They Disappeared. Rick Mofina

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ to release that information—but we can expedite them.”

      “Is there anything else you can do with the phone?”

      “We can get a warrant to essentially clone your phone.”

      “What does that mean?”

      “Any calls, texts, downloads—received or sent—will also come to us, to a special line with the NYPD, without the caller or sender being aware. It’s like a tap. It allows us to be on top of any communication that might come from the bad guys. Say, a ransom call, or if your wife or son got to a phone and called for help. And we’ll work with FBI for warrants on your hotel or home and work phones in Montana, all numbers associated directly with you or your wife, in case any calls go there.”

      “I want you to do everything that helps, yes.”

      “We want to be prepared,” Cordelli said. “But the bad guys are smart. They toss the victims’ phones. And they use prepaid disposables that are virtually impossible to track.”

      Hans Beck.

      “Wait. There was a mix-up with Cole’s bag at LaGuardia. I got a call from this guy, Hans Beck. We had his backpack, he had ours and we met near Penn Station late yesterday and traded them.”

      “Anything you can remember about him?”

      Jeff described Beck and explained how he’d obtained Jeff’s cell phone number. Ortiz made notes.

      “He was kind of weird, nervous,” Jeff said. “His number’s on my phone.”

      Cordelli displayed the call list.

      Jeff pointed to it.

      “Did he threaten you, ask for money?” Cordelli asked.

      “No.”

      “How was he weird?”

      “I don’t know—he seemed preoccupied, like something was on his mind. Maybe it was because he was rushed. He said he had to catch a train.”

      “Did you see what was in his bag, drugs, anything unusual?”

      Jeff shook his head and Cordelli and Ortiz exchanged glances.

      “He could’ve targeted your family for a robbery or ransom,” Cordelli said. “Or it could be nothing. We’ll check out the number but it could be a dead end.”

      “Well, what about all these police security cameras everywhere? Can’t you use them to find my wife and son?”

      “Yes, we can,” Cordelli said.

      “Then do it, goddammit! My family’s life is at stake!”

      The detectives let a few tense moments pass in silence as Jeff blinked back his fear, frustration and guilt. He shook his head.

      “Jeff,” Cordelli started, “you’re upset, we understand. But we have people looking. We are investigating as we speak. But we need to be confident that you’ve given us all the information we need.”

      “I’ve told you everything I know.”

      Cordelli went back to examining the photos.

      “Jeff, is Sarah under a doctor’s care? Does she take any medication?”

      “No.”

      “Does she use illegal drugs? Maybe gamble?”

      “What?”

      “We have to ask.”

      “No.”

      “Does she or Cole spend a lot of time online, chatting with strangers?”

      “No.”

      “What was your wife’s state of mind just before this happened? How would you characterize her demeanor?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “I’m looking at these pictures of you, of her, and I’ve got to tell you, your smiles look a little forced. I’m getting the feeling that there’s some underlying stress in your family.”

      Jeff said nothing.

      “Tell us about your family, your marriage. Is it all good out there in Big Sky Country?”

      Jeff searched his heart for the answer.

      “Who’s this?” Cordelli turned the monitor.

      The image nearly winded Jeff. He didn’t know it was there—a beautiful shot of Sarah cradling Lee Ann, who was smiling up at her. Sarah smiled down at the angel in her arms. She’d obviously saved it on his phone.

      “You said you have one child? Who’s this, Jeff?”

      Cordelli’s eyes were like black ball bearings, shining hard.

      “Our daughter.” Jeff cleared his throat. “She died about a year and a half ago. SIDS.”

      “I’m so sorry,” Juanita said tenderly as Jeff’s attention flicked to the snapshot of Juanita and the girl with the butterfly.

      “My condolences,” Cordelli said. “But how would you characterize your marriage since then, up to the point these pictures were taken here, this morning? Would you say there was stress in your family this morning before Sarah and Cole disappeared?”

      Jeff swallowed hard.

      “Yes.”

      “Were you arguing?”

      “Yes.”

      Cordelli shot a glance to Ortiz: bingo.

      “What were you arguing about?” Cordelli asked.

      Jeff stared at the image with restrained anger and said slowly, “I need you to help me.”

      “We are helping you,” Cordelli said. “But we need the truth, all of it. What were you arguing about before Sarah left with Cole?”

      “We’d been having a hard time since we lost our daughter. Cole has always dreamed of seeing New York City, so we came here to give him the trip and to talk about our future.”

      “Were you going to stay together, or separate?”

      Surprised at the accuracy of the question Jeff said nothing.

      “Losing a child can lead to divorce—it happens,” Cordelli said.

      “It’s what we were talking about this morning,” Jeff said.

      “So it would be fair to say your marriage was strained up to the point they disappeared?”

      “I told them to stay right where they were while I bought new batteries for the camera.”

СКАЧАТЬ