Main Entrance, Sixth Precinct, May 27, 3:42 p.m.
Lutz and Hirsch had been standing in front of the station for fifty-seven minutes. There had been no sign of Dr. Drummond or Edward Parks, and the two former intelligence agents were beginning to doubt there would be. Hirsch scanned the passing pedestrians. “This is a jerk-off.”
Lutz agreed. “They’re either already inside, or holed up somewhere.”
“If they’re inside, we’re going to need help getting them out.”
“I think the cavalry just arrived.” Lutz was staring at two black Suburbans, which screeched to a halt in front of the station. Six Homeland Security agents got out of each van, moving quickly toward the entrance to the station. “Thanks for coming.”
The lead agent was more amused than annoyed. “Who the hell are you?”
“We work for Michael Barnes at Harmony House.”
The agent stared at them blankly. “Who the hell is Michael Barnes?”
Hirsch and Lutz waited for the agent to crack a smile and let them in on the joke. But the federal agent was dead serious. Lutz didn’t like being toyed with. “He’s the one who sent you here, asshole.”
“No, he didn’t. The director of Homeland Security, Arthur Merrell, did. I’m Agent Harold Raines. Step out of the way.”
Lutz didn’t move. “Call your boss. You were sent here to assist us.”
“You’ve been misinformed.” Agent Raines turned to his associates. “Arrest him if he doesn’t move.” The agents eyeballed Lutz, waiting. After a moment, Lutz stepped backward, allowing Raines and the others from the Department of Homeland Security to enter the police station. All except two, who remained by the entrance with the Harmony House security personnel.
Hirsch stepped away from them as he dialed Michael Barnes. “Sir, we have a situation.”
The station went eerily quiet as Raines led the parade of Homeland Security agents toward the office of Deputy Inspector Nataro. Every cop, perp, lawyer, victim, witness, and loved one stared with curiosity as the dark-suited men marched past them. What the hell was going on? Everyone had a guess. It must have something to do with the subway gas attack. Did the agents know who did it? Was the perpetrator in the building?
Suddenly, everyday adversaries were united against the enemy that had ripped open the wound this city would never recover from. They readied their cell phones to snap pictures or tweet the news. Some didn’t even bother to wait, and speculated on the proceedings. If they guessed right, they might even become famous. Sadly, no one was ever punished for being wrong these days. And no one was rewarded for coming in second. All anyone cared about was breaking a story, whether they broke the right one or not.
Deputy Inspector Anthony Nataro acted surprised as Agent Raines was led inside his office. “What can I do for you?” Of course, Nataro knew damn well what the agent was there for, but the deputy inspector was never one to tip his hand.
“I’m here to transfer the federal prisoners you have in custody.”
“Which prisoners would those be?”
Agent Raines handed him the transfer order, which was signed by Department of Homeland Security Director Arthur Merrell.
Nataro reviewed the document. “If we had them, I’d give them to you. But we’re still waiting for Detective McHenry to turn himself in.” He lied incredibly well. Which was why he was going to make a great politician.
Raines was clearly getting frustrated. “When is the last time you had any communication with him?”
“About forty minutes ago.”
“Mind if I wait with you?” It came out like more of a statement than a request.
“Be my guest.” He gestured for the agent to sit on the couch, which he did, stretching out in a way that made it clear he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon. Not without what he came for.
Raines got on the phone with his people. Nataro did the same, connecting with Detective Lieutenant Victoria Daniels. “Do we have an update on the McHenry situation?”
Victoria was inside Interrogation Room Five, standing next to Butler McHenry. She was still trying to process the lecture on acoustic archeology she had just been given as she stared at the echo box performing its synchronized ballet. “Momentarily,” she told her boss into the phone. “Let me call you back.” She hung up, turning to Skylar. “Forgive me, Doctor, but I was never much for science.”
Butler chimed in. “It’ll make more sense once you’ve heard something you would remember. Eddie, if the detective lieutenant gives you a date and time, can you play that back for her?”
Eddie was uncomfortable around the stranger, never looking up from his computer screen. “How will she give it to me?”
Butler turned to Skylar for help. She translated for Eddie. “Detective McHenry believes that Ms. Daniels will better understand how the echo box works after you play her a demonstration. If she tells you a date and time, will you play those echoes for her?”
“Why didn’t Detective McHenry just say that?”
Butler was unable to bite his tongue. “I did.”
Skylar intervened. “Detective Lieutenant, when were you most recently in this room?”
Victoria answered, “Last Monday, the twenty-second. About three thirty.”
Without looking at her, Eddie asked, “Morning or afternoon?”
“Afternoon.”
Eddie plugged in the date and time, studying the particular waves originally produced at that time. There were four distinctly different waves visible. “There were four people in this room.”
“That’s correct,” Victoria responded, clearly impatient.
“Was one of them a suspect you were interrogating?”
“Yes.” The detective lieutenant was quickly concluding this was a waste of time.
“Did the suspect tell you the truth?”
Skylar jumped in. “Eddie, please just hit ‘Play.’”
He nodded and hit “Play.” The voices came through clearly, with little distortion, due to the characteristics of the room: it was small, the surfaces were hard, there were no windows, and the echoes were recently produced.
SUSPECT, crying: I swear to God, I don’t know where she is!
Eddie made his BUZZER sound.
“Shh.” Skylar motioned for him to remain quiet. He nodded apologetically.
VICTORIA: Tell me where she is, Henry.
The lieutenant’s voice in the recording was neither intense nor threatening. It was utterly devoid of emotion, which was what made it so frightening. Skylar watched the diminutive woman closely as she listened to herself and couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Victoria now understood the science, or at least the importance of it.
SUSPECT: I don’t fucking know! What are you, deaf?!
Eddie winced. The screaming hurt his ears.
VICTORIA: If this little girl dies, I will do everything in my power to have you put to death. And on the day your miserable life ends, I promise I will be there, because I will want to watch you beg, and have absolutely nobody care.
Skylar glanced at Eddie. “That’s enough.” Eddie hit “Stop.”
Victoria Daniels glanced around the room. “Where’s the bug?”
Eddie started scanning every square inch of the floor, looking for the insect she must be referring to.
Skylar answered the detective lieutenant. “There isn’t one. Neither of us has ever been inside this room until a few minutes ago.”
Butler McHenry addressed his superior, emphasizing every word. “Any room. Any conversation. Ever.”
All Victoria Daniels could say was, “My God.”
“Exactly.” Butler now had the same expression Skylar had had when she’d watched him first understand the gravity of the situation. He had an ally, and that was good.
Skylar addressed Eddie, who was still searching the floor. “I should have told you that the bug Ms. Daniels was referring to was a recording device, not an insect.”
“The detective lieutenant should have been more specific, then.” He turned toward Victoria without looking at her. “You were not very nice to Henry.”
Victoria stared at him, dumbfounded. “Henry wasn’t a very nice person.”