Unintended Consequences - By Stuart Woods

54





Dino pressed a button on his iPhone. “Captain Andrew Shirah, please,” he said into the instrument. “Chief Bacchetti calling. Stone, have you got a picture of Helga?”

Stone went to the photo page on his phone and found a shot he had taken in Paris. “Here you are,” he said, showing it to Dino.

“E-mail it to me,” Dino said. “Andy? Dino Bacchetti. I’m about to e-mail you a picture of a missing woman. Hang on.” Dino switched screens and e-mailed Helga’s picture, then went back to the phone. “Her name is Helga Becker, she’s Swedish, six feet one or two, a hundred and fifty pounds, give or take. She’s been kidnaped by a Russian gang, and I think they’re on the way to your precinct with her. I want you to turn out in force, flood the area with plainclothes people, but no uniforms or marked cars, and no lights or sirens. If the locals see us coming, they’ll clam up. Show the picture around and tell them she’s a Russian girl who’s been kidnapped. They may have her in a Ford van, gray, and they’re probably going to take the van indoors to a garage or other building. Got it? Keep me posted on my cell. Thanks, Andy.” Dino hung up. “Andy Shirah is one of the best cops on the force, and he’ll do everything that can be done in Brighton Beach.”

An ambulance pulled up to the curb; Stanley had regained consciousness and was sitting up. “I heard that,” he said to Dino. “You need me for this. I know the territory and a lot of the people.”

“You shut up and lie down,” Dino said. “You’re going to the hospital and get patched up and x-rayed.”

But Stanley was struggling to his feet. “You,” he said to an approaching EMT. “Get my head bandaged right here. I’m not going with you.”

Dino shrugged and nodded at the EMT. “Do it.”

The EMT looked at the back of Stanley’s head and got a compress on it. “He’s going to need stitches.”

“Tape it shut,” Stanley said, “and don’t argue with me.”

The EMT made him sit on the fender of a car while he applied a dozen butterfly bandages to the wound. “That will hold it, if you don’t move around too much.”

“Stanley,” Dino said, “go sit in the front passenger seat of my car and don’t move. All you’re going to do is talk, nothing else. You got that?”

“Yes, Chief,” Stanley said, then did as he was told.

Stone turned to Mike and handed him the keys to the Bentley. “Send one of your guys to get my car, and the other two upstairs to keep an eye on Marcel until the car comes. When he’s ready to leave, have them take him to my house and lock it down.”

Mike grabbed his returning men and gave them their instructions.

“Okay,” Dino said, “Stone, Holly, come with me. Mike, you do whatever you can do. We’re going to Brighton Beach.”

The three of them got into the rear seat of Dino’s department Lincoln. “All right, Paddy, we’re going to Brighton Beach: Brooklyn Bridge, Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, et cetera, et cetera. That’s Stanley in the front seat. When we get there, he’ll tell you where to go. Use your lights and siren as necessary, but not after we get there.”

Dino settled back in the seat, and the car rocketed forward, lights flashing, siren on.

“Holly,” Stone said, “what are the chances of picking up Helga’s cell phone again?”

“Slim,” Holly said. “The tracer will work even with the phone shut down completely, but it’s gotta see the satellite now and then or get a good cell or Wi-Fi connection. Let’s hope to God they took her handbag with her when they changed cars. Dino, can you get somebody to the last location of the Mercedes van and look for her phone or handbag in it?”

Dino got on the phone and gave the orders. “Ten minutes,” he said, “maybe less.”

Five grim minutes later, he got a call. He listened, then hung up. “No phone, no handbag,” he said.

“That’s a relief,” Holly said. “Now we’ve got a chance.” She checked the map page of her phone again. “Nothing yet.”

Stanley spoke up from the front seat. “Something you need to know,” he said. “They’re going to try to negotiate, probably to get their hands on you, Mr. Barrington, but if they think negotiations will fail, their attitude will be, if she’s not an asset to them, then she’s a liability. They’ll kill her. They won’t be dissuaded with thoughts of getting caught or the death penalty—it’s how they do things.”

Nobody said anything.

“We’re a couple of miles out,” the driver finally said. “I’m killing the siren and lights.” He switched them off.

“Stanley,” Dino said, “what’s your best guess?”

“They’ll avoid the beach area,” Stanley said. “They’ll be inland a few blocks, heading for a garage or factory—something they can drive into.”

“Tell the sergeant where to go. We’re in your hands.”

Stone’s phone chimed, and he checked the screen. “We’ve got a text,” he said. “It says: ‘You for the girl.’”

“Tell them yes,” Stanley said. “Don’t threaten them.”

Stone texted back: Agreed. Where and when?

Holly spoke up. “We’ve got a hit on the phone. It’s moving.” She held the phone where Stanley could see it.

“Hang a left,” Stanley said to the driver.