Arthur Hailey - Evening News

Partridge, Rita and Teddy Cooper rode back to Manhattan together—at a pace considerably less frantic than their drive out. Partridge was in the front seat with the network driver, Teddy and Rita in the rear.

Cooper, whose decision to go to White Plains had been made at the last moment, had stayed in the background there, observing; then and now he appeared preoccupied, as if concentrating on a problem. Partridge and Rita, too, at first seemed disinclined to talk. For both, this morning's experience had been portentous. While they had witnessed, many times, the effects of terrorism overseas, to observe its invasion of American suburbia was traumatic. It was as if barbarian madness had at last arrived, poisoning an environment which, if not calm, had until now possessed a base of reason. The erosion of that base begun today, they suspected, would be extensive and perhaps irreversible.

After a while Partridge turned in his seat, facing the other two, and said, "The British were convinced that imported terrorism couldn't happen in their country, but it did. A good many believed the same thing here.”

"They were wrong from the beginning,” Rita said.”It was always inevitable, never if but when?”

Both assumed with some certainty—acknowledged by the White Plains police chief—that the Sloane kidnapping had been a foreign terrorist act.

”So who the hell are they?” Partridge pounded a fist into his palm.”That's what we must concentrate on. Who?”

It was clear to Rita that Harry had put behind him the notion of abdicating the leadership of CBA's task force. She answered, "It's natural to think first of the Mideast—Iran, Lebanon, Libya . . . the religious lineup: Hezbollah, Amal, Shiites, Islamic Jihad, FARL, PLO, you name it.”

Partridge acknowledged, "I've been thinking that way too. Then I ask myself, "y would they? Why would they bother extending their reach so far, taking the risks of operating here, with so many easier targets close to home?”

"To make an impression, perhaps. To convince the 'great Satan' there's no safety anywhere.”

Partridge nodded slowly.”You might be right.” He looked at Cooper.”Teddy, should we consider the IRA as possibles?”

The researcher snapped out of his reverie.”I don't think so. The IRA are scum who'll do anything, though not in America because there are still idiot Irish-Americans who feed them money. If they went active here, they'd cut that payola off.”

"Any other thoughts?”

"I agree with what you say, Harry, about the Mideast mob. Maybe you should be looking south.”

"Latin America,” Rita said.”It makes sense. Nicaragua's the most likely, Honduras or Mexico possibilities, even Colombia.”

They continued to theorize but had reached no conclusion when Partridge said to Teddy, "I know something's at work in that convoluted mind of yours. Are you ready to share it with us?”

"I guess so.” Cooper considered, then began, "I reckon they've left this country.”

"The kidnappers?”

The researcher nodded.”And taken Mr. S's family. What happened back there this morning"—he inclined his head toward White Plains—"was like a signature. To let us know the kind of people they are, how rough they play. It's a reminder for later on, for anyone who has to deal with them.”

"Let's be sure I read you,” Partridge said.”You believe they estimated how long it would take for the van to be discovered and blow up, and planned to have it happen after they had gone?”

"That's the size of it.”

Partridge objected, "You're simply guessing. You could be wrong.”

Cooper shook his head.”Better than guessing—say an intelligent assessment. Which is probably dead right.”

Rita asked, "Supposing you are right, where does that leave us?”

"It leaves us,” Cooper said, "having to decide if we want to make a big expensive effort to find their hideaway, even though it's empty when we get there.”

"Why would we care about that if, as you assume, the birds have flown?”

"Because of what Harry said yesterday: Everybody leaves traces. No matter how careful they've been, these blokes will have too.”

Their network car was nearing Manhattan. They were on the Major Deegan Expressway, the Third Avenue Bridge ahead, and the driver slowed in increased traffic. Partridge looked out, confirmed his bearings, then returned his attention to the other two.

”Last night,” he reminded Cooper, "you told us you'd try for an idea to locate the gang's headquarters. Is that 'big expensive effort' part of it?”

"It would be. It would also be a long shot.”

Rita said, "Let's hear about that.”

Cooper consulted a notebook and began, "What I figured on first was the kind of a place this mob would need to do all those things we discussed last night—park at least five vehicles, most likely out of sight, set up a workshop big enough to spray those motors, then have enough living, sleeping and eating quarters for four people and probably a couple more for good measure. They'd want space for storage, then somewhere safe to lock up the three Sloanes after they'd snatched 'em, and—for that size of operation—an office of some kind. So it wouldn't be anything small, especially not some ordinary house with nosey parker neighbors around.”

"Okay,” Partridge agreed, "I'll buy that for starters.”

"So what kind of place would it be?” Cooper continued.”Well, the way I see it, it would most likely be one of three things—either a small disused factory, or an empty warehouse, or a big house with outbuildings. But whichever, it would need to be somewhere with not much going on around—isolated, lonely—and as we've already agreed, it shouldn't be more than twenty-five miles from Larchmont.”

"You've already agreed,” Rita pointed out.”The rest of us have gone along because we couldn't think of anything better.”

"The trouble is,” Partridge objected, "even in that twenty-five-mile radius there could be twenty thousand places answering that description.”

Cooper shook his head.”Not that many. After our dinner last night, I talked with some of the others and what we reckoned, when you include the lonely part, was maybe one to three thousand.”

"Even then, how in hell would we find the one we want?”

"I already said it would be a long shot, but there might just be a way.”

As Partridge and Rita listened, Cooper described his plan.

”Start out by mulling this over: When those snatchers got here, wherever they came from, they had to set up base close to Larchmont, but not too close—just the way we said. So how would they most likely find one? First, pick a general area. After that, do what anyone else would, 'specially when they're short of time—look through the newspaper property ads, and the kind of place they'd need to lease or rent would be in the classifieds. Of course we can't be certain, but there's a good chance that's how they got the setup they used.”

"Sure it's a possibility,” Partridge said.”It's also a possibility they had local advance help, with the base set up before they got here.”

Cooper sighed.”Too bloody true! But when all you have to work with is possibles, you go for those you can put your hands on.”

"So I'm being a devil's advocate, Teddy. Keep going.”

"Okay, moving on . . . What we should do now is study the estate agents' ads in every paper, regional and local, published over the last three months inside that twenty-five-mile radius, with Larchmont as the center. Going through those papers, we'd look for ads of certain types—for the kinds of buildings we just talked about—.especially any ad that ran for a while, then suddenly stopped.”

Rita gasped.”Have you any idea how many papers, dailies and weeklies, and how many people—”Partridge told her, "I'm thinking the same way, but let him finish.”