Sean Black: Lockdown

‘Was there any sign of a struggle? Of him being forced into the car?’

Richard shook his head.

‘And you’re still sure Natalya’s not involved?’

‘I know how it looks. Maybe she thought she’d ordered a car and forgot.’

Lock sensed that Richard was clutching at straws, refusing to accept the inevitable: that a woman he’d hired was responsible for the kidnap of his only child.

‘Did she come into the country on a visa or was she already here?’

Richard bristled slightly. ‘I used an agency. I wouldn’t employ someone illegally.’

‘So they would have done a background check.’

‘They assured me they’d checked her out thoroughly.’

‘Have you had any previous threats?’

‘Of course. Everyone at Meditech gets those.’

‘No, I mean stuff that came directly to your home. Letters? Phone calls?’

‘One or two crank calls, just before I resigned. And some emails.’

‘Was that why you decided to leave Meditech?’

‘One factor, yes.’

‘The other factors?’

‘All laid out in my letter of resignation.’

Lock was starting to get irritated. ‘Help’s a two-way street, Richard.’

Richard shifted awkwardly in his seat. ‘I disagreed with the animal testing, but more on scientific grounds than ethical.’

‘But you were involved with it?’

‘For most of my career, yes.’

‘Was the pressure starting to get to you?’

‘It was a decision that I arrived at after a lot of consideration. I wouldn’t have resigned if I didn’t think it was bad science.’

Lock had heard enough about the debate around animal testing over the past few months, and certainly didn’t want another lecture like the one he’d endured from Janice. He moved on. ‘And were there any threats after that?’

‘Not that I made my resignation public, but no.’

‘And since Josh disappeared, what contact has there been?’

Richard’s gaze fell to the floor. ‘That’s just it. There hasn’t been any.’

Lock was disbelieving. ‘No ransom demand? No demands of any kind?’

‘Nothing.’

Scenario two could be crossed off the list. Beyond a parent or step parent snatching a child, three per cent of abductions fell into the category of kidnap for ransom. Due to the prohibitive sentences handed down by the judiciary since the Lindbergh kidnapping, only dumb or hardcore felons in the US viewed kidnap for ransom as any kind of business opportunity. Elsewhere, however, it was one of the big growth areas of criminal enterprise, up there with counterfeiting, internet fraud and trafficking. In these cases, where profit was the motive, the ransom demand swiftly followed the abduction, usually accompanied by dire warnings that the victim’s family should not, under any circumstances, contact the authorities.

Lock chewed his bottom lip. What lurked behind the door of scenario number three didn’t bear thinking about. The animal rights activists were people who didn’t mind digging up an old lady and dumping her remains in the middle of Times Square to make a point.

Richard looked at Lock, his pupils wide with fear. ‘It’s bad, isn’t it?’

Lock took a moment before answering. ‘Yes, it’s bad.’

Half of the 19th Precinct must be on guard duty, thought Lock, as he and Richard stepped from the elevator and walked towards Richard’s front door.

The patrol officer reacted with a mixture of alarm and relief as he saw them. ‘You’re not supposed to leave without letting us know,’ he said to Richard.

Richard blanched, like a kid caught breaking curfew. ‘I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.’

As Richard ushered Lock into the apartment, the cop was already on his radio, letting his superiors know that he was back — with a guest.

Like most of the rest of the building, the apartment lay in near darkness. It was close to midnight, and in this part of town the streets were quiet. Lock figured that the kind of money that had to be generated in order to afford a place in this neighbourhood required most of its residents to favour early nights over bar hopping.

Richard flipped on a light switch to reveal a narrow hallway, off which were three bedrooms and a bathroom. Beyond that it opened out into a large open-plan living area.

‘How long you lived here?’ asked Lock.

‘Since before I got married. It was Meg’s place from when she was a graduate student.’

‘Pretty swanky part of town for a grad student.’

‘Rent controlled. An aunt of hers died,’ said Richard as he went to turn on the main light.

‘You may want to close the drapes first.’

‘I forget sometimes. Plus, with Josh gone, I’m not sure I care any more.’

Like every other Meditech employee above a certain level, Richard would have gone through a security awareness programme and review. Lock knew that he would have been advised to alter his daily routine as much as possible, and to watch out for the absence of the normal, like a doorman missing from the front of the building. Ditto the presence of the abnormal, like a doorman suddenly appearing in a building which didn’t have one. All of the advice boiled down to remaining vigilant and employing simple common sense.

Lock wandered over to a tiny kitchen area at the far end of the room. Two couches. No TV. Built-in shelving ran along one wall, crammed with books and papers. A family portrait. Richard, Josh and a strikingly attractive blonde woman that he wouldn’t have put with Richard in a million years.

‘Meg,’ Richard said, saving Lock an awkward question about his dead wife. ‘There’s been no one since we lost her. I didn’t feel it would have been fair on Josh. Actually, that’s not strictly true.’

Lock said nothing. Let him continue.

‘There’s been my work. Maybe I’ve used that as my way of not confronting things,’ Richard added, before rubbing again at his eyes.

Lock was starting to feel Richard coming off a little too noble. ‘You mind if I look around the rest of the place?’

Richard shrugged his agreement.

Lock headed back down the corridor, the walls blank either side of him. He couldn’t help feeling that the place resembled more of a college dorm than a family home.

The first bedroom was similarly utilitarian, although the lack of personal touches was more easily forgiven here. Natalya clearly hadn’t brought much with her when she’d moved. A portable CD player lay on the bed, an already ancient relic. On the bedside table there was a picture of an older man and woman, presumably her parents. What Lock assumed to be her brother stood in front of and to one side of his father, edging him by a good foot in height, even though he couldn’t have been more than fifteen. Natalya stood next to her mother, long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, her eyes and smile bright and confident. No pictures of a boyfriend, nor anyone else for that matter.

An attractive young Russian girl, and, by her standards, a wealthy widower not past his prime. Lock wondered how truthful Richard had been when he’d claimed that there was nothing going on between him and Natalya. From the look of Josh’s mother, Richard could attract good-looking women. Perhaps he’d not wanted to complicate things for the sake of his son. Either that or he was lying.

Although the FBI would have been all over the place with a fine-toothed comb, Lock made a quick search of his own, coming up with nothing that seemed significant. He stepped back into the corridor and pushed open the door of Josh’s bedroom.

In contrast to the neat, almost antiseptic feel of the rest of the place, Josh’s room was a mess of toys, sporting equipment and comic books. A single sleigh bed was backed against one wall. Atop the duvet sat an FAO Schwartz teddy bear, the only concession to his tender years. A catcher’s mitt had been placed on its head at a rakish angle.