Talk (The Alexandra Chronicles Book 4) Page 19

  "We were missing two numbers from the plate," Will continued, "but we knew it was a New York combination plate—so it could travel on truck routes and car-only roads. The computers spat out the possibilities and Dr. Kessler narrowed it down to the vans fitting the description and we came up with ten possible vans, all belonging to a fleet owned by the Niagara Power Project upstate. Then we ran a cross-check with our visitor and maintenance logs for West End and we got two hits with the Niagara Power Project—Mark Brewer, forty-three, master electrician with Kraskow Development Corp."

  "Kraskow Development Corp helped to build West End," Kunsa said. "So he would have had access to the blueprints."

  "Exactly."

  "And the other?"

  Alexandra's eyebrows went up. "James T. Plattener, deputy commissioner of the department of energy for New York State." Cassy had picked up the telephone and was dialing a number.

  "Zat milquetoast?" Dr. Kessler burst out. Considering that many of Dr. Kessler's best employees in the Nerd Brigade might fall under this loose categorization, this comment got everyone's attention.

  "You know him?" Will said.

  "Of course I know him," Dr. Kessler said. "Ask Cassy. We haf to deal with him on our power supply and he keeps trying to rescind our tax breaks."

  Cassy said something into the telephone and then looked over. "The city and state offered Darenbrook Communications a package of tax breaks for the first twenty-five years if they built the headquarters here in New York City. There were also guarantees about our power supply and the rate for that power. Every time there's a change in government, though, the new guys try to find loopholes to reinstate some of those taxes, and this year they've been on us about surpassing our power projections. I know Plattener too, and the idea that he's our—"

  She shook her head. And then she paled. "You know—he was just here. The other day. At the sponsor tour."

  "The day the marker holder was left in control room B," Hepplewhite said.

  "Good God, Dirk was right," Cassy said. "He was here that day."

  "A milquetoast, would you say?" Agent Kunsa asked Cassy. "How are his social skills?"

  "Pathetic," Cassy said.

  Kunsa looked at Debbie. "He could be our man." To Alexandra, "What's his connection with Niagara Power?"

  "He was the division head of the technology unit until he was tapped for the department of energy."

  "So where are these guys?" Hepplewhite wanted to know.

  "Brewer's in Niagara Falls, Plattener's got a house in Buffalo and an apartment in Albany."

  "Get on the phone with Niagara Falls, Albany and Buffalo," Kunsa said to Agent Cole. "Tell them we're on our way, but fill them in and tell them to keep surveillance on both of them until we get there."

  "Jackson's plane is at your service," Cassy said. "And I just checked. You can get a lift to the airport from the helipad down the street.”

  Promptly at seven, Leopold slid the bolt back on the parlor door.

  "Come in!" Jessica called. She was back at the card table, working on the puzzle, listening to Hootie and the Blowfish.

  The door opened and there he was. Dressed in a suit and tie again, hair freshly washed and combed nicely, chin freshly shaved. She could see a bit of toilet paper stuck on his throat where he must have nicked himself.

  "Hi," she said.

  "Hi," he said, averting his eyes. He held a large white bag forward. "I brought Chinese."

  "Oh, great," she said, standing up. "I'm really hungry." She gestured to the dining table. "I set the table for us."

  "Thank you," he said quietly.

  "I didn't have any fresh flowers so I took the liberty of using that bowl from the bedroom as a centerpiece."

  "It looks very nice." He withdrew a short, round, solitary candle from his pocket. The kind one might use on an altar.

  "Oh, that's great. I'll put it here," she said, placing it on the table.

  He gave her matches, too.

  "Are you hungry?" she asked him. "Would you like to eat right now?" He nodded, almost shyly. "Then why don't you sit right down there and just let me go wash my hands. I'll be right back"

  She made sure he was settled in a chair before she left. She opened the door to the bedroom, closed it behind her and went over to crouch by Hurt Guy's ear. "He's here." She brought her finger up to his swollen mouth. "Be quiet until I tell you the coast is clear."

  She couldn't tell if he heard her or not. The eye through the slit seemed unfocused. She had no choice but to leave him.

  As she came out the bedroom door she was startled to find Leopold standing right there on the other side of it. "I need to wash my hands, too," he told her.

  "This guy Brewer's a gambler," Dirk said to Alexandra, Will and Wendy. They were sitting in Jackson Darenbrook's plane, still parked on the tarmac at the Marine Terminal, while the FBI agents talked on their respective cellular phones. "From his credit report, it looks like he could use fifty thou just to stay afloat."

  Will shook his head. "I don't think he's Leopold. Look at the wife and kids."

  "Plattener's got a wife and kids, too," Hepplewhite said.

  "But Brewer could be the kidnapper, Will," Alexandra said. "Look at the Niagara Power connection with Plattener. Plattener could be Leopold and he could have been in on the actual kidnapping. Maybe they're working together."

  Kunsa clicked off his cellular and addressed the group. "Well, this is getting more interesting. One of those Niagara Power vans was signed out to Brewer this week."

  "Told you," Detective Hepplewhite said.

  "And right now Brewer's sitting at his girlfriend's house in Niagara Falls watching TV," he continued, rising from his seat.

  "I thought he was married," Will said.

  "The wife and kids are away," Kunsa said, walking to the front of the plane to where the pilot stood waiting. "We're going to Niagara Falls, Captain."

  "Hang on, Norm!" Debbie called, holding a hand in the air. She pressed her phone to her chest. "Plattener's been on vacation for the last two weeks, and he's not coming back until the middle of July."

  Will and Alexandra looked at each other.

  "Our guys are at Plattener's house in Buffalo. No one's home, but it looks like he's been around."

  "Tell them to watch for him and let us know if he comes back," Kunsa said. "And make sure Albany stakes out the apartment."

  Debbie talked into her phone, while Kunsa continued to stand in the aisle by the pilot, evidently rethinking their itinerary.

  "I vote we go to Buffalo," Dirk said. "Plattener's the key. He was there, Norm. At West End."

  He looked at him. "But the van was signed out to Brewer."

  "But Leopold's going to be the one who has her," Alexandra said, "and we think Plattener's Leopold."

  "But we need someone to lead us to Leopold," Kunsa said. "And if Brewer has the van—"

  "I think you should be trying to get a warrant to search Plattener's house," Wendy said.

  "Oh, you do, do you? And on what grounds?"

  "You're the FBI," Wendy told him. "We know you can think of something. Tell the judge he's suspected of having a cache of nuclear weapons. We've got to find her and the answer may be in that house. So let's get to Buffalo—"

  "I'll get into the house myself, if you can't," Alexandra said. "And you can drive to Niagara Falls if you want. It's right near there."

  Kunsa looked to Agent Cole. "Buffalo," she said.

  "Buffalo," Will said, raising his hand.

  "I'd go to Niagara Falls for you," Hepplewhite offered, ''but I've got no jurisdiction.

  "Pulling his cellular out of his pocket again, Kunsa turned around. "Change of destination," he told the pilot. "Buffalo, posthaste." He punched in some numbers. "Kunsa again," he said as he walked back down the aisle. "I need an escort to pick me up at the Buffalo airport."

  19

  "Cass?" Jackson Darenbrook whispered around the door.

  Cassy, lying on the couch in her off
ice, opened one eye. Then she smiled and opened both of them. "Hi."

  "Hi," her husband murmured, coming over to sit on the edge of the couch. (Actually, with his southern drawl, it sounding more like "Hah.") He brushed her forehead with his fingertips and kissed her gently on the mouth. "Darlin', I think you should come home now and get some rest."

  She yawned, covering her mouth, and dropped her hand. "I have to wait. They've all gone upstate." She propped herself up on her elbows. "They've got a lead, Jack. A good one. But Detective O'Neal is all alone here."

  Her husband smiled. "I believe he does have the rest of the New York City Police Department to assist him."

  "Hmm.” She closed her eyes. "I suppose you're right."

  "I've got the car downstairs, darlin'. Chi Chi will forward the calls to our house."

  Her eyes opened again and she had difficulty keeping them that way. They were extremely bloodshot. "All right." He helped her to get up. "But I need to bring—"

  "No, Cass," he said, pulling her back from her desk. "You'll be back soon enough."

  "Oh, but Leopold," Jessica said to her kidnapper, who was standing at the door of the bedroom, "it's such a mess in there, can't you give me a minute to pick up a little? I'd be so horribly embarrassed if you saw the rooms the way they are now. Particularly after all the trouble you went to, to make them so nice." She held her breath. While the bedroom was in good shape, the bathroom looked like a field hospital, with the strips of bloodstained bandages and towels she had tried to wash hanging in there, and the witch hazel, aspirin, tissues, napkins, spoons, razor blades and pans all lined up on the shelf like a small pharmacy.

  "I could wash my hands in the kitchen sink," Leopold offered. "I don't have to—" He blushed scarlet, eyes dropping to the floor. "But it's very important to wash your hands before eating," he added softly.

  "Oh, thank you, Leopold," she said. "Why don't you go ahead and do that and I'll pick up in the bathroom—just in case."

  "That won't be necessary," he said gallantly.

  It's not necessary, but it gives me an idea. You didn't lock the door behind you, did you? And you wouldn't have an electric field on if you had to walk through it to get here, would you? So if I get you in the bathroom, I could just run out and get away.

  "Oh, but I insist," Jessica said. She touched his arm to guide him toward the kitchen, but her touch made him jump. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!"

  "No, no—no," he stammered, backing away from her, eyes still on the floor, clamping his right hand over the place on his arm where she had touched him. "I am all right," he declared—sounding very uncertain about it, however—and he went reeling off toward the kitchen.

  Oh, man, was this guy whacked-out.

  "I'm just going to go in and pick up," Jessica called.

  "Th-th-th-that will be no-no-no-not-will not be ne-ne-ne-" He was back in the doorway, his eyes closed. When they opened again, he spat out, "Necessary."

  Great. He couldn't look at her, couldn't be touched, found hand washing very important and now stuttered and stammered. Somehow Jessica did not find this personality profile particularly reassuring.

  While Leopold washed his hands in the kitchen, Jessica grabbed all the stuff in the bathroom, shoved it into the shelves and covered it with a clean towel. When she came back out, she found Leopold standing by the table, waiting. He had lit the candle and there was the faint smell of vanilla in the air. He held the chair out for her and they sat down at the table and served themselves out of the cartons.

  It caught Jessica off guard when he requested one of the steak knives he had stocked the kitchen with since, at the moment, one of those steak knives was under the cushion of the sofa and the other was under her pillow in the bedroom. The question was, how to gracefully retrieve one without explaining that she had hidden them so to stab him to death in case of an emergency?

  "Surely," she said in response to his request, jumping up from her chair. "Oh! There's that puzzle piece!" she cried, feeling a little like a Lillian Gish character in a silent movie as she fluttered over to the couch as if spotting the piece she had been looking for all her life upon the cushion. She slid her hand under the pillow, grabbed the knife, moved over to the puzzle table and put her hand down as if to lay the piece among the pile, and then, whistling, went fluttering off to the kitchen. Then she came back out, handed him the steak knife, and dinner resumed.

  Leopold had excellent table manners. In fact, she found the way he effortlessly handled his utensils more than a little unnerving. The only other person she had ever seen use a knife on spare ribs had been a plastic surgeon.

  Physically, Leopold seemed to be normal. He was not very manly, and his complexion was sallow, but he dressed well and Jessica knew if he could get the skittering eye thing under control and was not flustered into stuttering, he could pass for normal. Well, unusual, but not certifiable. He was clearly some sort of genius. And he was crafty. Still, one would think that someone who had as many dysfunctions as Leopold did would have drawn notice long before this. Surely someone somewhere must suspect this guy for something.

  "Leopold," she began, after bringing him a cup of plain tea at the conclusion of their meal, "I was wondering if you could take me out for some air tonight."

  "No, I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking down at the table.

  "But I promise I'll behave."

  He looked at her for a moment and then, as always, quickly averted his eyes. "No. Not tonight."

  "Maybe tomorrow?"

  "Maybe tomorrow," he said. His eyes narrowed and darted over to stare at her breasts for a moment before darting away again.

  "Is it because I might get electrocuted?"

  He looked at her again.

  "You said in your note that you had an electric field set up to protect me." He dropped his eyes and pushed his cup around in the saucer. "It's just that my sinus trouble's starting up," Jessica said, "and I don't want to get sick."

  He reached into his pocket and brought out a brown prescription vial and placed it on the table. "I got you these. Penicillin."

  "Oh, bless you!" she cried, reaching for them and standing up. Maybe they could do something for Hurt Guy. "I'm going to take one right now with some water." She went into the kitchen, made some noises and came back, finding him staring at her breasts again. "Oh my, I feel better already, just knowing that I have it. Thank you so much."

  "Welcome," he murmured, lowering his eyes and sipping his tea with his pinkie extended. She sat back down. "Dinner was great. Thanks again for that, too."

  He nodded.

  "And I want to thank you again for saving my life." She was wondering if maybe she should try to kill him. He smiled, eyes on the table. He had crooked little teeth.

  "I was wondering if you could tell me who it is that has been trying to hurt me."

  How would she do it? With the steak knife? Hit him over the head with a bookend? If he looked at her chest again, she just might try to strangle the son of a bitch.

  Watch it, she told herself. Remember, this guy is a real killer.

  "Two of them are dead," he said in a conversational tone of voice, as if confirming her thoughts. He sipped his tea.

  "And one of them was Bea Blakely,” Jessica said.

  He put down his cup with a clatter.

  His hands were small and soft-looking, the fingernails were clean but bitten to the quick. It was hard to believe these hands were capable of inflicting the kind of beating Hurt Guy had received.

  "Yes," he said in scarcely a whisper.

  "Who was the other?"

  "A man." He was getting nervous now; that hand was starting to do that reflex-jerking thing again. "What man?"

  "He was going to kill you."

  She caught her breath. It had never occurred to her that Hurt Guy might have wanted to murder her. That was the easiest way to conceal a kidnapping victim, wasn't it? Just murder them and stick the body somewhere?

  Good God, had she been tr
ying to keep her would-be murderer alive back there?

  No. She didn't believe it. The man who had taken her out of Rockefeller Center would not have hurt her. But then, what did she know about killers? Surely people were nice to turkeys too before Thanksgiving.

  "Did the man kill my secretary?" When he didn't answer, she asked, "Do you know about that, Leopold? About how Bea died?"

  He stood up abruptly, his chair crashing backward to the floor.

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you!" she pleaded.

  Jessica thought she heard something from the bedroom and so she jumped up too and shouted, "Leopold, I'm sorry!"

  He had turned around and was facing the door, his back to Jessica, his arms crossed over his chest like a pouting child.

  "I know you're protecting me, Leopold, I know you've saved me from something horrible. And if you had to kill Bea, I know it's because you were protecting me. If you did it, it was because you had to, I understand that. Please don't be upset with me. I'm—" She broke down and started to cry, which, frankly, wasn't very hard to do under the circumstances. "You're all I've got, Leopold," she said, sobbing.

  In the next moment Leopold was holding her in his arms and she was crying on the padded shoulder of his suit.

  While Alexandra and Will and Hepplewhite dozed on the flight to Buffalo, Agents Kunsa and Cole had been on their telephones. This time when Kunsa hung up he said to Dirk, "You've got to keep a leash on this crew."

  "You brought them," he complained.

  "They're very helpful," Agent Cole murmured. "I'm happy to take charge of them."

  Kunsa glanced over at Alexandra. "If anything happens to her..."

  "I'll keep an eye out," Dirk said.

  Alexandra cracked one eye open slightly, and then quickly closed it as Kunsa's gaze came her way.