NYPD Red 6 - James Patterson Page 0,6
she was going to put on something different for the show.”
“What show?”
Ringel shrugged and looked at his boss for an answer.
“She was planning to perform a couple of musical numbers for the crowd,” McMaster said. “It was the network’s idea. They wanted to jazz up the special.”
Kylie turned back to Ringel. “When you spoke to her, what kind of mood was she in?”
“Great. Happy. I mean, she just got married, and she looked like a million bucks.”
“And once she went inside, did anyone try to get in?”
“You mean in the front door, right? Because I wasn’t in charge of the back door.”
Kylie nodded. “Front door.”
“No. I was here the whole time. Nobody tried to get in until that Brockway guy from the network showed up. Erin had told me to keep him out, so I did. Then he left and came back with Inspector McMaster, who had the key. He’s the one who unlocked the door.”
“Do you remember the exact time Erin went into her dressing room?” Kylie asked.
“The exact time?” He looked at Kylie like she had just asked him a trick question and he wasn’t falling for it. “No. I wasn’t keeping a log. I’m thinking it was probably around seven, maybe seven fifteen—whoa, wait a minute. I can tell you the exact time.”
He dug his cell phone out of his pocket, hit a few buttons, and flashed us a photo of him and Erin in her wedding gown. “We took selfies,” he said. “They’re time-stamped. She went into the dressing room at seven oh eight p.m.”
McMaster exploded. “You took pictures? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“Sir,” Kylie said, treading the fine line between I-respect-who-you-are and This-is-my-rodeo. “I just have a few more questions, and then he’s all yours.”
McMaster deferred to her.
“Let’s see what you got, Lenny,” Kylie said.
Ringel scrolled through several more pictures—one with the two of them smiling at the camera, one where Erin stuck her tongue out, and finally one where she was planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Pretty kick-ass, right?” Ringel said. “She did it as a favor for my girlfriend, Darcy. Real nice of her. I hope you find the bastard who took her.”
“Lenny, I’m going to have to take your phone,” Kylie said.
“My phone? Why?”
“Those are the last known photos of Erin Easton before she was kidnapped. They’ll be very helpful in our investigation.”
“Oh, jeez … you really need my phone?”
“Yes,” Kylie said, holding her hand out. “I’m afraid your girlfriend is going to have to wait before she gets to see them.”
“She won’t have to wait,” Ringel said, reluctantly putting the phone in Kylie’s hand. “I … I texted them to her as soon as Erin left.”
McMaster couldn’t hold back. “Damn it, Ringel, you were hired to safeguard these people, not socialize with them. This is why I put you back here, away from a roomful of celebrities. Detective MacDonald, please give this idiot his phone back so he can call his girlfriend and tell her to delete those pictures immediately.”
“Boss,” Ringel said, not reaching for his phone, “it’s too late. By now those pictures are out there.”
“Out where? ” McMaster demanded.
Ringel couldn’t bring himself to say the word. Instead he twirled two fingers in the air as if to downplay the size and scope of the worldwide network that would connect billions of people to the pictures of a New York City cop clowning around with the woman he was hired to protect.
I could almost see the headline in tomorrow’s Post: “Erin Easton Kidnapped While Starstruck NYPD Cop Mugs for Camera.”
Somewhere toward the bottom of the story they might get around to saying he was a retired cop. But the takeaway would simply be “fuckup cop.” The damage-control department at 1PP would be working overtime.
“Out there,” Ringel finally said. “You know …”
We knew. And there was nothing we could do about it.
CHAPTER 5
MCMASTER FIRED RINGEL on the spot.
It came as no surprise to Kylie or me. Lenny, on the other hand, was predictably blindsided.
“For what? A couple of harmless pictures?” he said as one of the other security guards escorted him out the door.
I knew men like McMaster. He’d take full responsibility for Ringel’s failings, but this was not the time to explain or apologize. He went right to the task at hand. He looked at his watch. “She went in there at seven oh eight. If the kidnappers took her early on, they have close to an hour-and-a-half lead on us.”
McMaster might have claimed he was just a