‘My office is in Midtown, east. Let’s get a cab. We should move fast. The deadline … six p.m. We have so much to do.’ She turned to look for a taxi.
‘Wait,’ he said in a sharp whisper.
‘What?’
‘We’re being followed,’ Daniel said.
‘Are you sure?’ She sounded doubtful. But she looked behind and saw a van easing to the curb. ‘Joseph?’
‘I didn’t see any vans before.’
‘If it’s police,’ she said, panic in her voice, ‘and Joseph sees, he’ll think we called them! He’ll kill Sarah!’
‘We’re not sure it’s the cops. Maybe it’s a coincidence.’
But the van wasn’t happenstance; it was in fact occupied by the police. This was confirmed when they noticed a blue-and-white NYPD patrol car start toward them from Columbus Circle, then brake suddenly and make a U-turn.
She said, ‘Somebody in the van just radioed the squadcar and told them to get the hell out of here. Yep, it’s cops. They’re hoping I’ll lead them to Charles.’
‘And look,’ Daniel muttered.
She followed his eyes toward what was probably an unmarked police car – a gray sedan with several small antennas bristling on the roof.
‘Goddamn it,’ she snapped, furious. ‘They’re all over the place!’
‘What should we do?’
After a moment of debate, she said, ‘Let’s go back to my apartment. Wait, walk over there, by the curb.’
‘What?’
‘Stay in the sunlight.’
Daniel frowned, uncertainly. Then he gave a smile. ‘Ah, you want them to see us.’
‘Exactly.’
In ten minutes they were back at her apartment building. They found no unwelcome assailants inside this time and stepped into the hesitant elevator for a ride to the second floor. In her unit, which faced south, she set the Tiffany bag he’d brought for her on an antique table by the door, her purse too. Shucked her jacket and slung it on a hook.
Daniel looked around the place, focused on the books, the pictures of a little blond girl.
‘Sarah,’ he said.
She didn’t bother to nod. It wasn’t a question anyway.
Daniel noted other pictures, mostly of Gabriela by herself. A few with her and her parents. One he studied for a long moment.
‘You and your father?’
She looked his way. ‘That’s right.’
‘He’s a good-looking man. Do your parents live in the city?’
‘He passed away,’ she told him. ‘Mom’s in a home.’
‘I’m sorry. What did he do for a living?’
‘Worked for the power company. Con Ed. Manager.’
The picture had been taken a decade ago. It depicted a twenty-two-year-old Gabriela and her father, exactly thirty years older; they shared the same birthday, May 10. Taurus. She told Daniel this, then added wistfully, ‘He used to say people who’re Tauruses think astrology is a lot of bull.’
Daniel laughed. And he looked over the image of the tall man, with trim salt-and-pepper hair, once more.
She didn’t tell him that the picture had been taken a week before his death.
They had the same expression on their faces, easy and humorous, unrehearsed. Her mother had been having a good day and she’d playfully snapped the picture.
Then Daniel noted a dozen framed artistic photographs, all in black and white. He walked close to examine them. They were mostly still lives and landscape but some portraits too.
He asked, ‘So these are yours.’
She was gazing out the window, through a slit in a side curtain. ‘What?’
‘These photos. Yours?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’m impressed.’ He walked along the carpeted floor in front of them, bending close to examine each one.
‘I used to paint but I decided I liked photography better. There’s something seductive about taking reality and controlling it.’ Her voice was enthusiastic, but that energy suddenly vanished and she fell silent, as she gazed at a framed crayon drawing of a heart. I love you Mommy was painstakingly written in the margin.
Now Daniel eased to the window.
‘See the cops?’ She turned away from the artwork.
‘Not yet,’ he replied looking out again.
They discussed what to do next, how to save Sarah – getting into the Prescott Investments office, trying to find the October List and the money.
She fell silent and sat heavily in a chair. ‘It’s overwhelming,’ she said.
‘Nothing’s overwhelming if you take it step by step.’ Scanning the street, he clicked his tongue. ‘Yep. There they are. There’s a playground across the street, a couple hanging out there, heads down. Only they’re in business suits and there’re no kids nearby. They might be talking into microphones in their sleeves. Oh, and then on the roof of the building facing yours? It looks like that duo from the street.’
‘The roof?’ she asked with a frown of disbelief. ‘They’re looking in?’
‘No, they’re just setting up equipment, it looks like. Microphone – a dish of some kind.’
Gabriela turned away and looked absently around the room.
‘All right.’
Daniel looked at her inquiringly.
‘Let me know when they’re finished.’
She walked back and forth in front of the window, pacing anxiously.
Only a minute later he said, ‘Okay, they’re aiming some big phallic lens this way.’
She stepped close to him and whispered, ‘Let’s talk about Charles and the case, but don’t say anything about Joseph.’
He nodded.
For five minutes they carried on an improvised, but credible conversation about Charles Prescott’s alleged crimes and her desperate situation. At one point, though, real tears began cascading down her cheeks and she had to pause to compose herself.
Then, standing right in front of the window, she instructed, ‘Come here.’
‘What—?’ Daniel asked.
‘Come here,’ she repeated firmly.
Frowning, curious at her tone, Daniel did as instructed. As a cool autumn breeze flowed into the room from the open window, she gripped him hard and kissed him on his mouth. Tentatively at first, then more firmly.
‘Kiss me back,’ she whispered.
He was startled but he did as ordered, firmly and with passion – his grip on her shoulders nearly hurt. She could sense his genuine desire. She felt a burst of longing within her.
Then Gabriela forced herself to tell him in a whisper, ‘Step back, and look me over like you’re enjoying what you’re seeing.’ She stripped her burgundy sweater off.
‘I don’t have to pretend about that,’ Daniel mouthed.
In her pale blue bra and close-fitting stretch pants, she walked to the window, paused for a moment and slid the shade down. She then put the sweater back on.
‘Bummer,’ he whispered.
She held her fingers to her lips. She grabbed the TV remote and – muting the volume – turned the unit and the cable box on, then scrolled through pay-per-view channels until she found an adult movie. Two clicks and the bad film came to life in medias res, depicting a young couple going at it poolside in a very stressed lounger. The volume rose.
Uhn, uhn, uhn …
She nodded to the door then snagged the leather jacket from the rack in the hall. But her face grew somber as she looked at the garment on a neighboring hook: a child’s faux-fur parka.
More tears flowed.
Daniel put his arm around her shoulder, gave an encouraging hug. Gabriela pulled on sunglasses. He did too and they stepped out the door into the hallway, which smelled of carpet and cleanser. In ten minutes they were slipping out of the service entrance in the back of the building, and heading once more for Central Park, free of prying eyes and ears.
CHAPTER
11
11:15 a.m., Saturday
45 minutes earlier
‘I still can’t believe it,’ Gabriela whispered. ‘If you ever met him, met Charles, you’d think it was impossible what those men were saying.’
She and Daniel continued walking in silence into the shadows of the Upper West Side. They were almost to her apartment. There, she’d explained, she’d call her co-worker Elena and Charles’s lawyer and see if she could piece together what had happened.
She added, ‘He was the nicest guy in the world. When I got divorced, he said anything I needed, just let him know. He found a lawyer for the divorce. One of the best in the city. He lent me ten thousand for expenses. But it wasn’t a loan. I tried to pay him back but he wouldn’t take a penny.’ She took a tissue and pressed it to her eyes.
They turned down a canyon-like cross street to head west. In a moment they were at her building, a five-story brick structure a few blocks from Central Park, between Columbus and Amsterdam.
As they walked into the lobby a man, standing near the elevator, looked her up and down. ‘Gabriela McKenzie?’
‘Shit. Another cop?’ she whispered to Daniel.
Then their eyes noted he carried a paper Whole Foods shopping bag.
‘What’s this?’ she asked softly.
‘You are Gabriela?’ The man was six-two. He was solid, but not fat. Solid the way a bag of fertilizer’s solid. His hair was a mass of curly blond ringlets.
‘Yes. I’m sorry, who are you?’
A giddy laugh. ‘Hey, there. How’re you doing? Beautiful morning, isn’t it? Gorgeous. Predicting overcast and temperatures plummeting later, but let’s enjoy what we’ve got now, shall we?’
He strode up to them, moving in a lithe way for a large man. A faint grin. ‘I’m Joseph.’ He didn’t extend his hand. ‘Don’t try to rack your brains. We’ve never met.’ A nod at Daniel, who gazed into the man’s dark eyes. Under an unbuttoned black overcoat, he wore a loose-fitting brown suit and a dress shirt with two slashes of crease across the belly. His teeth, curiously, had a slightly pinkish tint.
‘And you …?’ She didn’t complete the question but instead asked, ‘How do you know me?’
‘Oh, I don’t yet. Not personally, that is. My loss, that. How you doing today? Not in the mood to chat? No worries. I’ve got something you’ll be interested in.’
‘What’re you talking about? Leave us alone.’
‘Wait. “Interested,” I said. Aren’t you curious exactly what?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, hey. I’ll bet you will be. Betcha five bucks. Want to take me up?’
‘Hey, fuck off, mister,’ Daniel said, moving forward an inch or two.
Joseph held up a hand as if warding off a blow. Grinning, cringing. Playful. ‘Just take a peek. Pretty please? I’m begging you.’ He lifted the shopping bag.
Gabriela’s head swiveled toward Daniel as Joseph reached into the bag and withdrew a windbreaker, black and blue like the water of New York Harbor at dusk. It was a child’s size. He also displayed a plastic doll, similar to Barbie. But the dress had been removed from the toy. The beige flesh glowed in a band of sunlight.
Gabriela screamed.
Joseph frowned broadly. ‘The ears. The ears!’ He tapped his own. ‘That was noisy.’
She raged, ‘Where did you get those? That’s Sarah’s jacket! And her doll!’ She stepped back and grabbed her cell phone.
Joseph said, ‘Oh, about the phone. Just think about why I might not want you to make any calls. Is that too much of a stretch? I’ll vote it isn’t.’
‘What the fuck is this?’ Daniel barked.
Joseph wagged a finger his way but said nothing.
Her voice cracking, Gabriela repeated, ‘Where did you get those? Where is she? Who are you?’
‘So many, many questions … Let’s take ’em one at a time. I got the jacket from Ms Sarah. That’s a no-brainer. And where could she be? Where do you think? With some friends of mine. As for question number three, I’ll hold off on that for the time being.’
Gabriela lunged, grabbing him by the lapels. This caught Joseph off-guard and he stumbled back, an angry frown replacing the smirk. Daniel restrained her.
Then the slick grin was back on Joseph’s face. ‘Re-lax! Little Sarah’s fine.’
Daniel eased closer yet. Joseph opened his coat and jacket and displayed the butt of a pistol. ‘More show-and-tell! So settle down there, Cowboy.’
Daniel, eyes wide, stepped back.
Gabriela gasped as she stared at the weapon.
Joseph looked Daniel up and down. ‘And who exactly are you, Cowboy?’
‘I’m a friend.’
‘Friend. Okay. Let me see your wallet.’
Daniel hesitated, then dug into his pocket and handed him a wad of cash. Hundreds and fifties. Probably a thousand dollars.
‘That’s what goes into a wallet. That’s not a wallet.’
‘Take it.’
‘I don’t want it. I want your wallet.’
Gabriela shouted, ‘Where’s Sarah? What’ve you done?’
Joseph tapped his ears again. ‘Let’s not draw too much attention to ourselves. This’ – he tapped the pistol – ‘is even louder than your hysteria. Now, Cowboy, wallet.’
Daniel handed the supple leather over.
‘No, no …’ Gabriela was crying now.
As he flipped through the billfold, Joseph seemed to be memorizing various facts. He slipped out one of the business cards and examined it. ‘The Norwalk Fund. Sounds lucrative.’ He handed everything back. ‘Here you go, Cowboy Dan, a resident of Eighty Five Franklin Street. Nice area. That’s all I want for now. But if I ever do have need of a loan, glad to know you’re sooo willing to part with your cash.’ Then to Gabriela, ‘Now, about Ms Sarah. The reason she’s visiting my friends is because of your boss. Which maybe you figured out. Charles Prescott disappearing. Which troubled me mightily. You’ve heard from the police about that, I imagine?’
‘Yes, but what does—’
A finger to his lips silenced her. ‘Yes’ll do just dandy. Don’t say any more unless I ask. Okay?’
She nodded, her hands clenched.
‘Now, if the fine constabulary of the city of New York calls you again, don’t talk to them. If your phone rings and you don’t recognize caller ID don’t pick up. If they leave a message don’t return their calls. If they stop you on the street and ask you anything, from the time of day to where to buy good donuts when they’re on break to details about your boss’s underwear preferences, tell ’em you’re not saying anything until you see your lawyer. If I find out you’ve been talking to the police I won’t be happy. And that means Ms Sarah won’t be happy.’
‘Stop it! Quit playing these fucking games!’ Gabriela swallowed and stared at the windbreaker and doll. ‘How do I know you have her? Maybe you stole them.’
Joseph carefully rolled the blue windbreaker up and slipped it into the bag, dropped the doll on top of it. ‘Here’s what’s happened. Your ex-husband, Timothy, dropped your daughter off at her dance class this morning. Not long after that, an associate of mine who looks like Tim’s father came to the school and signed her out. Grandpa’s name and picture are on the assigned release list.’
‘How did you know that?’ Gabriela whispered in shock.
Joseph seemed not in the mood to answer. ‘He said that there was a change of plans and he was supposed to take Sarah to some friends. You had an unexpected trip. Grandpa look-alike dropped her off with said friends. I.e., me. That’s how it worked. And pretty damn smooth if I do say so myself.’
‘No! She wouldn’t go away with a stranger!’ Gabriela cried.
‘The last time she saw her grandfather was two years ago. I learned that with a few mouse clicks. And I mean just a few. Tsk, tsk – all that social network stuff. People are sooo careless nowadays.’
