Deflated and spent, I left Liz’s brownstone and started to walk down Lexington Avenue, my mind in a daze. I was trapped. They had laid out what they wanted me to do. Participate in poisoning the water supply of New York. They said they needed a fall guy who could talk his way out of trouble. But more like someone they could pin the whole thing on. And I was the perfect candidate for that. My life had already crumbled to where no one would doubt I could do anything. Anything stupid and irrational. Even turn on my country.
Something called liquified sarin gas. I didn’t know how many might die from something like this.
But however many it was, now I’d be complicit.
And if I didn’t agree, they’d made it clear Liz and I would never see Emma again. And that was a possibility I couldn’t face. I had no idea where they had her kept. If we don’t make a call once a day at a particular time … Maybe Mrs. Shearer could be traced somehow. Maybe their calls could be traced. I heard they could do that now. But Make no mistake, Latimer had made it clear, if you choose to go to the police, I’ll know. I have my own contacts high up at the FBI, which is precisely where they’ll go. You get any foolish ideas, Mr. Mossman, I’ll know.
Emma’s fate is entirely in your hands.
They didn’t even try to follow me when they let me out. I had no choice but to comply.
So what were my options? I tried to reason them through. Help them in their plans, I’d be a traitor. In shame for the rest of my days. If I even survived the night. Maybe Liz would get our daughter back again. Turn them in, as Latimer laid out, I still may not be able to prove a thing. I didn’t even have the photographs I’d taken. They’d preyed on every weakness I had. And I was still reeling from the thought that the person I thought I was falling in love with just a few hours ago had duped me from the first moment we met.
Heading downtown, deep in my own thoughts, I saw those pages fly all over again.
My dissertation …
On Sixty-seventh Street, I saw a police car turn down the street and realized I was a block from the station.
I could go in and ask to speak with Monahan again. Lay it all out for him. I didn’t have the photos or the Darwin book or anything, but I could try to convince him that I wasn’t some kind of lunatic who once came in about Nazis down the hall and secret codes and now had graduated to German subs unloading weapons on American beaches and rogue State Department traitors. Would he believe a word that I was saying?
Certainly when Willi and Trudi, Latimer, Noelle, or even Karl the waiter pointed the finger at me, no one would.
Latimer had warned, If you go to the police or the FBI, we’ll know.…
I looked behind me. I didn’t see anybody following. A couple, arm in arm, went past. A man on the other side of the street ducked into a doorway as if avoiding being seen, but then I saw him go into the building and a light go on in the hallway.
It was all clear. They didn’t even think it necessary to put someone on my tail.
I turned, huddled into my jacket, and went down the block to the station. I didn’t know what was the right or wrong thing to do, only that Emma’s life hung on whatever decision I made and I was scared to make it alone. I stopped in front. Two uniformed officers stepped out, nodded my way, and continued past me. Go on in, I exhorted myself. It was my only way out of this mess. Let the professionals handle it. I was just a pawn in this. Set up. Latimer couldn’t have his tentacles everywhere. They’d see it. Liz could confirm Emma and Mrs. Shearer were missing. I could name names. People. Places. But, of course, accusations like this would have to be looked into. And investigations would take time. And time was something I didn’t have now. And there was no guarantee, even if I did what they wanted, that Emma would ever be returned safely. I’d be risking her life, doing their bidding—all the while with no assurance of ever getting her back.
All these things were careening through my mind.
I asked my inner voice what to do, the one who always gave me the right advice, but he pulled himself out of the discussion fast, going, “I can’t help you this time, pal.”
I took a last look around, pretty certain that no one was watching me, then said, “Hell,” and flung the station door open. My heart raced; I prayed I was doing the right thing. I took a breath and stepped up to the elevated front desk. A duty officer was sitting behind it, different from the one who had been there the last time I’d been inside.
“Help you, buddy?” he looked down and said. He glanced up from whatever he was reading.
My heart started to pound.
All I’d have to do was blurt out, “They’ve taken my daughter!” That’s all I had to do. But my tongue was paralyzed.
“Sir, can we help you…?” the duty officer asked again, peering down over his glasses.
“Yes. I need to—” I felt a swell of panic come over me. Monahan already thought I was a flake. The story I had to tell now would be even harder to accept.
“Buddy, are you all right…?” The cop peered over, seeing me break out in a sweat.
I wasn’t even close to all right. I wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to be doing. Finally, it all made me feel like I was going to burst. “Sorry,” I exhaled, and turned and ran back outside. My chest was tight and exploding and I needed air. As soon as I got out of the doors, I gulped the crisp night air into my lungs and my heart went rat-tat-tat against my ribs.
All I could conjure up was the image of the police knocking on the Bauers’ door, and then what would happen? Or the FBI sitting me down in an interrogation room, trying to pick apart the truth from what appeared to be ramblings. German subs. Latimer.
All it would take was one call from Trudi and Willi and then what? About Emma.
I just couldn’t take the risk.
Slowly I regained myself and felt the sweats start to recede. I blew a blast of air out my cheeks.
I had a day to figure something else out.
Something that didn’t involve the police.
Something so I wasn’t a traitor.
Emma, I’ll find another way.