NYPD Red 6 - James Patterson Page 0,37
the broadcast, but ten minutes into the production, with #ErinsHostageTape trending, Harris Brockway made the announcement.
His face without expression, his voice somber, he said, “We apologize for the disturbing nature of what you are about to see, but all of us here at ZTV take heart that our brave friend and colleague is still alive and well and that despite all she has been through these past twenty-four-plus hours, her indomitable spirit remains unbroken.”
A chorus of profanity was hurled at the screen from every direction. Brockway might be able to con the public, but every cop in the room saw right through him.
The screen went dark and then faded up on a close-up of that morning’s edition of the Daily News. Erin’s picture and the single word taken were on the front page.
The camera pulled back as the newspaper was lowered. And there stood Erin Easton, hair disheveled, no makeup, eyes puffy from crying, wearing a pair of baggy gray sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt.
“She looks like shit,” Kylie said.
“I think that’s what he’s going for,” I said. “The worse she looks, the more likely Jamie is to pull the ransom money together.”
“I don’t know who’s watching this,” Erin said. “Probably my husband, and the police, and maybe someone at the network. Whoever it is, I want you all to know that I’m … I’m … ” She started to sob. “I’m okay.”
She put her hands over her eyes, and we watched in silence as her shoulders heaved and her body shook. After about thirty seconds she lowered her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not okay. I mean, he didn’t hurt me, but I want to go home. I have to go home. I’m …”
She looked down at the floor. When she looked back at the camera, she inhaled and stood tall.
“Jamie … sweetheart … I was going to tell you this at the wedding after I performed my song. I’m pregnant.”
Part Two
* * *
ERIN IN EXILE
CHAPTER 33
THE CAMERA DRIFTED in on Erin as her eyes welled up, and a tear, glistening like a single pearl, rolled down her cheek. She brushed it away and took a deep breath. She was about to say something else when the screen went dark. Dodd had cut the video. If Jamie Gibbs wanted to see more, he’d have to pay for it.
“And now,” Brockway said as the camera cut back to him and his wife, “we learn that the stakes are doubled. The fate of two people hangs in the balance—Erin Easton and her unborn child. Anna, what do you have to say about that heartbreaking video we just witnessed?”
I didn’t care what either of the Brockways had to say. I headed toward the door and signaled Kylie to follow. She didn’t budge. She had her phone to her ear, and she held up her other hand. I waited until she hung up. “We’re not going anywhere,” she said. “Cates wants us here.”
“Doing what?” I asked. “We need to go to the station and get our hands on that video. When did it come in? Who delivered it? Who touched it? If there’s any chance there are prints on it—”
“Zach, if there are any prints on it, I’m guessing they’ll belong to Dodd,” Kylie said. “Cates told me to send a team to do a follow-up interview with the Brockways and bring the video back to the lab. She wants us to stay right here.”
“Why?”
“Snow White is coming.”
“That’s great,” I said. “Because I was starting to worry that there weren’t enough bosses with their thumbs in this pie. So glad the chief decided to heap on another one.”
There were two deputy chiefs in the Detective Bureau with the same exact name—John White. It was inevitable that they’d get nicknames so people could tell them apart. One was notoriously stingy when it came to approving overtime. He became Tight White. The other was an old-school devout Catholic. He’d been in the department for over thirty years, and no one had ever once heard him utter a single word of profanity. He was christened Snow White.
Chief White arrived twenty minutes after the video had aired, which gave us enough time to catch up with Bill Harrison. By the time we stood face-to-face with Chief White in Captain Cates’s office we had some answers—none of them good.
“I’ve been involved in more kidnappings than I care to count,” White said. “But never have I had a case get so far out of my grasp that a proof-of-life video