Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery (11 page)

I held out my hand. “Mr. Winthrop, I’m Detective Gino Cataldi.”

He shook my hand with a firm grip, and then stepped aside. “Please come in.”

His manners were impeccable, but he seemed fidgety.

“Has there been any new developments since you called?” I asked.

“Not since I called,” he said. “I’ve tried her cell phone a dozen times with no answer. And she isn’t at school, either.”

The guy seemed almost
too
composed for a father whose daughter was missing and supposedly kidnapped. But there
was
that edginess under the surface.

“Are we sure this is real?” I asked. “The whole country has had a rash of virtual kidnappings.” I looked over at Winthrop, who had taken a seat at the table, which was covered in papers and folders. A computer sat open to his right, displaying a spreadsheet.

Is this guy doing work while his daughter is missing?

“No, I’m not sure,” he said. “I—”

“What
exactly
did they say to you?”

Scott sighed. “In short, they said they had my daughter, and that I had forty-eight hours to get them seven million dollars. They said they’d call back with instructions. I have it recorded.”

I wondered what kind of man had the presence to record a kidnap call. Or worse, recorded all his calls. “Good. We’ll listen to that in a few minutes. About the money. Seven million is a lot. Do you have that kind of money?”

“Not available. I could possibly get it.”

“Have you checked with her friends? Do you have relatives nearby? Any place she could, or would, go if—”

“If she what? Ran away?” Scott shook his head. “We’re not dealing with that, Detective. I can assure you.”

“How so?”

“We’re alone in Texas. Her mother is in New York, and my daughter didn’t like living there.” He got up to get the coffee pot. “The feeling was mutual, so she ended up here.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and asked if I wanted any.

“I think I will, thanks.” I didn’t like his tone, and the way he referred to her as “my daughter” or “she,” but I wasn’t here to judge Scott Winthrop, just bring his daughter home. I waited until he brought a cup for me, then continued. “What about boyfriends?”

“None that I know of.”

None that you know of. She’s seventeen, for Christ’s sake. You better know if she’s got boyfriends.

“Have you spoken to her best friends yet?”

His phone rang. He held up his index finger, as if shushing me. “Hello, this is Scott Winthrop.” He smiled after a brief silence. “No, that’s okay. Go to Seattle. Make the deal if you can. Yes, exactly as we discussed. And take Nancy with you. They seemed to like her.” He listened some more then, “All right. Good. Call me if anything changes. I’ll be on my cell.”

I was still staring at him when he hung up and turned to me. “Where were we, Detective?”

I had already experienced enough of this arrogant asshole. I stood up and spoke with more attitude than I intended. “We were right about the point where your daughter has been
kidnapped
. Or did you forget?”

A voice sounded from behind me. I turned to see a woman standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the entrance hall.

“Scott, what’s going on?” Her voice was forced-meek style, and her outfit was…barely an outfit at all, nothing but a thong underneath a T-shirt.

Scott went to her, and, when she reached up to hug him, her ass cheeks were fully exposed. For decency I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t.

Winthrop broke the embrace. “Jennifer, this is Detective…” He turned to me. “I’m sorry, Detective, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Detective?” Jennifer said. “What happened?” The way she said
detective
made it sound like
monster.
Panic filled her voice.

“Nothing happened, well not to us, but someone…I don’t know where to start.”

Nothing happened? This guy is a real head case.

I stepped forward. “Perhaps I can explain.” I reached my hand out to introduce myself. “Gino Cataldi, ma’am. Once again I apologize for startling you, but Mr. Winthrop called us earlier. It seems as if someone kidnapped his daughter.”

Her hands flew to her gaping mouth. “Kidnapped? Oh my God!” She put her arms around Scott again.

Jennifer had the long dark hair I liked and a hard-earned body, which I
loved.
The smooth tan didn’t hurt either.

“Mr. Winthrop, sir, if we can get started. We can’t afford to delay.”

Scott suggested she go get dressed. “I’m sorry, Detective. I…” He sat in the chair and leaned back. “I’m sure you must think me a supreme ass, but I…I don’t know how to deal with this. I’ve done nothing but work all my life. Faced with something personal, I’m at a complete loss.”

The reality of the situation seemed to be hitting him for the first time. Some people were like that, but it didn’t make dealing with them any less difficult. “That’s all right, Mr. Winthrop, but if we hope to get to the bottom of this we need to get to work unhindered.”

“Certainly. What can I do?”

“Other officers will be coming here, and we’ll have a few technicians to set your phones up for surveillance. We want to be prepared when they call back.”

“Is there a chance this is one of those virtual kidnappings you mentioned?”

I didn’t want to dash his hopes, but I needed to keep him real. “This doesn’t fit the bill. They gave you forty-eight hours. That eliminates the virtual part unless your daughter was going to be away and out of contact that long.”

He nodded his understanding. “I see.”

I now officially felt sorry for Mr. Winthrop. For the first time since entering this house, I felt his pain. And the pain wouldn’t stop until we found his girl.
If
we did. I shuddered as the memory of the Philadelphia kidnappings came back to me.

Chapter 18

Countdown Begins

I
asked Scott for a refill. “What kind of coffee is this? It’s damn good.”

“I get it shipped from a place in the Northwest.” He walked to the cabinet by the refrigerator, pulled out a bag of coffee and the grinder. “It’s called Martin Henry Coffee Roasters. And yes, it is damn good.”

As he brewed, I called Julie. “Coop fill you in?”

“She did, and I’m ready,” Julie said.

“I assume you got a copy of the folder. I need you to track any calls to Winthrop’s number this morning.”

“Won’t take long,” she said.

“Good.” I looked around, whispering, “I also need his financials—personal and business.”

“That will take longer, but not too long. He’s a public figure.”

While I wrote down questions, the thong-panties girl joined Scott. She still hadn’t dressed, which made it difficult for me to focus. Almost impossible to focus. Scott soon returned to the table and, fortunately, or not, she left the room. Winthrop was infusing himself with coffee. I doubted if he would sleep tonight. With the amount of coffee I’d be drinking, I doubted I would either.

Winthrop opted to pace instead of sit. “What do we do?”

“Go over details, look at all possibilities, and prepare. There isn’t much we
can
do until they contact us again.”

“I see,” he said, his hands shaking when he lifted the cup to drink.

“Things aren’t all bad, Mr. Winthrop. We have reason to feel optimistic.”

He didn’t look at me, but he lifted his head a little. “Why is that?”

“They didn’t tell you not to call the cops until near the end of the conversation, almost as if it was an afterthought or a gentle reminder. It seemed to me they
knew
you would. That means we’re not dealing with amateurs.”

“Oh God.”

“No, that’s good. Trouble happens when they don’t know what to expect. If they know how the process works, it’s good for us. And it’s good for your daughter.”

He perked up a little. “What else?”

“They gave you forty-eight hours to get the money. They knew it would be too difficult to do it in twenty-four hours. They haven’t bothered with instructions yet, knowing that information would be lost during the first call.” I patted him on the back, feeling a bit of the hypocrite as I did, but what the hell, if it made him feel better… “I’ve handled kidnapping cases before. We brought the girls back.”

He looked to me with hope in his eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” I said. “No shit.” My gut roiled. I felt like a scum-sucking prick telling him these half-truths.

He smiled. “I appreciate that, Detective. Thanks.”

“Do you have the money?”

He shook his head. “I don’t
have
the money, but I can get it.”

“Then we’d better get working on it.”

“So we’re going to…give them the money?”

I fell back on my first impression. Was this guy really deliberating over money versus his daughter? I looked at my watch, which wasn’t there. A surge of anger ran through me. “Mr. Winthrop, we don’t have a lot of time. They’ll probably call first thing in the morning, and they’ll want to know if you have the arrangements made.” I stared into his eyes. “If you
don’t
, it’s anybody’s guess what they’ll do. I’m not trying to scare you, just being honest.”

“I’ll make some calls,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

***

Scott called Fred, the CFO and waited while he got on the line.

“Scott, what the hell is going on? Where are you?”

“My daughter’s been kidnapped.”

“What!”

“I got the call this morning.”

“Dear God, is she…”

“I don’t know anything other than that they want a lot of money. That’s why I’m calling.”

“Sure, tell me what you need.”

“I need you to call the bank, or several banks, and arrange for me to pick up seven million dollars tomorrow. All in—”

“Seven million! Good God, these people aren’t messing around.” Fred paused. “I’m sorry, Scott. What else?”

“The bills are to be hundreds, with no sequence to the serial numbers, no tracers, and no chemicals on the money.” Scott waited to let Fred digest this. “This is critical. If they suspect I’m trying to trick them, they’ll kill her.”

“Got it. I know who I can call.” He paused again. “Scott, are you alone?”

“The police are here. Why?”

“Have you called the FBI?”

“No, I thought it better if the police handled it. They agreed to keep it quiet.”

Fred lowered his voice. “I know it’s not time to discuss this, but remember the ‘issues’ we spoke of yesterday. What if the IPO doesn’t go as planned?”

Scott took a deep breath. “It will, Fred. Don’t worry. Just line up the money.”

***

Winthrop looked as if he had just fought a battle. For someone who was as wealthy as I’d heard, I wondered what the big deal was. “Problems?”

“Nothing of significance, but as you can imagine, seven million dollars in cash raises a few eyebrows, especially with bankers.”

I nodded, but I
couldn’t
imagine. If Ron were kidnapped, I might be able to raise seven thousand, but I’d have to sell some things.

It was almost two o’clock. We had to get moving. “Mr. Winthrop, do you have any enemies?”

“I’m sure I have many, but none that would do something like this. My enemies are civilized.”

“And your daughter. Does she have enemies?”

Scott laughed. “Detective, what kind of enemies can a seventeen-year old have?”

I didn’t join in the laughter. “You’d be surprised. How about boyfriends? She have any now? Before?”

“I told you before, none that I know of.”

“How does she get to school?”

“A bus picks her up not three blocks from here.”

“When Detective Delgado gets here, I’d like you to show him where the stop is and what route she takes to get to it.”

“Detective, surely you don’t think—”

“Mr. Winthrop, she was taken from somewhere. Between here and the bus stop would be the most likely.”

Scott set his coffee cup on the table. “Strange, Detective. When I said she could live with me, I thought about how safe she’d be here compared to New York. This is like paradise. Then…this happens.”

I let it go for a moment. “It can happen anywhere, sir. It
does
happen anywhere. Did you know that Phoenix is the kidnapping capital of the country?”

He looked at me strangely. “Phoenix? As in Arizona?”

I nodded. “Almost four hundred in the past year.”

The doorbell rang, and Scott jumped.

“It’s probably Delgado,” I said.

He ran to the door. I don’t know what he expected, but I tried being patient, unable to fathom what he was going through. Half a minute later, he returned with Delgado and Connors, a detective I’d seen around but never worked with. My ex-partner, Tip, said he was good though, so that worked for me.

Delgado nodded to me. “Sorry it took so long. I was tracking leads on the Marshall case.”

“Get anywhere?”

“Dead ends. Even Chicky didn’t know anything.”

“You told him you were working with me on this?”

“He already knew. How’s that for connected?”

Chicky was one of the best snitches out there. He was so well-connected he could have made a living from it. I laughed, but I wanted to hit something. If Chicky didn’t know anything, these guys were playing it
real
close.