Джеймс Паттерсон - NYPD Red 6

“Why did Veronica bail on the wedding?” I asked.

“Two weeks ago the new issue of Vanity Fair came out. They did a major article on Veronica. Mostly it was about her success running a global company in the cutthroat world of fashion. But eventually the writer asked how she felt about her son marrying one of the most famous women in the world.”

“I bet Mama went on a tear when she heard that question,” Kylie said.

“Oh yeah. She started with ‘Famous for what? Spreading her legs?’ I’ll spare you the details of the rant, but she went on for three paragraphs—basically called Erin a gold-digging whore. It was less than five percent of the article, but the tabloids and the TV entertainment news shows pounced on it and gave it a life of its own.”

“How did Erin deal with it?” I asked.

“She kind of shrugged it off. Or at least she pretended to. But Jamie took it hard. He was really pissed at Veronica. I figured it would all come to a head today, and I was braced for a real catfight the minute the two women came face-to-face, but Veronica never showed.”

We arrived at the office where Jamie was secured. Two uniforms were posted outside. A detective from Midtown South was inside. Kylie opened the door and asked the detective to step out.

“How’s he doing?” she asked the detective.

“Pretty broken up,” he said. “Seems genuine.”

“Any phone calls?”

“Nothing incoming. He dialed out once. Nobody picked up, so he left a voice mail. He said, ‘Mom, Erin’s been kidnapped. Call me back.’ ”

“Did she?”

“No.”

Kylie, McMaster, and I entered the office. Jamie was at the window looking out onto Thirty-Fourth Street. He turned as soon as we walked in. He was about medium height with a puffy face that would have benefited from a more defined jawline.

“Did you find her?” he asked. “Do you know anything?”

“Not yet,” Kylie said, “but we have hundreds of cops out there looking. Have you heard from the people who took her—a phone call, e-mail, a text, anything?”

“No.” He held up his cell phone. “I’m waiting.”

“NYPD will wait with you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means the best chance we have of finding Erin is to be with you when the kidnapper makes contact. Our technical people will monitor all your phones, your e-mail, and your social media accounts. We’ll set up a command post in front of your residence, and while we won’t stop you from coming and going as you please, we’d prefer if you stay home for the next forty-eight hours.

“Every call you get will be recorded. A detail of uniformed officers and detectives will be assigned to cover your home, both inside and out. And someone from the hostage-negotiation team will be with you at all times. He’ll coach you in advance on what to say and what not to say when the call comes.”

“I don’t need coaching,” Gibbs said. “I know what I’m going to say: ‘How much? I’ll pay. And please don’t hurt her.’ ”

“Jamie, don’t be an ass,” McMaster said. “These detectives have been through this before. Do what they tell you. Erin’s life depends on it. This is Detective Kylie MacDonald and Detective Zach Jordan. You couldn’t ask for anybody better to be working this case.”

“Sorry,” Gibbs said. “This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I can’t believe what’s going on. What do you want me to say when they call?”

“Whatever they ask for, don’t agree to it right away,” I said. “First thing you want is proof of life. And not just a phone call. You want a video.”

“A video takes time. Why drag it out? Why not just pay the ransom and get her back?”

“Because paying the ransom doesn’t guarantee that they’ll release Erin. And if she’s seen the kidnappers, once they have the money, there’s no reason to keep her alive. Your job is to keep whoever calls on the phone. Every conversation you have will tell us more about the kidnappers and where your wife may be.”

“You think there are more than one?”

“One person took her, but that doesn’t mean he’s working alone,” I said. “Can you think of anybody who might be behind this?”

“No. It’s probably just some random maniac who wants money.”

“He hasn’t asked for money yet, so we have to consider that it’s someone who has a grudge, a vendetta, or some other reason to want to hurt her.”

“People love Erin. She’s super-famous, so of course she has her detractors.”

“Do any of them stand out?” Kylie asked.

“Yeah, my mother,” Gibbs said with a hint of a smile. “She’s taking a lot of heat on social media for Erin’s disappearance. But trust me, she had nothing to do with it. If she had, Erin would have been gone long before the minister said, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife.’ ”

“We’d like to talk to your mother,” I said.

“You and me both, Detective. She hasn’t returned any of my calls. On a normal day I wouldn’t worry, but … ” He choked up and took a few seconds to shake it off. “This isn’t a normal day. For all I know, the kidnappers took her too.”

CHAPTER 10

THE INVESTIGATION HAD gotten so big so fast that while we were with Jamie, we needed somebody to keep tabs on the dozens of detectives who had been interviewing the guests, the wedding party, the TV production people, and the catering crew.

And there’s no one we trust more than Detective Danny Corcoran. We’d recruited him a few months ago, and he quickly became our go-to guy. Give Danny an assignment, and he gets it done, no handholding, no excuses. And the fact that he’s also a trained hostage negotiator would be a bonus for this case.

He was waiting for us upstairs.

“Boil it down for us, Danny,” I said. “What have you got?”

“Not much. I’ve never seen so many self-involved people packed into one ballroom. None of them saw anything of any value, but that didn’t stop them from offering up theories—especially the actors who play cops on TV. We took names, addresses, and phone numbers, and let them go. The waiters, bartenders, and the rest of the staff were also no help. The inner circle—bridesmaids, groomsmen, best man—were as shocked as everyone else. They all swear that this marriage was the real deal. Jamie loved her; she loved Jamie. And of course they mentioned that the groom’s mother hates Erin, but by now I’m guessing you know that.”

“Thanks. Anything else?”

“Yeah. Don’t be obvious about it, but take a look at that woman on the other side of the yellow tape. The one in the black pants and gray jacket, breathing fire.”

I glanced over. The woman was staring straight at us, hands on hips. “Who is she?” I asked.

“Her name’s Anna Brockway. Her husband’s the network guy. She doesn’t like the way the investigation is being handled.”

“What did you tell her?”

“She wouldn’t talk to me. I’m not high enough on the food chain. She said she wants to talk to ‘that blond bitch in the blue dress.’ ”

Kylie smiled. She’d been called worse. “That would be me. What’s her beef?”

“She’s pissed because you told her husband that this whole kidnapping business was a big publicity stunt.”

“I never said that. Ask Zach.”

Danny turned to me.

“Technically, she never said it. But if I had to testify in court I’d say she implied it with extreme prejudice.”

“Hey, tell me you didn’t think of it,” Kylie said.

“Of course I thought of it. But you red-flagged it. You asked Brockway if the whole thing was scripted because you caught him harassing a cop and you wanted to get all up in his grille.”