NYPD Red 6 - James Patterson Page 0,17

trained in self-defense, weaponry, concealment, and survival techniques. He’s smart. Not like Jeopardy! smart; more like Rambo smart. If he decides to go underground and squirrel Erin away in some cabin in Idaho or Montana or God knows where, we’ll never find her.”

“You have a file on him?” I asked.

“A fat one. I can access it from my phone and send it wherever you want.”

“For starters, e-mail it to me and Kylie. We’ll open up a case with Real Time Crime and get people down at One PP digging up anything and everything they can find on Dodd. The private correspondence you have from him to Erin won’t be on their radar, so thanks—that’ll help.”

“We should call in the Violent Felony Squad,” Kylie said.

The computer cops at Real Time feed us valuable data, but they never leave their desks. The Violent Felony Squad is an elite team that will visit Dodd’s known hangouts, comb through his social media activity to track down possible accomplices, check his credit card usage, and try to find him by analyzing dozens of his other daily habits, patterns, and routines.

“I agree,” I said. “Violent Felony will give us eyes, ears, and feet on the street.”

“Are you sure that’s as deep as you want to go?” McMaster said. “We’ve got Dodd’s picture. If you release it to the media, you’ll have eight million pairs of eyes looking for—”

Kylie cut him off. “Dodd doesn’t know we know who he is. If we release his picture to the media or even just circulate it through the department, he’s going to find out. And if he’s as cunning as you say he is, once he knows we’re onto him, he may drop off the face of the earth completely. Violent Felony is the best way to do an intense search and keep it contained.”

“Your call,” McMaster said. Clearly he didn’t agree. But at least he was finally coming around to the understanding that he didn’t get a vote.

Kylie and I had bent the rules by bringing him up here. It had paid off because as Erin’s chief of security, he’d recognized the perp. But without that bird on his shoulder anymore, this was as far as he was going to go. I figured it would be easier on him if Kylie cut him loose. I gave her a head nod, and she caught it.

“Thanks for everything, Declan,” she said. “I got the e-mail you sent. Zach and I are going to shoot up to the Bronx and check out Dodd’s last known address.”

“I don’t suppose I could come along for the ride,” McMaster said. “I’d be willing to take a vow of silence.”

“Sure thing,” she said. “But since we’ll be out there trying to pick up information that will be used in court, I really should give the DA’s office a call and see if they still have that pesky rule about not letting civilians tag along on an active investigation.”

He laughed. “I’ll grab a cab back to the Hammerstein. Keep me in the loop.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “As much as I can.”

The three of us knew that wouldn’t be much, but it was better left unsaid.

CHAPTER 14

THE PELHAM BAY section of the Bronx is a safe, desirable, historically Italian-American neighborhood whose streets are lined with mature trees, moderately priced family cars, and post– World War II architecture.

“Welcome to 1955,” Kylie said as she pulled the car onto Zulette Avenue, where many of the homes were red brick with metal awnings and wrought-iron railings. She parked in front of a house that fit the mold, right down to the American flag in the window.

The lights were on in several rooms upstairs, but the downstairs, with its separate entrance to a basement apartment, was dark.

“The landlady is awake, the perp is in the wind,” Kylie said as we walked up a flight of brick stairs and rang the doorbell.

“Who is it?” a woman’s voice demanded from inside.

“Police,” Kylie said as we both held up our shields to the peephole. “We’d like to speak to Lucille Speranza.”

“About what?”

“Your tenant.”

Most people can’t hide the way they feel about cops, and they usually give themselves away immediately. I can break them down into three basic groups: those who are spooked by anyone in law enforcement; those who basically respect us and appreciate what we do; and those who distrust, don’t like, or downright hate us on sight.

As soon as Mrs. Speranza opened the door, I could tell she fell squarely into that last