Arthur Hailey - Evening News

A speakerphone was on a desk nearby. Jaeger pressed a button and the speaker came alive.

”Okay, Jonathan,” Kettering said.” Tell us what you have.”

Mony's amplified voice answered, "There was a classified ad in the Record. Seemed to fit what we were looking for. Shall I read it?”

"Go ahead.”

The trio in the conference room heard a rustling of paper as Mony continued his report.

The advertisement, they learned, had appeared on August 10—a month and four days before the Sloane kidnap, which put it within the estimated time frame of the pre-kidnap surveillance.

HACKENSACK—SALE OR LEASE

Large traditional house in 3 acres, 6 bed, servant quarters,suit multi-family or convert to nursing home, etc. Fireplaces, oil heat, air cond Spacious outbuildings good forvehicles, workshops, stables. Secluded location, privacy. Attractive price or lease. Terms allow for some repairs needed.

PRANDUS & PAIGE

Brokers / Developers

One of the young women researchers discovered the ad, buried among many others—the Record had one of the largest real estate advertising sections in the region. On reading it, she had contacted Jonathan Mony who was in the area and now carried a CBA paging device. He had joined her at the newspaper's business office from where Mony phoned the real estate brokers, Prandus & Paige.

Initially he had not been optimistic. During the preceding two weeks there had been many such alerts. But after quick enticements and follow throughs including visits to "possible” premises, all had proven worthless. The likelihood that this latest scrutiny would be different did not seem great.

In this case, as with most others, on learning that CBA was making the inquiry, the brokers were cooperative and supplied an address. What was different was some added information: First, that almost at once after the ad appeared, a one-year lease had been taken on the property with full payment in advance. Second: A recent check revealed the house and buildings to be deserted, the lessees apparently having left.

An official at the brokerage firm told Mony, "The tenants were there just over a month, and we haven't heard from them so we have no idea if they're coming back. Right now we're not sure what to do, and if you have any contact with the people, we'd appreciate hearing.”

Mony, his interest quickening, promised to keep the real estate firm informed. He then visited the property with the woman researcher.

”I know we weren't supposed to follow up directly,” he told Cooper and the others on the phone.”But that was before we heard the kidnappers were in Peru. Anyway, we've found some things we think are important and which made me decide to call you.”

He was telephoning from a cafe, he reported, about a mile from the empty house.

”First, give us the directions,” Kettering instructed.”Then go back to the house and wait. We'll be there as fast as we can.”

* * *

An hour later a CBA courier car pulled into the Hackensack property, bringing Don Kettering, Norm Jaeger, Teddy Cooper and a two-man camera crew.

As Kettering stepped from the car, he surveyed the old decaying buildings and commented, "I can see why that ad mentioned 'repairs needed.”

Cooper folded a map he had been studying.”This place is twenty-five miles from Larchmont. About what we figured.”

" You figured,” Jaeger said.

Mony introduced the young woman researcher, Cokie Vale, a petite redhead. Cooper recognized her instantly. When the temporary researchers first assembled she had asked whether, at the stage they appeared to have reached now, a camera crew would be on hand.

”I remember your question,” he told her and gestured to the crew assembling its equipment.”As you can see, the answer's 'yes.' “

She flashed him a dazzling smile.

”The first thing you should see,” Jonathan Mony said, "is on the second floor of the house.”

As the others followed, he led the way into the dilapidated main house and up a wide, curving stairway. Near the head of the stairs he opened a door and stood back while others filed in. The room they entered was in total contrast to what had been seen elsewhere. It was clean, painted a hygienic white and with new pale-green linoleum covering the floor. Mony switched on overhead fluorescent lights, also obviously new, revealing two hospital cots, both with side restraining rails and straps. In contrast to the cots was a narrow, battered metal bed; it, too, had straps attached.

Pointing to the bed, Kettering said, "It looks as if that was an afterthought. The whole place is like a first-aid station.”

Jaeger nodded.”Or set up to handle three doped people, one of them unexpected.”

Mony opened a cupboard door.”Whoever was here didn't bother to clear out all this stuff before they left.”

Facing them were some assorted medical supplies—hypodermic needles, bandages, rolls of cotton batting, gauze pads and two pharmaceutical containers, both unopened.

Jaeger picked up one of the containers and read aloud, "'Diprivan . . . propofol'—that's the generic name.” He peered at fine print on the label.”It says 'for intravenous anesthesia.' “As he and Kettering looked at each other, "It all fits. Doesn't seem much doubt.”

"Can I show you downstairs?” Mony prompted.

”Go ahead,” Kettering told him.”You're the one who's had time to look around.”

Entering a small outbuilding, Mony pointed to an iron stove, choked with ashes.”Somebody did a lot of burning here. Didn't get everything, though.” He picked up a partially burned magazine, the name Caretas visible.

”That magazine's Peruvian,” Jaeger said.”I know it well.”

They moved to a larger building. Inside, it was obvious it had been a paint shop. Virtually no attempt had been made to clear the building. Cans of paint—some partially used, others unopened, still remained. Most were labeled AUTO LACQUER.

Teddy Cooper was looking at colors.”Remember when we talked to people who saw the Sloane surveillance? Some reported seeing a green car, yet none of the kinds of motors they mentioned were manufactured in that color. Well, here's green enamel—and yellow too.”

"This is the place,” Jaeger said.”It has to be.”

Kettering nodded.”I agree. So let's get to work. We'll use this on the news tonight.”

"There is one more thing,” Mony said.”Something Cokie spotted outside.”

This time the attractive redhead took center stage. She led the group to a cluster of trees away from the house and outbuildings and explained, "Somebody's been digging here—not long ago. Afterward they tried to level the ground but didn't manage it. The grass hasn't grown back either.”

Cooper said, "It looks as if earth was taken out and something buried, which is why it hasn't packed down.”

Among the group, eyes shifted back and forth. Cooper now seemed uncertain, Jaeger looked away. If something had been buried—what? A body, or bodies? Everyone present knew that it was possible.

Jaeger said doubtfully, "We'll have to call the FBI about this place. Maybe we should wait and let them . . .”

Behind the remark was the fact that after Friday's National Evening News, the FBI Director in Washington had telephoned Margot Lloyd-Mason and strongly protested CBA's failure to inform the FBI immediately of new developments. Surprising some at CBA, the network president did not take the complaint too seriously, perhaps believing the organization could with-stand any government pressure and was unlikely to be charged in court. She merely apprised Les Chippingham of the call. The news president, in turn, cautioned the task force to keep law enforcement authorities informed unless there was some compelling reason not to do so.