The little girl was standing in the lobby, she was all by herself and that woman came in wearing a — hmm, what was she wearing? — she was wearing a bright pink jacket with a floweredy dress and I turned to Frank, I said, Frank, look at that dress and Frank just kept his head down, filling out the teller slip and wouldn’t you know right then was when that woman snatched her up and that little girl screamed and bit her. Yes, I said bit her, right on the arm: B-I-T-E. Now, I know kids and I’m telling you, I’m telling you that woman was not that little girl’s mother. She was kicking and screaming and — yes, it was definitely long enough for that man to do something, why, I had time to run over there myself. I just ran straight over and said, “You put her down,” then that’s when the woman pulled a gun.

A gun? Oh, no sir. Not at all. Thank God there was not a gun. That poor child. You think she had a gun? Oh, oh, okay. Well who told you that? No, if there had been a gun, I don’t know what I would have done. I still would have tried to get around, but — I couldn’t just stand there and let that woman take a child. I did try to get around. That man — not to speak ill of a customer — but Mr Johns … the man without his account number, he just stood there, so I had to get around the counter then past him as well, and I just — I just wasn’t fast enough. I wish I could have been quicker, I do — but a gun? Oh, no sir. I’d’ve moved heaven and earth to get to that child.

Trying to deposit my paycheck. Of course, I went off and left my bankbook at home so the young lady had to look my number up and I don’t know why everybody keeps trying to pin this on me. Her dad’s the one who left her out there, irresponsible ass. He’s the one you should be questioning. You don’t see my kid getting kidnapped at the bank. I just heard the girl scream and turned around and there was what I thought was her mom wrestling with her and I thought kids can be like that. My son doesn’t want to do everything we tell him. He’s a kid. Kids don’t do what they’re told. Not to mention the girl had been a little riled up already. I mean, what kid likes the bank? People should watch their kids. This is not my fault. Stay with your kid, you don’t want to lose your kid, that’s all I’m saying. How was I to know that wasn’t her mom?

Well, when I saw that gun, I wasn’t sure what to do. Frank, I screamed, Frank, but there he just stood, filling out that teller slip oblivious to the world. Then right then was when that siren rung and the woman, she ran off with the girl, that little girl kicking and screaming and me hollering, “Stop” — that’s right, I hollered “Stop.” The gun? What do you mean? Oh, yes — right. No, yes, I see what you mean.

You mean the couple by the deposit slips? No sir. I don’t see how they could have seen what happened at all. You see, the slips are on the other side of the lobby and they both had their backs turned.

What if I don’t want to leave? What if I want to tell you more? I am a childcare professional, after all. Attention? Attention‽ Well I’ll be. Here I am giving you all my attention, there are so many other things my Frank and I could be doing — seeking attention, how insulting.

Now, sir, if I may ask, when all this is over — you will find the child — would you mind to let me know? I don’t want to be an inconvenience but I am very concerned and would appreciate it if somebody could let me know when she’s okay. No, no sir, I completely understand. I just feel so bad. I was there. I was right there and couldn’t — I wasn’t quick — y’all will find her, won’t you? If there’s anything else I can do, sir — please, anything at all.

Of course I hope she’s all right. I’m just saying this is not my fault. Now if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to go home and play with my own kid while it’s still light outside, hear a little something about his day.

Terena Elizabeth Bell is a fiction writer. Her debut short story collection, Tell Me What You See (Whiskey Tit), published December 2022. Her work has appeared in more than 100 publications, including Tough, The Atlantic, Playboy, and Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine. A Sinking Fork, Kentucky native, she lives in New York. Get one story delivered to your inbox every month by subscribing here: patreon.com/terenaelizabethbell.