James Patterson - Roses Are Red

My very last interview turned out to be the most intriguing. It was with a woman named Hildie Rader. I was bored and distracted, but her opening line perked me right up.

"I think I met one of the kidnappers. He was here in downtown Hartford. I was as close to him as I am to you right now," she said.

I tried not to show too much surprise. "Why didn't you tell anybody before?" I asked her.

"I called into the hotline Metro Hartford set up. I talked to a couple of ding-a-lings. This is the first anyone got back to me!

"You have my full attention, Hildie," I told her.

She was a large woman with a pretty, homely smile. She was forty-two years old and had worked as an executive secretary. She was no longer with Metro Hartford which might have been why no one had interviewed her earlier. She had been fired twice by the insurance company. The first time she was let go was during one of the company's periodic and fairly regular belt-tightenings. Two years later Hildie was rehired, but she was then let go three months ago because of what she described as 'bad chemistry' with her boss, the CFO of Metro Hartford Louis Fincher. Fincher's wife had been one of the tour-bus hostages.

"Tell me about the man you met in Hartford, the one you believe might have been involved with the hostage-taking," I asked after I'd let her talk.

"Is there any money in this for me?" she asked, eyeballing me suspiciously," I'm presently unemployed, you know."

"The company is offering a reward for information that leads to a conviction."

She shook her head and laughed. "Hah! That sounds like a long, drawn-out affair. Besides, I should trust the word of Metro?"

I couldn't deny what she'd said. I waited for her to collect her thoughts. I sensed that she was thinking about just how much she wanted to tell me.

"I met him in Tom Quinn's. That's a local watering hole on Asylum Street near the Ravilion and the Old State House. We talked, and I

IRC;

liked him okay. He was a little too charming, though, which set off my warning alarms. The charming ones are usually trouble. Married man? Fruitcake?

"Anyway, we talked for a while, and he seemed to enjoy himself, but nothing came of it, if you know what I mean. He left Quinn's first, actually. Then a couple of nights later, I met him again at Quinn's. Only now, everything's changed. See, the bartender is a very good friend of mine. She told me that this guy had asked her about me before the night I met him. He knew my name. He knew I had worked for Metro. Out of sheer curiosity, I talked to him the second time."

"You weren't afraid of the man?" I asked.

"Not while I was in Tom Quinn's. They all know me so I'd get help in a nanosecond if I needed it. I wanted to know what the hell this guy was up to. Then it got pretty clear to me. He wanted to talk about Metro Hartford more than about me. He was clever about it, but he definitely wanted to talk about the executives. Who was the most demanding? Who called the shots? Even got into their families. He asked specifically about Mr. Fincher. And Mr. Dooner. Then, just like the other time, he left before I did."

I nodded as I finished making a few notes. "You never saw him again, never heard from him?"

Hildie Rader shook her head and her eyes narrowed. "I did hear about him, though. I have stayed good friends with Liz Becton. She's one of the assistants to Mr. Dooner, the chairman. He calls the shots at Metro Hartford

I had seen Dooner in action and I agreed with Hildie. He was the boss of bosses at Metro Hartford

"This is interesting," she said to me. "Liz had met a fella who looked just like my guy from Quinn's. Because he was the same guy. He sat down next to her at the coffee bar in the Borders on Main Street. He chatted Liz up while they sipped expensive caffe mochas, lattes, whatever. He wanted to know about, guess what? The executives at Metro Hartford He was one of the kidnappers, wasn't he?"

During the course of a long day, I had learned that nearly seventy thousand people in the Hartford area were employed in the insurance industry. Besides Metro Hartford Aetna, Travelers, Mass Mutual Phoenix Home Life and United Health Care were all headquartered there. On account of this, we had more help than we needed, and more suspects. The Mastermind might have been associated with any one of the insurance companies at some time in the past.

After I finished for the day at the insurance company, I got together to share notes with the others at a nearby Marriott. The breakthrough for day one was Hildie Rader's story that one of the crew members had probably been in Hartford a week before the hostages were taken.

Tomorrow morning we interview both women, Rader and Becton. Get a composite drawing made from their description. As soon as we have that, we'll show it around corporate headquarters. Also, have the composites we made in DC sent up here. See if there's a match, "Betsey said. She smiled then. "Things are heating up. Maybe they aren't so smart, after all."

Around eight-thirty I left the suite to call Jannie and Damon before they went to bed. Nana answered the phone. She knew it was me before I said a word.

"Everything is just fine here, Alex. Home fires are burning nicely without you. You missed a delicious pot roast supper. Soon as I knew you were going to be away, I made your favorite dish."

I rolled my eyes. I couldn't believe it. "Did you really make pot roast?" I asked Nana.

She cackled for a good half-minute. "Of course not. We had prime ribs of beef, though." Nana cackled even louder. Prime ribs were probably my second favorite dish and I was still hungry after the hotel deli food, pastrami and processed cheese on stale rye.

Nana laughed again. "We had turkey sandwiches. But we did finish up with hot, homemade pecan pie. A la mode. Jannie and Damon are right here. We're playing Scrabble, and I'm winning their life savings."

"Nana's winning by a measly twelve points and she already had her turn," Jannie said as she took the phone. "Are you all right, Daddy?” she asked, and her voice became motherly.

"Why shouldn't I be all right?" I asked her. I was feeling much better, actually. Nana had made me laugh," How are you doing?"

Jannie giggled. "I'm good as can be. Damon is being surprisingly nice. He brought my homework from school and it's all done. Aced! I'm about to take the lead, for good, in our Scrabble game. We all miss you, though. Don't get hurt, Daddy. Don't you dare get hurt."

I was feeling pretty fried, but I trudged back to finish the work session with the FBI agents. Don't get hurt, I was thinking as I walked the long hotel corridor. Jannie was beginning to sound like Christine. Don't get hurt. Don't you dare get hurt.

My mind was somewhere else when I knocked and Betsey Cavalierre answered the door to her room. It looked like the other agents had gone. She'd changed into a white T-shirt, a pair of jeans, and she wasn't wearing shoes.

"Sorry. I had to call home," I apologized.

"We solved everything while you were gone," she grinned.

"Perfect," I said. "God bless the FBI. You guys are the best. Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity."

"You know the motto on our seal. Actually, everybody was beat. We could try for that drink now if you'd like. You can't have any excuses left. How about the Roof Bar I've read so much about in the elevator? Or we could go see the Connecticut Sports Museum? The Hartford Police Museum?"

"The bar on the roof sounds good to me," I said. "You can show me the city from up there."

The bar actually had a perfect view of Hartford and the surrounding countryside. I could see lighted logos for Aetna and Travelers from where we sat, as well as Route 84 snaking northeast toward the Massachusetts Turnpike. Betsey ordered a glass of Cabernet. I had a beer.