Noah Boyd - Last Chance to Die

The chief pointed at one of the detectives, who said, “They’re supposed to be forwarding it.”

“You’ll want that right now. Also from the kids’ race,” Vail said. “That it’s a holiday and twice as hard for the police to get anything done may not be a coincidence. Whoever’s responsible for this may have learned by past mistakes. As in convicted child molester. Which, as Kate suggested, makes the sex-offenders list a top priority.”

“What else?” Mallon asked.

Vail stepped forward to better engage the men around the table. “I know everybody is trying to think positive, but after this amount of time, statistically, there’s only a slightly better-than-even chance that the boy is still alive. Not a pleasant thought, but you’re police officers—you’re paid to approach things from a clinical and, maybe more important, a cynical perspective. There’s also a fifty-percent chance the boy’s been sexually assaulted. And the longer this goes, the worse those odds become. So if cars are stopped or your instinct tells you to search someplace, don’t get it in your mind that you’re going to hear the victim pounding on doors or walls to be freed. Assume you’re looking for a body. And remember, in a situation like this—I’m sorry, Chief—it’s better to do something that’s wrong than it is to do nothing at all. If someone won’t allow you access, politely search anyway. Just remember: Be polite and explain the situation. Whoever took the boy is one of the few people who won’t cooperate in an instance like this.”

Mallon stood up and addressed his officers. “Don’t any of you worry about liability. Like Steve said, explain, be polite, and then do what you have to do. All the heat is on me.” To Kate and Vail, he said, “We’ve already got more than thirty tips. The media has been running the story every half hour. Each time they do, we get more. We’re going to start chasing them down.” He turned back to the officers and detectives around the table. “Any questions?” There were none. “Okay, I’ll be here. If you run into anyone who’s reluctant to help, and there’s time, call me and I’ll make the decision.” The officers got up and started filing out. “Kate, you can use my office to make those calls.”

“Okay.”

“Steve, can I ask you to give us a hand with the tips? Sounds like you know what to look for. Maybe you’ll see something we’re missing.”

“If I can get one of your people to run me to the airport when we’re through. Kate’s already late for something she needs to get to.”

“Sure.” Mallon glanced at her. “Kate, if you need to go, I’ll understand.”

Kate could tell that Vail hadn’t said it maliciously. “It’s nothing that can’t wait, Tim. And if I don’t make it, it’s not a big deal. I’m here because we’re friends. I’ll stay until you don’t need me any longer.”

Vail said, “Chief, if you have a desk somewhere with a computer, I’ll start on those tips. And a map of the area if you have one.”

“Great. And I’ll make sure you get copies of anything new that comes in.”

Kate said, “Tim, could you give us a minute?”

“Sure.” Mallon walked out and shut the door.

She put her hand on his arm. “I appreciate your keeping me from looking like a fool.”

“No use both of us feeling that way.”

She started to say something, and he placed his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Bannon.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “I really do hate New Year’s Eve parties.”

He turned to go, and she said, “And don’t think you can sneak out of here without saying good-bye.”

Vail gave her a silent but formal salute.

While Kate started making phone calls, trying to track down agents from the Behavioral Science Unit and the Washington Field Office, the chief led Vail to a detective’s desk and showed him how to access the department’s different databases. He settled in and started reading the tips.

Unlike the officers and detectives, Vail had the luxury of looking at them from a different perspective. The Reston Police Department had to investigate all the tips offered. Vail didn’t. So he was able to start making judgments about the callers and the individuals they were reporting on.

He checked each suspect’s name in the computer to see if there were any previous contacts with the department. He also checked the callers’ names—if they gave one—to see if they were chronic complaint makers, which could lessen the priority of their information. After reading all the tips, he hadn’t found any he considered worthwhile. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Tips were a double-edged sword. While they frequently solved a case, a false lead that looked promising could be distracting, take the entire department in the wrong direction, and burn precious time. A uniformed officer walked in and asked, “You Vail?”

He stood up and shook hands. “Steve, yes.”

The policeman put three more tips on the pile. “These are from the last half hour. We’re also starting to get photos from the races e-mailed in. Do you want me to forward them to this computer?”

“I’d appreciate it.” Vail picked up the newest tips. “Anything interesting?”

“Nothing we’ll need lights and sirens for.”

Vail continued searching the names through the computer. Still nothing jumped out at him. When he finished, he got up and wandered around until he found someone who directed him to a coffeepot. He filled two cups and went looking for Kate.

The chief’s office was small but well ordered. Bureau memorabilia neatly lined the wall behind the desk. Kate was on the phone, so Vail placed the cup in front of her and sat down.

She rolled her eyes as she listened to the latest excuse as to why nothing could be done tonight, taking a sip of coffee. He watched her and was reminded of one of the things that he liked most about her: She thrived on work. The more difficult the case, the more focused she became. He listened as she urged cooperation. Her tone was compelling, and Vail couldn’t tell whether it was actually cajoling or threatening or both. Finally she hung up midsentence. “Come January second, there’ll be a number of Bureau employees who are going to be at least as unhappy as I am right now.”

“Makes me almost sorry I won’t be here.”

She gave him a small, sad smile through pursed lips and leaned back in her chair. “Anything in the tips?”

“Not so far. The photos are starting to come in, though.”

“Do you actually think we’d get that lucky?”

“I just thought it would be better to have them than not. You never know, something could come up later that a photo might help with,” Vail said. “And the pendulum is due to swing the other way.”

“What pendulum?”

“What most people call luck. To me it’s nothing more than a temporary statistical aberration. So far tonight I’ve had an unbelievable amount of bad luck, so maybe I’m due.”

“Sorry.” She stared at him for a moment before taking another sip of coffee. “Do you know what I find to be the most confounding thing about you, Steve?”

“That doesn’t sound like a question a judicious person would want to hear the answer to.”

“That you’re so good at this and refuse to do it for a living.”

“Don’t start.”

The chief knocked on the door and came in. “Sorry. We may have something. From the sex-offenders list, there’s one, a Frank Dillon, who kidnapped and molested a six-year-old boy twelve years ago. He was paroled in September, and he lives in Vienna, which is fairly close. We got ahold of his parole officer, who said Dillon recently changed his residence and stopped reporting. As far as the PO is concerned, he’s AWOL, and he’ll violate him if we want. We just made a call to his last employment, and he was at work until noon today, when he just up and quit. He did leave a cell-phone number so they could call him when his last check was ready. We’re going to try to put the grab on him. You guys want to come along?”