NYPD Red 6 - James Patterson Page 0,88

nineteenth he writes, ‘Erin and I had our secret rendezvous down by the water.’ I tracked her walking through the park to the Long Island Sound.”

“How many cameras do we have in the park?” I said.

“Not a one. Sorry. It’s Pelham Bay, Zach, not Central Park.”

“Then why are you getting my hopes up?”

“Because on May twenty-seventh, Bobby writes about walking through the park and smelling the horses.”

“I read that,” Kylie said. “I figured he was talking about the hansom cabs in Central Park.”

“NYPD mounted troop D has its stables in Pelham Bay Park,” Diaz said. “Maybe those are the horses he smelled.”

“Maybe won’t cut it with the DA,” Kylie said. “Even if you can put Dodd in the same location as Erin, that doesn’t prove anything. He stalked her wherever she went. Unless you get us hard evidence that they were together, the only thing that tells us is that Erin Easton was being followed by a crazy person. And without any cameras in the park—”

“That’s what I thought,” Diaz said, cutting her off. “And then it dawned on me—those stables are a department asset, and like every NYPD facility, it’s on camera twenty-four/seven. I called the desk sergeant this morning, and he verified it. I sent one of my guys over there to download the footage from May twenty-seventh. He should be back here in an hour.”

“Benny,” I said, “if you can find proof of Erin and Bobby together, it’s going to blow her story out of the water and turn this case on its ear.”

“I think maybe I can,” he said. “And if I do, it’s going to cost you guys a lot more than a bagel.”

CHAPTER 77

KYLIE AND I had Erin’s cell phone records on file. We dug them out and tracked back to the days and times that Benny had zeroed in on.

In all three cases, Erin’s phone was off. It didn’t prove a thing, but it was highly coincidental that the woman who almost never pulled the plug on her cell had rendered it untraceable during the exact times that we suspected she and Bobby were together.

An hour went by. And then another. And then Benny called and said three words that would change Erin Easton’s life forever.

“We got her.”

Minutes later, Kylie and I were in Benny’s office. “Most of the cameras are pointed at the stables,” he said. “But this one is mounted above the stalls, and it picks up a nice wide swath of the park. I cued it up at a minute before we see them just so you can get the feel of things.”

He rolled the footage. It hardly seemed like we were watching a crime surveillance video. The day was sunny, the resolution was excellent, and the park was lush and green.

And then they appeared. Erin was in what McMaster had jokingly called the standard celebrity disguise. It was about as effective as putting a Groucho Marx mustache on George Clooney. She was entirely recognizable.

Next to her, as big as life, was her stalker, the man three judges had ordered to stay away from her—Bobby Dodd. Not only were he and Erin in the same frame, but they were talking, laughing, and holding hands.

Benny froze the image, and I could imagine it splashed across every front page around the world.

“She’s playing him,” Kylie said, practically yelling at the screen.

Diaz smiled, proud of his contribution.

“Good police work, Benny,” I said. “But it doesn’t prove a thing.”

The smile faded fast. “Why not? It’s two weeks before the kidnapping, and I just showed you a picture of the two of them together.”

“And I can show you pictures of Trump and Hillary together,” I said.

“But not holding hands and frolicking in the park,” Kylie said.

Diaz laughed out loud. “So you agree with me,” he said to Kylie.

“No. Unfortunately, I have to agree with Zach. It sure as hell looks like she’s prepping him, plotting out the kidnapping and everything else that came down the pike, but any first-year law student could get up in front of a jury and fill their heads with reasonable doubt.”

Diaz looked at the image on the screen and then turned back at Kylie. “I don’t know,” he said. “It looks pretty damning to me.”

Kylie cleared her throat. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” she said, her eyes drilling into Diaz. “Erin Easton was an international media star who was about to marry an incredibly successful, powerful, and wealthy man. Why would she suddenly throw that all away to team