Chapter 14

Chapter 14—The art of misdirection

12:45 a.m., Monday, December 26

Jack stopped in his tracks. “What are you now suggesting? You said you would have my daughter with you, in the lobby of my hotel. Now you’re changing the plan?”
“That’s right,” the kidnapper said. “It’s back to Penn Station. Bring the material in the envelope to that same place you had coffee with your daughter earlier. Wait until that same table gets empty, sit down, and tape it to the bottom. Pretty simple, huh? Sit there for only a minute. Call me. Then leave.”
“And my daughter?”
“She’ll be there with us. And we’ll be watching.”
“She needs to be with me before I do anything.”
“You’re not calling the shots here, Chief,” the kidnapper told Jack. “You do what I just told you to do. Tape the message to the bottom of the table. And by the time you get back to your hotel, you will have your daughter. Got it?”
“Doesn’t work that way,” Jack countered. “I’ll meet you in the lobby of my hotel as we originally planned. You send my daughter in ahead of you. When I have her in my possession, safe and sound, I will pass the envelope off to you. Everybody gets what they want, no one has to die.”
“Looks like we’ve reached an impasse,” the kidnapper said. “Fortunately for me, your daughter remembers much of the puzzle. I suspect that with a little coaxing, she will remember more.” The kidnapper paused for a moment to let his words sink into Jack’s mind. Then he continued. “Look, Handler, if you don’t mind what happens to your daughter, then neither do I. I will get what I need, one way or the other.
“Meet me at Penn Station, like I told you, give me the rest of the solutions, taped to the bottom of the table. Be there just before one a.m. Your daughter will be with me. All you have to do is leave the envelope, with all the solutions, all of them, under the table just as I said. You then call me on your daughter’s phone, and leave. I don’t want to be able to see you. You need to walk away from that table at exactly one a.m. I will arrive at that time, and your daughter will be with me. I will remove the message from under the table and examine it. If I am satisfied, I will leave. And you can have your daughter back. She knows where you are staying, right?”
Jack sensed that arrangement could work—with some adaptation. The kidnapper would still be in a position of strength, because if he was not satisfied with the solution of the code, he would kill Kate on the spot.
The fact that it would not be feasible for the kidnapper to bring Kate into Penn Station blindfolded was significant. It meant that his daughter most likely would be able to identify her kidnappers. If that were the case, it would suggest that the men holding Kate were now willing to sacrifice themselves for this mission.
Or, it was possible that they were intending to kill Kate? Jack did not like to think about that.
In either case, Jack knew that there would be more than one person involved with the transfer—so that if anything went awry, there would be a gun aimed at his daughter, and probably at him. But he also knew that this would be the best deal he could possibly get out of this kidnapper. And, because it now seemed to be rapidly unfolding, Jack sensed (or at least hoped) Kate’s chances were improving.
“And when you come, come alone,” the abductor said. “If your buddy follows you out, your daughter’s dead. You come alone, to the coffee shop. If you’re a good boy, you will be able to tell your grandchildren this story. Pull anything, and she dies. Do you understand?”
Jack did not respond, he merely hung up, and dialed up Reginald. “Plans changed,” he told Reginald, who had left the room moments before, and had found a good seat in the lobby.
“Yeah, Jack, what’s up?”
“I’ll be walking out in a few minutes,” Jack said. “I’m just getting on the elevator right now.”
“You got another call?”
“I did, and the meeting is back at Penn Station,” Jack said.
“Shall I head down there now?”
“They made you,” Jack said. “You had better stay put. I’ll handle this on my own.”
“How about I follow you after a few?”
“Won’t work.” Jack admonished. “They’ll be watching for you. In fact, you should stay right where you’re at. If I need you, I’ll call. … It’s gonna be the only safe place for you right now. They know you, but you don’t know them. It could get very dicey for you. Might as well meet me at the elevator, and I will give you my key. Someone might fall on you with an ice pick. … I’m on the elevator.” Jack disconnected, and headed down to the lobby.
When the door opened, he looked around for Reginald, and found him standing and talking with the security guard assigned to check guest cards before allowing them on the elevators. Jack did not say a word to Reginald as he passed him, but he slid his card and remote into Reginald’s pocket. Reginald then reached into his pocket for the card, showed it to the guard, and took a couple steps toward the elevator. But before getting on the elevator, Reginald turned to watch Jack as he headed out of the hotel.
Jack did not bother to look around for the kidnapper’s friend, he simply walked quickly out of the hotel, and headed toward the rendezvous.
As soon as he was outside, Jack immediately proceeded to walk right out onto Eighth Avenue, as though he were planning to cross over before the traffic light. But instead of crossing Eighth Avenue, he remained in the traffic lane, and walked toward the intersection making sure to avoid oncoming traffic. He knew that by doing this, he would discourage anyone who might be following him.
Usually this practice worked. But not this time. Just as he reached the crosswalk, he spotted a young, very muscular man following him, even though he had taken precautions. “Damn it,” Jack silently mouthed. Spinning around, Jack grabbed the man’s right wrist, just as he had started to pull an ice pick out of his pocket. In the same motion, Jack pulled his knife out of his jacket pocket, and shoved it firmly through the man’s jacket, and then slightly downward. Jack did not wish to kill his attacker. He merely wanted to force his blade through the man’s clothes, and to cut him a little.
“Are you sure you want to dance with me, you sonofabi**h?” Jack asked. Even though he could think of nothing he would enjoy more than running the knife through to the man’s spine, piercing his lower intestine. “This is gonna be one slow agonizing death. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
With that, the man tried to step back, but it was too late. Reginald had spotted the man leaving the hotel right after Jack, and he suspected his friend could be in danger. Just as the man attempted to pull his wrist free from Jack’s grasp, Reginald slid an ice pick into the attacker’s back, piercing his left lung, and his heart. He immediately pulled the weapon out, and rammed it into his right lung, this time wrenching the handle to the right, snapping the ice pick off inside the attacker. Death was not only certain, but quick.
Reginald eased the man to the street, and in an affected, effeminate voice, screamed over to a bellman, “call an ambulance, this man is having a heart attack! Oh my God, somebody help him!”
As onlookers pushed in, Reginald spoke loudly to the man he had just killed, “I’ll be right back, I’m going for help.” He then disappeared into the darkness.
Jack had already moved on toward his meeting with his daughter’s kidnapper. “That’s one less problem I got to deal with,” Jack muttered as he picked up his pace.
Reginald’s move on his behalf did not surprise Jack. The two of them always had each other’s back. Jack did think it a bit curious that Reginald used an ice pick. In fact, all the way across Eight Avenue, that was all that Jack could think about. He finally concluded that Reginald was making a point—his State Department man had been killed by this man, or one of his buddies, with an ice pick. “It’s just justice,” Jack thought. “It’s fitting as hell. Get the bastard with the same weapon he used to get your man.”
Besides, Jack liked the use of an ice pick in just such a situation. For starters, an ice pick is an amazingly efficient weapon for an aggressive attack. It is easy to push into a man. In fact, most of the time it will pierce even the best body armor, if enough thrust is exerted behind it. It is more effective than a .357, because it will separate the fibers, and slide through. A round from a .357 will flatten, and most often be stopped by the vest.
In addition, if the ice pick hits a rib, it will redirect itself to softer tissue. A bone will stop most knives.
The greatest advantage is that if the shaft of the pick is ground nearly in two, about three inches from the tip, it can be easily broken off inside the victim. The handle is then removed, leaving the business end below the surface of the skin.
The heart is always the first target. And when the heart is pierced, it immediately ceases to pump blood to the brain, and unconsciousness rapidly ensues, followed by death. It has the appearance of a heart attack. Because the entry wound is so small, any bleeding takes place internally, usually into the lungs. That’s why it is always good to puncture both lungs.
Jack took one last glance behind him, and continued on toward the meeting. He now could hope that he would surprise the kidnapper. After all, it appears as though he was supposed to have been killed on the street, and the envelope removed from his body.
But, thanks to Reginald, the kidnapper did not know he had survived the attempt.
Jack was fairly confident, however, that the kidnapper would be at the coffee shop, as a backup plan. And, he thought that he might even have brought Kate with him.
At any rate, Jack calculated that his chances of saving his daughter had improved with Reginald’s elimination of one of the kidnapper’s buddies. Experience told him that there would be a trap.
As Jack entered the coffee shop in Penn Station, his optimism was rewarded. Standing off to the side was a large powerfully built man, wearing a New York Giants cap, and a Giants jacket. He had his arm around Kate’s waste. Jack noted that, as he suspected, Kate was not wearing a blindfold. Instead she had on a pair of very dark Jackie-O sunglasses.
Jack wasted no time. The table he and Kate had shared earlier was vacant, so he walked over to it and sat down. He then taped the envelope containing the puzzle to the underside, and then walked up to the counter as though to order a cup of coffee. There was no need to make any calls—the kidnapper had observed his obedience. Jack’s question was whether or not he would reward it.
Glancing back toward the table as he waited at the end of a short line, Jack saw the man guiding Kate into the chair across from the table from where he had taped the envelope. His first impulse was to walk right up to the two of them, but then thought it better to let the matter play out.
“Kate could get hurt if I act prematurely,” Jack reasoned.
Just then, he felt a heavy hand clutch his shoulder. Startled, he shoved his hand under his jacket and started to pull out his knife.
“Take it easy,” Reginald advised. He had circled around and entered Penn Station right on Jack’s heels.
“Damn,” Jack muttered, “you startled the hell out of me. What are you doing here?”
“I figured you could use some help,” Reginald said, glancing over his friend’s shoulder. “That’s your daughter, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, they’re both here,” Jack said. “I wasn’t expecting you to make it back so soon.”
“How do you want to handle this?” Reginald asked.
“Here’s what we do,” Jack said, developing his plan on the fly. “Get a good look at this guy. Then position yourself outside the coffee shop. Ideally he will leave alone. Follow him. If he takes the subway, or hits the street, try not to lose him. If Kate is still with him, then take him out. Got it? Giants cap and jacket. You can’t miss him.”
Just as Reginald left, the abductor sat down at the table with Kate. As he did, he reached for and removed the envelope. Jack watched as the man opened and read the contents. A smile crept across the kidnapper’s face when he realize he had the real thing. The man then turned and smiled at Jack, who was still standing nearly thirty feet away. Jack took the smile as a signal that he was satisfied with what Jack had left for him.
“May I help you?” the attendant at the counter asked Jack.
Jack turned to respond, “Yes, a double espresso, please.”
“Will that be all?”
“Yes,” Jack replied, as he turned back to check on his daughter.
During that few seconds when Jack was placing his order, the abductor looked back at Kate, smiled at her, and then double popped her with a gun he had concealed under his jacket on the table. Because he was using a suppressor, Jack heard nothing.
The first round stuck Kate squarely in the forehead, slightly dislodging the sunglasses. The second round struck Kate in the middle of her upper chest, with the bullet lodging in her spine. Both wounds were fatal.
Just as Jack turned back around, he observed that as the abductor stood from the table to leave, he adjusted Kate’s sunglasses, and then left.
Not realizing that Kate had been shot, Jack immediately made his way over to her. As he approached Kate, he did sneak one quick glance at the fleeing abductor. He observed the man dispose of some items in the trash container at the door, just as he disappeared.
“Kate,” Jack said. “Are you okay?”
By the time Jack had reached the girl, he realized that she had been shot. Blood was trickling down the left side of her cheek, and off her chin. Because the entry wound was that of a small caliber revolver, there was not a great deal of blood.
“Kate!” Jack yelled, as he removed the sunglasses to get a better look at his daughter.
The instant he got a look at her face he realized that the girl he had thought was Kate was actually not his daughter. Rather it was a woman about the same age, size and appearance as Kate. And she was wearing his daughter’s coat and scarf.
“My God, child,” he cried, “what have they done to you?”
Even though his instincts told him to pursue the killer, he chose instead to remain with the girl. Jack knew that the process of dying was not instantaneous. Even though this beautiful young girl was technically dead, there was a good chance that her mind was still processing what was happening to her. Jack was not about to let her pass alone.
“Darling,” Jack said, gently taking the girl’s head in his hands. “I am so sorry this has happened to you.” He looked into her eyes one last time. They were the eyes of a dead girl, but her lower lip still moved, as though she were trying to talk.
Jack then placed his lips firmly on the top of the girl’s head, and tenderly grasped her shoulders. “I will talk to your parents. I will tell them what a beautiful child you are. I will stay with you.”
Jack knew that he was lying to her when he said he would talk to her parents—contacting her parents would raise more questions than he could answer. But he did remain with her until he felt her body stop trembling, and life slip away.
Realizing that there was nothing more he could do for her, he turned his attention back to the fleeing abductor, Jack hurried over to the trash receptacle to check on what the man had tossed into it on his way out.
Pushing the hinged door on the trash bin in far enough to get a look, Jack saw the Giants jacket lying on top of the trash. “The cap is certainly in there too,” he surmised. “That means Reg most likely missed him.”
Walking out of the coffee shop, and over to where he had asked Reginald to wait, Jack knew immediately when he saw his friend standing there that the abductor turned murderer had escaped.
Just then Jack’s cell rang. “Kitty” appeared on the display.
“Where’s my daughter, you murdering sonofabi**h? I want ...” Jack said.
“She’s fine, and you’ll get her back. Go back to your room at the hotel and wait for instructions,” the voice on the other end said. “I have one more job for you to do.”
With that the phone went dead.
Jack stood there for a few brief moments contemplating his options. He looked over at Reginald as he returned his phone to its holder, and then walked out to the street.
Reginald followed at a safe distance.