I froze. A scream rose in me that tried to make its way up my throat, but remained bottled up inside. “Don’t you hurt him,” I said. More like begged. “He’s just an innocent boy. Don’t you hurt him or I’ll make you pay. I swear I will.”
Tears rushed into my eyes.
“You’ll make me pay? That right?” The man said with a chortle. “Darlin’, I think you’ve got things a bit reversed, though all the passion is admirable. I figure this is an unsettling time. But that isn’t what I asked you, is it?” He waited. It was clear he wanted me to say the words.
“Yes, I want to see him,” I said. The phone was shaking in my hands.
“Alive? I wouldn’t be mistaken in assuming that would be the preferred state?”
“Yes, please, alive! Alive!” I said, the tears on my cheeks now turning from ones of anger to helplessness. “I beg you, please, don’t hurt him.”
“And the nanny? I figure you’d probably like to see her again too?”
“Elena. She’s got a family. She’s a religious woman. She’d never hurt anyone. Yes. Both of them. Please …”
“Then what do you say we get right down to business. You know what we want from you, right?”
I nodded, clutching the phone with both hands. “Yes. I know.”
“I mean, all of it, right? You do know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”
“Yes. I know what it is you’re looking for. The missing pages from the diary.” I swallowed and said, “We have them.”
“Good. And we can never forget about the money, can we?”
“I have the money too.”
“Well, good then. So grab a pen. Here’s what you have to do.”
I ran into Patrick’s kitchen and searched around frantically for a pen. I found one in a drawer and scribbled everything down on the back of an envelope.
“You know Bruckner Boulevard? In the Bronx?”
“Yes.” In the South Bronx. It was one of the routes for leaving or driving into Manhattan going north. It fed into 95 North from the Triboro Bridge. “I know it.”
“There’s an entrance ramp. On 138th Street? It feeds up onto the expressway …”
“Yes,” I said again. “I know it.” It was a run-down area of auto-body shops and check-cashing storefronts. At rush hour, there was always a backup there to get on the expressway. But the area would be deserted at night.
“I want you to be there at 2:00 A.M. That’s in five hours. Pull onto the access road that’s adjacent to the entrance ramp leading to the expressway. Park there and turn your headlights off.”
“I got it. I understand, 138th Street.”
“Put the money in a plastic garbage bag and the pages in a clear folder so I can see them.”
“Okay.”
“Just yourself. No cops. No heroes. I hope I’m making myself a hundred percent clear on that.”
“Yes, I hear you,” I said. My heart was pounding. “I know what you’re asking for. I understand.”
“I see any sign of the police, or even anyone in particular who might hail from Staten Island … One stupid act, darlin’, and you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. He seems like a sweet boy. Not a good thing to see your son’s life come to an end right in front of your eyes. Or maybe worse, to never know what happened to him.”
“No, I understand, please … All I want is for him to be safe.”
“Good then. You have that all down? I’m counting on you being as smart as you are pretty. What did you say your name was … Jeanine?”
Jeanine. My middle name. That was the name I had given Rollie. That was somehow how he found me.
“Yes.” I took in a breath. I knew what I said next would shock him. “I have it all perfectly, Charlie.”
There was only silence. It seemed for a good ten seconds. I’m sure I knocked him for a loop, telling him I knew his name too. I just wanted him to know that there were stakes for us both. If he did something stupid. It was all I had. “Well, someone’s been busy, busy, busy …” He sniffed admiringly.
“I just thought you should know there are stakes for you too. In case you decide to do something stupid. And for the state senator as well.”
“You are really walking a dangerous path with that one, hon …”
“All I want is my son back. And Elena. After tonight, nothing that’s happened here even concerns me. Just give me back my son. It’ll all be something no one will ever be able to prove.”
“Just so we’re clear, you or your boyfriend get any different ideas, that boy of yours will be a bloody mess, so help me God.”
I steeled myself with a breath. “I hear you.”
“So two A.M. then. And that’s all the warning you get. Don’t bother calling this number back. I’m pulling the battery.”
“Then how will I find you?” It would be dark and mostly deserted near that underpass. You could shoot someone there at that hour; no one would even hear the sound.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”