Talk (16 page)

"Cassy's cut me out completely." Dirk dropped into a chair, leaning forward, running his hands through his hair and avoiding the others' eyes.

Will was looking at the security expert with cold fury. Alexandra reached over to lightly rub his back and murmur, "We need him."

Cassy came striding in moments later, introducing FBI agents Norman Kunsa and Debbie Cole, and NYPD detectives Jefferson Hepplewhite and Richard O'Neal, Chi Chi arrived a moment later, closed the door behind her and sat down with a notepad. Cassy walked over to stand in front of her desk, and then leaned back against it, crossing her arms over her chest.

"First off, I want to reassure you that we have every | reason to believe Jessica's all right, and that she will not be harmed." | The DBS gang looked at each other, j "Secondly, I've called you here to give you our official position on this, and to tell you how things will pro^s ceed from this moment on.

I'm making Kate Benedict! acting executive producer of DBS News, and we are immediately going into anchor rotation. Will and Alexan- j dra, as of now I'm assigning you to a special investigative task force with access to every resource;

Darenbrook Communications has, or our affiliates;;

have, that can help locate Jessica. This includes all the| Darenbrook electronic retrieval systems, and Dr. Kessler will be working with you personally. Detective O'Neal and Agent Cole are to be given complete access to these resources. I've also got Craig Scholer coming up from

D. C. "

Scholer was a prize-winning crime-beat investigative journalist for the Darenbrook newspaper chain.

"The deal is," Cassy continued, "DBS and the Sentinel get the scoop when we bring Jessica home. Until then, no one--no one--but myself may convey information concerning our investigation to the DBS News staff or to the Sentinel. Is that understood? Alexandra?"

The anchorwoman nodded.

"Denny, Alicia--until Jessica gets back, we'll be running 'best-of shows, so I want you working with Dirk to amass a database. We need everything you can remember about the guests and studio audiences--and anything and everything, personally and professionally, that you know about Jessica and anyone who has ever been anywhere near her at any time since you began working with her. This includes going through the fan mail." Denny and Alicia were nodding.

"Dirk, youTI be working with Dr. Kessler to determine the best way to process this information. You are not to talk to anyone else about it, or use anybody in the research department unless Dr. Kessler is physically present. Do you understand?"

Dirk, looking as though he wished to say something--but didn't--nodded.

"And now I'll let Jeff--Detective Hepplewhite--explain what we know thus far. We'll be giving out fact sheets at the end, so you don't need to take notes."

Alexandra reached into her blazer pocket to take out a pad and pen anyway.

There was a knock and then the door opened and Wendy Mitchell was standing there, with a scarf tied over her head and salve over dreadful-looking burns on one side of her face.

"I'd like to help," she said.

After a moment, Cassy said, "Absolutely. Alexandra,

Wendy's going to work with you and Will. You'll fill her in. Wendy, have a seat. "

The bodyguard took the seat Alexandra offered her on the couch.

"That reminds me," Cassy said, turning to Dirk.

"I'd feel better if we got Slim to work security here too, until we clear this up."

"Fine," Dirk said.

"Consider it done."

Cassy turned around.

"Okay, go ahead, Jeff."

"This is what we know," Detective Hepplewhite said, standing up in front of Cassy's desk.

"As Jessica Wright was exiting the party, the lights in the corridor leading to Fifth Avenue were blown out by a power surge of two thousand volts, at which time Jessica was pulled through a steel door off the hall--a building maintenance passageway.

Seconds later, the door was not only locked, but electrified with two hundred and forty volts, preventing pursuit.

"The electric current in the door was deactivated at 8:07 and the door was opened at 8:10, and two things were found--a power-pack battery that had electrified the door and a bomb. At 8:12 a security alert was issued and all of Rockefeller Center was evacuated because of the structural damage such a strategically placed bomb could cause. The bomb squad arrived at 8:26 and defused what turned out to be a cleverly constructed fake at 8:59." He paused.

"Obviously, by that time, the kidnapper had a lead on us.

"We're assuming," Hepplewhite continued, "the kidnapper used the dummy bomb as a means to threaten Jessica into cooperating. We're assuming Jessica did cooperate, but she also did her best to leave a trail. The kidnapper's escape route ran through several underground maintenance tunnels and passageways that snake through the Rockefeller Center complex and ultimately feed into the central furnace room."

"Are you trying to tell us there is only one furnace room for all of Rockefeller Center?" Alexandra asked.

"Yes," the detective answered.

"One furnace for all those skyscrapers, the restaurants, the rink, all of it?" Will said skeptically.

Detective Hepplewhite nodded.

"And the kidnapper not only knew this, but knew the corridors like the back of his hand."

"But we changed the locale of the party at the last minute," Alexandra said.

"How did" -- "We'll get to that," Cassy promised. She looked to Hepplewhite to continue.

"We found Jessica's boots in a maintenance passage off the lobby of the NBC building at 30 Rock. Based on what witnesses have told us, we believe Jessica and the kidnapper put on Con Edison hard hats, ponchos and boots and drove off in a Con Ed vehicle that was parked at a work site outside the Avenue of the Americas entrance."

"So the guy must work for Con Edison, now or in the past," Alexandra said.

"That's how he would know the layout of Rockefeller Center. Or West End. They'd have the building plans on file, wouldn't they?"

"We'll get to that in a second," the detective promised.

"Back to the witnesses--we have several who say two Con Ed workers in hard hats and ponchos climbed into the truck and drove away."

Will dropped his face into his hands again.

"What time was that?" Alexandra asked.

"About 8:09. And at 1:30 a.m. we found the truck in a city maintenance lot down on Twelfth Avenue at Twenty-third Street. We also found several bloodstains at the site" -He quickly held up his hand in anticipation as Will's head snapped up.

"Bloodstains that do not, I repeat, do not belong to Jessica Wright--we've already run the test. We're trying to figure out now if they were from something else, something unrelated to the kidnapping."

A moment later. Will said, "And?"

"And that's where we are," Hepplewhite told him.

"You mean that's where you've lost the trail," Will said, his voice breaking.

"I mean, that's where we are," Hepplewhite insisted.

"More information is coming in every ten minutes."

"This is a summary of the specifics we know right at this moment," Cassy said, passing out sheets to the group.

"Description of Jessica, the outfit she was wearing, witness statements, photos of the bomb, of the power pack, Xeroxes of all the notes from the stalker, including one that was found this morning."

"One this morning?" Alexandra said in surprise.

"You received a note?" Will asked, jumping up.

"Yes, I did" -- "You did?" Alexandra said.

"I did," Cassy confirmed.

"And I'm personally taking it as a very good sign. And I think you should too. This is it," she added, quickly passing out the photocopy.

Dear Mrs. Cochran, Do not fear, Jessica will be safe with me. I can and will look after her far better than you can. The danger is there.

Sincerely, Leopold

"" The danger is there'? " Alexandra quoted.

"He means here?"

"The guy is a wacko," Dirk reminded the group.

"We believe it's part of the game," Agent Kunsa said, speaking up for the first time, "to make us focus on things close to home while he's spiriting her off."

The room fell silent.

"But it could be someone here, couldn't it?" Alexandra said.

.

He never raised his voice, but spoke to her in direct, clear sentences. One minute she had been walking down the hall in Rockefeller Center, the next the lights had exploded and in the next, she had felt two strong hands guiding her while in her ear she had heard, "Careful, Jessica, follow me."

So she had. Idiot. She had thought her kidnapper was one of the security guys.

By the time the steel door had clanged shut behind them and her abductor had turned on a flashlight, it was too late. In fact, if she remembered correctly, she had even said, "Oh, man, am I stupid," when she realized she had just been separated from her protection. The man had quickly moved toward the door to flick a switch attached to a mass that looked something like an electrical octopus. Then he'd stepped back and shone the flashlight beam on something hanging above them a bomb with eight sticks of dynamite.

"I will not hurt your friends if you cooperate, Jessica. But please remember, I can detonate this at any time."

"I'm not going to argue with you," she said. They had warned her that if something like this were ever to happen, she was to go along with it, and essentially do anything he asked, to spare her life. But in this case, it was the life of a lot of other people, too.

"This way, quickly please," he said, guiding her from behind.

Jessica felt she had no choice but to do as he said. They only had to walk through two more short passageways before they reached a corridor where the lights were still working. At this point he urged her to move faster and faster, dictating "left,"

"right,"

"that door," until they were practically jogging through what seemed to be a labyrinth of concrete passageways beneath Rockefeller Center. When they entered an enormous room with the biggest furnace boiler she had ever seen in her life, she purposely dropped her bracelet to leave a trail.

Unfortunately the bracelet clanked when it fell and then rolled over the concrete, and her abductor saw it. Urging her on, he said, "I suppose it will make you feel better that you tried."

"Don't make me want to punch you," she told him automatically, thinking in the next moment. This is not a friend, Jessica! Well, he better be your friend, she thought in the next instant. You better make him your friend and keep him as your friend or you'll end up like Bea.

What amazed her was that her kidnapper was such a pleasant-looking fellow. Dressed in a blue blazer and Dockers and loafers, no less, as though he had just hurried over from his Princeton reunion-committee meeting to kidnap her.

"Please hurry," he said, nodding to the next door.

The next door took them to a long corridor. Then they took a right, another right, and when they reached a dank little room, he stopped and told her to take off her cowboy boots and put on a pair of black rubber boots. They fit. Then she had to put on a big orange slicker,

and finally he plopped a white hard hat on her head that was so big it nearly sat on her nose. He put on a Con Edison jacket and hard hat too and then said, "When we go out, you're going to turn right and head straight out to the street where the Con Ed truck is parked. Get directly into the passenger's-side seat." He blinked and extracted a device from his pocket that looked like some sort of electronic remote control.

"Remember" -- "You won't have to set that off," Jessica told him.

"Really. You've got me--just leave my friends alone."

It was strange how calm she felt, how clear her mind was. She was carefully making mental notes. Her kidnapper was approximately six foot one, about one hundred eighty pounds. Dark brown hair. Brown eyes. Dark mustache. Horned-rimmed glasses. Thin lips. White teeth, a bit crowded on the bottom. A chicken-pock mark or acne scar high on his left cheek. Large hands, thick wrists.

They came out a door to find themselves crossing a marble lobby. But before she could do anything to attract attention, she was guided through a brass revolving door onto what Jessica figured must be Avenue of the Americas. Just as she spotted the Con Edison truck, she managed to drop an earring, then headed straight toward the vehicle and, looking neither right nor left, opened the passenger's-side door and got in.

"You dropped this," her kidnapper said as he got in next to her, placing her diamond earring into her hand.

"Thanks," she said, reaching up to take her hard hat off.

"Leave it on," he told her.

"And put on your seat belt."

She complied. Then she looked out her window, hoping to catch the look of a passerby. There were lots of them, only no one seemed terribly interested in peering inside a Con Ed truck.

"Look straight ahead, please," he said. She did.

He drove across Forty-ninth Street to the West Side Highway extension and turned south. They went about twenty blocks and he turned into some sort of city parking facility on the Hudson River. No one appeared to be around.

"Okay, we get out here," he said. She got out.

"Over there." They walked toward a small, square brick utility building. He unlocked the door and held it open for her. It was a shack with a lot of tools and junk in it. He took the hard hat from Jessica, helped her off with the poncho and pointed to a battered wooden door.

"You may want to use the bathroom before we make the next leg of our trip."

Wordlessly she went to the door and opened it. It was a bathroom that her kidnapper must have prepared for her, because while the John was clean and there was a roll of toilet paper, a bar of soap and a new roll of paper towels, it was the filthiest rat hole of a bathroom she had ever seen. But she used it. Heaven only knew what was next. But she also stuck the earring he had returned to her inside the toilet-paper roll. Since it was a diamond, she was pretty sure someone would pay attention. Try to pawn it, at least.