Her mother must have told Jonathan about the note, and now the FBI suspected its existence because of Jonathan’s awkward behavior.
The waitress put their food on the table. It gave Aubrey a minute to compose herself and think of a response, but as soon as the waitress left, Smolleck continued. “Obviously if there were a ransom demand, it would help us tremendously. We would know who the kidnappers have targeted and what they want. Without it, we’re forced to go in a dozen different directions, and we’re losing valuable time.”
He was right. The more the FBI knew, the more likely they’d be to find Ethan. She realized his purpose in bringing her here was to persuade her to tell him of the note’s existence. Perhaps to shake her from what he may have perceived as the bubble she and her mother were sharing. But she worried the kidnappers would act on their threat and kill Ethan if the FBI was told.
Smolleck reached for one of the coconut shrimp and took a bite. “These are good,” he said. “You should eat something.”
She had no appetite, but she picked up a conch fritter.
“You know, Aubrey, most ransom notes specifically say not to contact the authorities, or the victim of the kidnapping will be hurt.”
He was as much as telling her he knew, but she had to be careful that what she said would help, not hurt, Ethan.
“You said Jonathan seems unusually concerned that my mother is the target of the kidnappers,” she said. “If you think it’s because of a ransom note to that effect, wouldn’t it make sense to pursue that possibility even without confirming that the note exists?”
He threw the shrimp’s tail down on his plate, a look of disgust on his face. She was surprised she felt bad about disappointing him with her hedged response.
“Assuming my mother is the target,” she continued, “is it possible someone from her college years is behind the kidnapping?”
“What interests me is why you think that’s the most likely possibility.”
“I didn’t say it was most likely.”
“But it’s the one you’re directing me to.”
“You’re right,” she admitted. “I think there is something there. But you’re the one who brought up my parents’ past to me, so I started doing my own research.”
“Okay. Fair enough,” he said. “Tell me why you think there’s a connection to Ethan’s kidnapping.”
“I believe my parents had some kind of involvement with a revolutionary group in college. Is it possible someone believes they had something to do with the 1970 explosion, which killed several students, and kidnapped Ethan out of revenge?”
“We’ve been looking into members of Stormdrain who may have had ties to your parents.”
So the FBI was considering this theory as well. Finally, she was getting some information. She steeled herself against what he might reveal about her parents.
“One is a man named Jeffrey Schwartz,” Smolleck said. “He went underground after the explosion, then was involved in a fatal bank robbery a few years later. We haven’t been able to locate him.” He ate another shrimp, as though he were sharing bureaucratic details, not revelations that might turn her world upside down.
“The interesting thing is that around twenty years ago, a man claiming to be Jeffrey Schwartz marched into an FBI office insisting he had secret information about the 1970 explosion.”
“What information?”
“He said the brownstone explosion hadn’t been an accident, and he knew who had blown it up.”
This man knew who blew up the brownstone? She shuddered at the possible significance. But if her parents had been involved, Smolleck wouldn’t be talking to her so matter-of-factly.
“Did he tell you who did it?” she asked.
Smolleck shook his head. “No. He didn’t know anything. We checked out his story. He wasn’t Schwartz, and he hadn’t been anywhere near New York at the time of the explosion. Turns out he was psychotic, suffering from a delusional disorder. He was apparently obsessed with the incident and wanted to get himself in the limelight.”
An idea nagged at her.
Twenty years ago her parents had had a major fight. Earlier today, Kevin had said he believed it had been about a friend of his, because he’d overheard Mama say, “Jeff’s going to be the end of us.” What if her parents had actually been arguing about this Jeffrey? Or was that too much of a stretch?
“And the real Jeffrey Schwartz?” she asked. “What happened to him?”
“We’re trying to find him, as well as a woman named Linda Wilsen. She was badly burned in the explosion. She’s also off the radar.”
“People just disappear?”
“All the time,” he said. “They go to Canada or Mexico, or even hide in plain view with a new identity.”
A breeze brought a strong fishy smell into her nostrils. “What about BBM? Is it possible someone from the company is taking revenge on my parents?”
“BBM? Why are you bringing them up?”
“Baer Business Machines was started by Prudence’s grandfather.”
“We know that.”
“I saw several BBM employees at the Simmers’ command post.”
He frowned, his gray eyes becoming eerily light from the angle of the sun. “Why does that concern you?”
“Because Prudence’s grandfather, Emmet Baer, was on Columbia’s board of trustees from 1965 through 1970.”
He had stopped eating. “I’m listening.”
“Stormdrain was active on campus from 1969 to 1970 and would have been a major thorn in the administration’s side.”
“What does that have to do with BBM?”
“I watched a documentary that was filmed in 1969 of a student takeover of several university buildings. In the documentary, the voiceover claimed that Columbia University was hooked into big corporations who were financing the war machine. One of the corporations they mentioned was Baer Business Machines.”