"Yes."
"Well, I'm impressed." He walked along the carpeted floor in front of them, bending close to examine each one.
"I used to paint but I decided I liked photography better. There's something seductive about taking reality and controlling it." Her voice was enthusiastic, but that energy suddenly vanished and she fell silent, as she gazed at a framed crayon drawing of a heart. I love you Mommy was painstakingly written in the margin.
Now Daniel eased to the window.
"See the cops?" She turned away from the artwork.
"Not yet," he replied looking out again.
They discussed what to do next, how to save Sarah--getting into the Prescott Investments office, trying to find the October List and the money.
She fell silent and sat heavily in a chair. "It's overwhelming," she said.
"Nothing's overwhelming if you take it step by step." Scanning the street, he clicked his tongue. "Yep. There they are. There's a playground across the street, a couple hanging out there, heads down. Only they're in business suits and there're no kids nearby. They might be talking into microphones in their sleeves. Oh, and then on the roof of the building facing yours? It looks like that duo from the street."
"The roof?" she asked with a frown of disbelief. "They're looking in?"
"No, they're just setting up equipment, it looks like. Microphone--a dish of some kind."
Gabriela turned away and looked absently around the room.
"All right."
Daniel looked at her inquiringly.
"Let me know when they're finished."
She walked back and forth in front of the window, pacing anxiously.
Only a minute later he said, "Okay, they're aiming some big phallic lens this way."
She stepped close to him and whispered, "Let's talk about Charles and the case, but don't say anything about Joseph."
He nodded.
For five minutes they carried on an improvised but credible conversation about Charles Prescott's alleged crimes and her desperate situation. At one point, though, real tears began cascading down her cheeks and she had to pause to compose herself.
Then, standing right in front of the window, she instructed, "Come here."
"What--?" Daniel asked.
"Come here," she repeated firmly.
Frowning, curious at her tone, Daniel did as instructed. As a cool autumn breeze flowed into the room from the open window, she gripped him hard and kissed him on his mouth. Tentatively at first, then more firmly.
"Kiss me back," she whispered.
He was startled but he did as ordered, firmly and with passion--his grip on her shoulders nearly hurt. She could sense his genuine desire. She felt a burst of longing within her.
Then Gabriela forced herself to tell him in a whisper, "Step back, and look me over like you're enjoying what you're seeing." She stripped her burgundy sweater off.
"I don't have to pretend about that," Daniel mouthed.
In her pale blue bra and close-fitting stretch pants, she walked to the window, paused for a moment and pulled the curtain shut. She then put the sweater back on.
"Bummer," he whispered.
She held her fingers to her lips. She grabbed the TV remote and--muting the volume--turned the unit and the cable box on, then scrolled through pay-per-view channels until she found an adult movie. Two clicks and the bad film came to life in medias res, depicting a young couple going at it poolside in a very stressed lounger. The volume rose.
Uhn, uhn, uhn...
She nodded to the door then snagged the leather jacket from the rack in the hall. But her face grew somber as she looked at the garment on a neighboring hook: a child's faux-fur parka.
More tears flowed.
Daniel put his arm around her shoulder, gave an encouraging hug. Gabriela pulled on sunglasses. He did too and they stepped out the door into the hallway, which smelled of carpet and cleanser. In ten minutes they were slipping out of the service entrance in the back of the building, and heading once more for Central Park, free of prying eyes and ears.
CHAPTER 11
11:15 A.M., SATURDAY
45 MINUTES EARLIER
I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE IT," Gabriela whispered. "If you ever met him, met Charles, you'd think it was impossible what those men were saying."
She and Daniel continued walking in silence into the shadows of the Upper West Side. They were almost to her apartment. There, she'd explained, she'd call co-worker Elena and Charles's lawyer and see if she could piece together what had happened.
She added, "He was the nicest guy in the world. When I got divorced, he said anything I needed, just let him know. He found a lawyer for the divorce. One of the best in the city. He lent me ten thousand for expenses. But it wasn't a loan. I tried to pay him back but he wouldn't take a penny." She took a tissue and pressed it to her eyes.
They turned down a canyon-like cross street to head west. In a moment they were at her building, a five-story brick structure a few blocks from Central Park, between Columbus and Amsterdam.
As they walked into the lobby a man, standing near the elevator, looked her up and down. "Gabriela McKenzie?"
"Shit. Another cop?" she whispered to Daniel.
Then their eyes noted he carried a paper Whole Foods shopping bag.
"What's this?" she asked softly.
"You are Gabriela?" The man was six-two. He was solid, but not fat. Solid the way a bag of fertilizer's solid. His hair was a mass of curly blond ringlets.
"Yes. I'm sorry, who are you?"
A giddy laugh. "Hey, there. How're you doing? Beautiful morning, isn't it? Gorgeous. Predicting overcast and temperatures plummeting later, but let's enjoy what we've got now, shall we?"
He strode up to them, moving in a lithe way for a large man. A faint grin. "I'm Joseph." He didn't extend his hand. "Don't try to rack your brains. We've never met." A nod at Daniel, who gazed into the man's dark eyes. Under an unbuttoned black overcoat, he wore a loose-fitting brown suit and a dress shirt with two slashes of crease across the belly. His teeth curiously had a slightly pinkish tint.
"And you...?" She didn't complete the question but instead asked, "How do you know me?"
"Oh, I don't yet. Not personally, that is. My loss, that. How you doing today? Not in the mood to chat? No worries. I've got something you'll be interested in."
"What're you talking about? Leave us alone."
"Wait. 'Interested,' I said. Aren't you curious exactly what?"
"No."
"Oh, hey. I'll bet you will be. Betcha five bucks. Want to take me up?"
"Hey, fuck off, mister," Daniel said, moving forward an inch or two.
Joseph held up a hand as if warding off a blow. Grinning, cringing. Playful. "Just take a peek. Pretty please? I'm begging you." He lifted the shopping bag.
Gabriela's head swiveled toward Daniel as Joseph reached into the bag and withdrew a windbreaker, black and blue like the water of New York Harbor at dusk. It was a child's size. He also displayed a plastic doll, similar to Barbie. But the dress had been removed from the toy. The beige flesh glowed in a band of sunlight.
Gabriela screamed.
Joseph frowned broadly. "The ears. The ears!" He tapped his own. "That was noisy."
She raged, "Where did you get those? That's Sarah's jacket! And her doll!" She stepped back and grabbed her cell phone.
Joseph said, "Oh, about the phone. Just think about why I might not want you to make any calls. Is that too much of a stretch? I'll vote it isn't."
"What the fuck is this?" Daniel barked.
Joseph wagged a finger his way but said nothing.
Her voice cracking, Gabriela repeated, "Where did you get those? Where is she? Who are you?"
"So many, many questions... Let's take 'em one at a time. I got the jacket from Ms. Sarah. That's a no-brainer. And where could she be? Where do you think? With some friends of mine. As for question number three, I'll hold off on that for the time being."
Gabrie
la lunged, grabbing him by the lapels. This caught Joseph off-guard and he stumbled back, an angry frown replacing the smirk. Daniel restrained her.
Then the slick grin was back on Joseph's face. "Re-lax! Little Sarah's fine."
Daniel eased closer yet. Joseph opened his coat and jacket and displayed the butt of a pistol. "More show-and-tell! So settle down there, Cowboy."
Daniel, eyes wide, stepped back.
Gabriela gasped as she stared at the weapon.
Joseph looked Daniel up and down. "And who exactly are you, Cowboy?"
"I'm a friend."
"Friend. Okay. Let me see your wallet."
Daniel hesitated, then dug into his pocket and handed him a wad of cash. Hundreds and fifties. Probably a thousand dollars.
"That's what goes into a wallet. That's not a wallet."
"Take it."
"I don't want it. I want your wallet."
Gabriela shouted, "Where's Sarah? What've you done?"
Joseph tapped his ears again. "Let's not draw too much attention to ourselves. This"--he tapped the pistol--"is even louder than your hysteria. Now, Cowboy, wallet."
Daniel handed the supple leather over.
"No, no..." Gabriela was crying now.
As he flipped through the billfold, Joseph seemed to be memorizing various facts. He slipped out one of the business cards and examined it. "The Norwalk Fund. Sounds lucrative." He handed everything back. "Here you go, Cowboy Dan, a resident of Eighty-Five Franklin Street. Nice area. That's all I want for now. But if I ever do have need of a loan, glad to know you're sooo willing to part with your cash." Then to Gabriela, "Now, about Ms. Sarah. The reason she's visiting my friends is because of your boss. Which maybe you figured out. Charles Prescott disappearing. Which troubled me mightily. You've heard from the police about that, I imagine?"
"Yes, but what does--"
A finger to his lips silenced her. "Yes'll do just dandy. Don't say any more unless I ask. Okay?"
She nodded, her hands clenched.
"Now, if the fine constabulary of the city of New York calls you again, don't talk to them. If your phone rings and you don't recognize caller ID don't pick up. If they leave a message don't return their calls. If they stop you on the street and ask you anything, from the time of day to where to buy good donuts when they're on break to details about your boss's underwear preferences, tell 'em you're not saying anything until you see your lawyer. If I find out you've been talking to the police I won't be happy. And that means Ms. Sarah won't be happy."
"Stop it! Quit playing these fucking games!" Gabriela swallowed and stared at the windbreaker and doll. "How do I know you have her? Maybe you stole them."
Joseph carefully rolled the blue windbreaker up and slipped it into the bag, dropped the doll on top of it. "Here's what's happened. Your ex-husband, Timothy, dropped your daughter off at her dance class this morning. Not long after that, an associate of mine who looks like Tim's father came to the school and signed her out. Grandpa's name and picture are on the assigned release list."
"How did you know that?" Gabriela whispered in shock.
Joseph seemed not in the mood to answer. "He said that there was a change of plans and he was supposed to take Sarah to some friends. You had an unexpected trip. Grandpa look-alike dropped her off with said friends. I.e., me. That's how it worked. And pretty damn smooth if I do say so myself."
"No! She wouldn't go away with a stranger!" Gabriela cried.
"The last time she saw her grandfather was two years ago. I learned that with a few mouse clicks. Tsk, tsk--all that social network stuff. People are sooo careless nowadays."
Wiping her eyes with her fingertips, she whispered, "I don't have much money. But I'll get you whatever you want. I'll borrow it. I'll--"
Joseph's amused eyes took in Daniel again. "You're gettin' tense there, Cowboy; you're getting antsy. I can see it. Like you're thinking about playing hero. You want to take a pen and stab me in the eye? Well, first, I'd kill you before you got six inches toward me. But if you managed to grab a bat or have an RPG hidden on your person and you took me out, what do you think would happen to our Sarah? Be a little smarter, okay?"
Daniel said evenly, "The police'll get you. And the FBI. Kidnapping's a federal crime."
Joseph sighed. "Oh, pul-ease..." His eyes swayed back to Gabriela. His voice was more reasonable now. "Listen. She's fine. She's watching TV. She's got some toys. She thinks she's with some friends of yours she hasn't met. You had to go out of town for a day or two."
"If you hurt her, I'll--"
"Movie dialogue alert... Let's not waste time, okay?"
"I want to talk to her. I want to see her."
"In a minute."
"Please."
"In a minute." Joseph looked around them. There were no observers. "Now, listen to me carefully. Are you listening?"
"Yes, but--"
"Shhh. All I want is you to listen."
"All right." She looked down past her trembling hands.
"Have you heard from Charles Prescott today?"
"No, I swear. I'd tell you if I'd heard from him. Please... What do you want?"
Joseph was nodding. Again he looked up and down the street out the front door. A few passersby but nobody was paying this group any attention. "There's a list--with detailed information on some clients of Charles's. Thirty-two of them, to be exact."
"Thirty-two?" she asked, looking quickly at Daniel.
"That's right. He called it the October List. These were special clients he did, let's say, some private work for."
"I've never heard of it."
"That's not really my concern, now, is it? Anyway, I'm one of those clients. And we were involved in an important project--which has been derailed thanks to your boss vanishing unexpectedly. I don't like derailings and now I need to be in touch with the others. Without him we're a rudderless ship. Did you catch that word, by the way? 'Need' the list? And you're going to get it for me."
"But how can I get you something I've never heard of?"
"You knew Charles better than most people. Even if you're telling the truth--I'm not exactly sure about that, by the way--but even if you are, you better than anybody can figure out where it is."
Daniel said, "But if it was that important, he wouldn't've kept it himself. He'd give it to somebody for safekeeping. His lawyer, his--"
"His lawyer doesn't have it. I checked."
Gabriela asked, "Mr. Grosberg? You've talked to him?"
Joseph paused, and his thick lips eased into what might have been a smile. "We had a meeting. A... discussion. I'm convinced he doesn't have the list."
"Meeting? You don't mean that at all. What the hell did you do to him?"
"Relax. He'll be okay in a month or two."
"He's seventy years old! What did you do?"
"Gabriela, we on the same page here? I don't need you to be weird. I need you to be focused, for Sarah's sake. Now, I heard about the list from a little bird--who's no longer with us, by the way."
"What?"
Joseph wrinkled his nose, dismissing her shocked expression. "This Tweetie Pie, I was saying, this little bird told me that Charles was so paranoid he didn't keep the list on computers. He said if the Mossad could be hacked, then he could be hacked. So he only had hard copies. And he kept one in New York. It's here somewhere. You get to find it."
"How?"
Joseph held up a finger. "Maybe you know more than you think you do."
"I don't! Maybe some other employees heard of it, but--"
"Elena Rodriguez, his nod to affirmative action? The occasional temps? The bookkeeper? No, you were the only one who worked that close to Mr. Charles Prescott. He told me that. He said there was nobody like Gabriela. So you've got to be the little gal who can. I need you to find me the October List."
He turned his eerie gaze at Gabriela probingly. "And there's something else I want. The initial fee I paid Charles. I want it back. Four hundred thousand dollars."
> "Fee?" Gabriela asked. "There is no up-front fee at Prescott. We get an annual percentage of the portfolio..." And then she nodded and added with disgust, "But I get it: These're the special clients you're talking about. These thirty-two."
"Exactly!"
"But if you're secret how would I know where any money for... you people is?"
"Oooo, that stung." Joseph pretended to pout.
Daniel said, "Listen, Joe. Be realistic. If her boss took off he'd take the cash with him."
" 'Joe'?" The man looked around broadly.
"Joseph."
"Oh, moi." He smiled. "Charles left town pretty fast. According to my sources, when Prescott heard there was a warrant he bailed and didn't get all the money he could have. Maybe the police found some of it. But I'll bet there's a lot more. And I'm hoping for your sake--and Ms. Sarah's--that you can hit the jackpot. Now, Gabriela, let's get some more ground rules set. First, like I said, no police. And a cone of silence with everybody else: Your ex-husband, your best friend, your hairdresser. Everybody."
"You're despicable!"
Joseph turned to Daniel, who looked like he was considering slugging the man. "Sorry you walked into the middle of this. But you get the picture. You don't seem stupid. You keep your mouth shut too. You agree to that?"
"Yeah."
Joseph laughed. "If looks could kill." To Gabriela he said, "Now, it's nearly noon. I'll need the list by start of business Monday, so I'll give you--I'll generously give you--until six tomorrow to find it. Sunday. But about the money--that's a different story. In case everything falls apart and the police come knock, knock, knocking on my door, I'm going to need that cash in my hot little hand, so I can jump ship. That I want by six o'clock tonight."
"Tonight? Impossible!" she said, gasping. "Four hundred thousand dollars?"
"For Sarah's sake you better figure out how to make it extremely possible."
Then, with an edge of resolve in her voice, Gabriela said, "I'm not doing anything until you let me talk to my daughter."
"You can't talk to her." Joseph opened his phone and displayed a video. "But..."
Daniel and Gabriela looked down. The cute blond girl was sitting watching TV cartoons. Oblivious to the shadowy forms of two adults in the background.
"How could you do this?" she raged once more.
Joseph sighed, looking bored, and put the phone away. "Time for a pop quiz. Now, what's the most important ground rule?"
"No police." The words sounded as if uttered underwater.
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