Joel Goldman - No way out

“How has Jimmy gotten along with them?”

“He scares them. They give him room, not trouble. I don’t know why he’d risk getting caught with a weapon.”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Lucy said. “He wanted it in case he had a chance to escape, either to overpower an officer or take a hostage, both of which he just did.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But this isn’t an easy place to escape from. Even if he gets out of the building, he’s still got to get through a lot of officers, electronic gates, and barbed wire. A shiv will only get you so far.”

“Why then?” the superintendent asked.

“Self-protection. Somebody in here scared him. I’d appreciate it if you could give me a list of everyone who’s visited Jimmy and everyone who’s checked in since he arrived.”

“Who are you looking for?” Nardelli asked.

“Someone like Jimmy, someone who didn’t belong here.”

Bonner cupped his hands, shouting down the hall. “Jimmy! It’s me, Ethan Bonner. Let Kate go.”

“Fuck that, Bonner. They let me go first, then we got something to talk about.”

“Jimmy, you know that’s not going to happen. Let her go before this gets any worse.”

“Only one way it’s going to get worse, and that’s if they don’t let me out of here.”

“Okay, okay. Just take it easy. Let me see what I can do.”

Nardelli looked at Bonner. “Don’t even ask. You made your fee speech, counselor,” she said. “Now sit tight and shut up. We’ll handle this the rest of the way.”

She stared down the hall for a moment and then called to Jimmy.

“This is Detective Nardelli. I talked to you right after your children disappeared. I’ve got someone on the way over here to talk with you, see what we can work out.”

“There’s nothing to work out. You heard what I want. Make it happen.”

“It’s not up to me, Jimmy. That’s why I’ve sent for someone you can do business with. Until he gets here, you’ve got to make sure Kate doesn’t get hurt because if she does, there’s nothing anybody can do for you. We clear on that?”

“Either I get out of here, or there’s nothing I can do for her. We clear on that, Detective?” he said, stepping into the light.

Kate let out a cry as Jimmy let go of her arm and grabbed her hair from behind, yanking her chin up, the shiv now visible at her neck. He retreated into the shadow, pressing his back against the wall and making himself a smaller target, Kate providing cover.

“He’s clear, I’m clear, we’re all clear!” Kate yelled. “So do us a favor and move back, give us some room. Jimmy and I have things to talk about, and all this attention isn’t helping.”

Nardelli turned to me, her voice low. “Is she serious?”

“Most of the time,” I said. “I’d give her a chance.”

“She was the one who wanted Jimmy’s shackles taken off. That’s not much of a track record.”

“She’s the only psychologist in the room, and we’re out of options until your people get here, unless you plan on shooting him.”

“Not that I couldn’t, but that’s what the SWAT team gets paid to do. They don’t like it when someone else does it for them.”

“In that case, I’d do what she says.”

“Okay,” she called to Kate. “We’re pulling back to the end of the hallway. Help is on the way.”

Ten quiet minutes passed, Jimmy hanging onto Kate’s hair. They were talking, though we couldn’t hear what they were saying. Jimmy was not relaxing his grip, evidence enough that it wasn’t going well.

Sirens pierced the silence, announcing the on-coming cavalry, the thumping of a helicopter hovering overhead upping the ante. Boots clattered on the sidewalk outside the door, enough for a small regiment. Nardelli opened the door, and two men entered, one in full SWAT gear carrying an M24 sniper rifle, the other dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and a black leather jacket, sporting bloodshot eyes and a two-day growth of beard.

“I’m Quinn,” the second man said.

“You’re Jeremiah Quinn, the negotiator?” Nardellli asked, raised eyebrows saying she didn’t think so.

“Don’t act so disappointed. Henry Kissinger was busy,” Quinn said. “Who started this party?”

“The guy down the hall with a shiv up against a hostage’s neck.”

“What’s he want?”

“A get-out-jail-free card.”

Quinn shrugged. “Why should he be any different than all the others? Let’s see what we got.”

The sniper took up position, sighting Jimmy just as he released Kate’s hair, dropping his arms to his side. She did a slow pivot, facing him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, easing the shiv out of his hand, talking. Jimmy answered, and both of them nodded. Kate walked away, leaving him alone in the center of the hall.

Nardelli and the sniper rushed past Kate. Nardelli shouted at Jimmy to get down on the floor, and the sniper grabbed him before he could comply, shoving him onto the tile, jamming his knee into Jimmy’s back as Nardelli cuffed him.

I ran to Kate, embracing her, both of us trembling. Pulling away, I tilted her chin to one side, pressing my sleeve against a crimson tear along her pale neck. A paramedic materialized, replacing my sleeve with a pressure dressing and cupping Kate’s elbow, telling her to step outside.

“I’m okay,” she insisted.

“Let’s make sure,” the paramedic told her.

“You better take this,” she said, handing me the shiv.

It was six inches of hard plastic, tapered at one end to a sharp point. Nardelli and the superintendent studied it with me.

“It’s the handle for a toilet bowl brush,” the superintendent said. “I recognize the color and shape.”

I gave the shiv to Nardelli and went outside, finding Kate sitting on a gurney in an ambulance, the paramedic cleansing her wound and covering it with a small bandage while she talked with Quinn.

“Damn fine piece of work,” he told her. “Except for the part where you asked to have the guy’s shackles taken off. That’s classic too-stupid-to-live rookie bullshit. Don’t trust anybody, especially someone who’s got more to lose than you do. Makes me want to puke every time I see crap like that on TV.”

“Sorry you made the trip for nothing,” Kate said.

“You kidding? Nobody died. That’s a good day. You ever want to do this again the right way, call me,” he said, handing her a business card.

He patted her on the cheek and climbed out of the ambulance, nodding at me as I took his place alongside Kate. The superintendent and Nardelli joined us, standing outside the ambulance.

“Is that guy a cop?” I asked Nardelli.

“No. He’s freelance.”

“A freelance hostage negotiator? How does that happen?”

“Budget cuts,” she said. “We had two negotiators. One retired, the other had a nervous breakdown, and now there’s a hiring freeze.”

“Are you telling me there are enough hostage situations in Kansas City that a guy can make a living as a negotiator?”

“That’s not all Quinn does, and he doesn’t just do it around here.”

“What else is there?”

“He calls himself a conflict specialist. You got a problem with somebody and you aren’t too particular how it gets handled, you call a number, leave a message, and hope he shows up.”

“Hard times makes for hard choices,” I said. “Kate, you feel like talking about what happened?”

A rose blush crept into her cheeks. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I completely misread Jimmy. I didn’t see this coming.”

To their credit, the superintendent didn’t say I told you so, and Nardelli didn’t crack wise about the vagaries of micro facial expressions.