Джеймс Паттерсон - NYPD Red 6

Give in. But never give up .

CHAPTER 35

ABOUT AN HOUR after Erin announced her pregnancy to the world, Kylie and I drove to the mobile incident command post outside Jamie Gibbs’s residence to wait for Bobby Dodd’s next move.

Cops have a dark sense of humor, and it wasn’t long before someone pulled together an impromptu What Time Will the Kidnapper Call? pool, ten bucks for a half-hour box. I, of course, didn’t buy in. It doesn’t look good when a detective being cross-examined by the defense has to admit he had money riding on how the case would play out. But I had a theory—he’d call in the middle of the night, when Jamie might be at his most vulnerable.

I was wrong. Kylie and I caught a few hours’ sleep in shifts, and when I woke up at eight a.m., Dodd still hadn’t called. I rang upstairs and asked how Jamie was handling the wait.

“He’s crawling the walls, Zach,” Detective Koprowski said. “The proof-of-life video is on YouTube, and he keeps going back to the site to see how many people have watched it so far.”

“How many?”

“Nineteen million views last time I looked. The number would be a lot lower if they didn’t count how many times Gibbs watched it.”

Two million YouTube views later, Jamie’s home phone rang.

“Incoming on his landline,” the tech in the command center said.

I called upstairs to Koprowski. “Does Jamie recognize the number?”

“No.”

“Tell him to pick it up.”

Jamie took the call. “Hello.”

“Jamie …” It was Erin. “Sweetheart, I’m scared.”

“Are you okay?”

“Jamie, I’m locked up. He has a knife in his hand. How can I be okay?”

“I mean, has he hurt you? Has he touched you?”

A whimper. But no response.

“Shit,” Kylie said. “Bad sign.”

“Erin?” Jamie said. “Are you there? Has he touched you?”

“I’m here. He’s treated me okay, but I want to come ho—”

Silence.

“Erin? Erin?” The fear and desperation in Gibbs’s voice was palpable. “Please … Erin?”

I looked at the tech to see if we’d been disconnected. He shook his head. The abrupt silence on the other end was all part of the psychological warfare. Ten seconds passed before Dodd broke it.

“Time is running out, Jamie. You got your video. You got your phone call. Are you going to pay or do I have to start sending you body parts?”

“I’ll pay. I swear.”

“Twenty-five million. I’ve got a bank routing number. You do this right, and she’ll be home in time for dinner.”

“It’s not that easy,” Gibbs said. “I just don’t have that kind of money.”

“Get it.”

“I will. I called my mother, but—”

“No buts! I don’t want excuses. I want my money. Now!”

“I’m trying. I left messages. She just hasn’t called me back yet.”

“ I’m trying. I left messages. She just hasn’t called me back yet ,” Dodd said in a high-pitched nasal voice. “Your wife is listening to this, Jamie. You should see the look on her face.”

“Tell her I’m sorry. As soon as my mother knows about the baby, I’m sure she’ll help.”

“Listen, asshole,” Dodd said, “your mother knows about the baby. By now, the whole damn world knows about the baby.”

“You’re right. I know she’ll come up with the money. All I need is a little time to convince her.”

“You better convince her fast, because a little time is all you’re going to get—very little. You tell her that the longer she makes me wait, the angrier I get. And if she ever wants to see this baby, she better cough up the money, or she’s going to force me to do something I don’t want to do.”

The phone went dead.

“Disconnect,” the tech said.

A second phone on his console rang. “Hold on. It’s Benny with a trace.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper. “It’s a number right here in the city. Let me see who it belongs to.”

Kylie picked up the paper as he typed the number into the system.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “I know the number.”

We all looked at her.

“The son of a bitch routed the call through my cell phone.”

CHAPTER 36

LESS THAN FORTY-EIGHT hours after her wedding, Mrs. Jamie Gibbs picked up her coffee mug, flung it at the stone fireplace, and cursed out her new husband. “Asshole,” she screamed as glass shards scattered across the living-room rug.

“Hey,” Bobby said. “Take it easy. It’s the maid’s day off.”

She wheeled around and gave him the finger. “That hag has half a billion dollars, but she hates me so much that she won’t pay a nickel to save her own grandchild.”

“I guess you picked the wrong mother-in-law. Don’t worry. Jamie will come up with the money.”

“Jamie? I’m more pissed at him than I am at her.”

Dodd grinned. “So then I guess the honeymoon is over.”

“Screw you,” she said, both middle fingers in the air this time. “Jamie is a people pleaser. He’ll tell you whatever he thinks you want to hear. He’s really good at making promises. But ask me if he delivers.”

“I’m gathering he doesn’t.”

“Not when he has to go through her. He’s like an indentured servant. You heard what he said. She just hasn’t called me back yet . What man waits for a return phone call when his wife’s life is on the line? Why isn’t he pounding on Veronica’s front door with a baseball bat demanding that she help?”

“Why did you marry him?” Bobby said.

She plopped down on the sofa and gave him the finger yet again, but this time she didn’t put any heart into it.

“Come on, Erin,” Bobby said, trying to keep it playful. “Everybody knows why you married him. He’s rich. No shame in that.”

“He’s not rich. She is. He may be heir to the throne but as long as she’s the queen, all he gets is an allowance.” She picked up the Daily News and waved it in his face. “Millions of people are praying for me, but not Veronica Gibbs. She’s praying that you kill me.”

“You know I’m not going to hurt you,” Bobby said.

“You say that now. But what happens tomorrow or the next day or the day after that when you finally realize Jamie can’t come up with the money?” She put her hands to her face and started to sob.

Bobby leaned over and tried to put his arm around her, but she shrugged him off. “Don’t touch me,” she said. She stood up and stormed off to her room.

Bobby didn’t know what to say. The two of them had had such a great morning. It was like a dream come true. First the sex in the shower, then they got dressed and had breakfast together. She passed on the croissants, but he’d stocked the fridge with yogurt, and even though he’d bought the wrong kind, it couldn’t have been that bad, because she ate the whole thing.

Then he made a fresh pot of strong hot coffee, because he could tell she didn’t like the stuff he’d brought from the deli. After that they went to the living room, read the papers, and he told her what she could and could not say when they made the phone call.

It all went well until Jamie dropped the bomb and told them that half a day after the proof-of-life video went live, Veronica Gibbs had not lifted a finger to do anything to help her unborn grandchild.

Erin was right. Veronica was a tight-fisted bitch, but Jamie was the real roadblock. He had no balls.

It was a problem Bobby hadn’t planned on, and he wasn’t sure how to solve it.

He reached inside his shirt, tugged at the chain around his neck, pulled out the .357 Magnum bullet, and closed his eyes.

The answer would come.

CHAPTER 37

SPENDING HALF MY waking life with my ex-girlfriend can be a double-edged sword.