Tony and Ahmed met Gulliver at his office. He filled them in on Telenovich and the possible Phantom of the Opera scenario.
“I have a source who thinks it’s likely this guy has her stashed somewhere,” Gulliver said.
That started a debate between them about whether to call the local cops. It lasted through most of the ride from Brooklyn, through Queens and past the Nassau County line. Gulliver pointed out, “Once the cops get involved, they’re in control. It becomes their show, and they run it. We’d be watching from the sidelines.”
“And we don’t even know if this is where he has Bella or even if he has her for sure,” Tony said.
Ahmed argued hard to call in the cops.
“There’s a reason they control everything,” he said. “It’s ’cause they know what they’re doing in these situations. Navy Seals get all kinds of training for all kinds of assaults, but this, man…We don’t even know for sure what we’re dealing with.”
In the end, Gulliver and Tony outvoted Ahmed. And they decided they could always call the police if they felt they had to. If they got in over their heads. Gulliver laughed when Tony used that phrase. “Then we better call the cops now,” he said. “I’m always getting in over my head.”
They all laughed at that. The laughter didn’t last long. Gulliver read aloud from the intel that Happy Meal had gathered about Telenovich.
“He’s a classically trained artist. Studied in Moscow, Paris, London and New York. He was a minor success in the early eighties but has been teaching at different schools to support his art. He was at the Parker School in Boston for fifteen years. But he was dismissed in 2002. The reasons are unclear. The rumor is he became involved with one of his female students, and when she wanted to end it…you can guess the rest. The school didn’t want its rep hurt, so they quietly let him go and didn’t share the details with the next school he worked at. Or the next.”
“Did he do bad stuff to the girl?” Tony asked, though it didn’t look like he was sure he wanted to hear the answer.
“No,” Gulliver said. “Nothing like that. He just became obsessed. Wouldn’t leave her alone. Followed her. Like that.
“When Bella started selling her art online, Telenovich bought a lot of it,” he continued. “He wrote her messages about how talented she was, but that she needed help.”
Ahmed was curious. “Help?”
“His help,” Gulliver answered. “He wanted to be her teacher. He said that art school would ruin her talent if that’s the path she decided to take. He said he saw greatness in her, but that only he could free it. At first she liked his attention, and they wrote back and forth to each other. But then he went too far. Here, let me read this last note he sent her.
“Bellartgirl: You have no choice but to be great. And as I have said many times, only I can let that greatness out of you. Even if I must remove the skin you wear to hide it, I will do that. If I must beat it out of you or starve it out of you, I will do that. There is no escaping your greatness or me. I don’t know who you are, but I will someday. I don’t know where you live, but I will. Nothing will stop me. You will be mine. Your soul. Your heart. Your art will all belong to me. I will be your maestro. Your master. Let me be that. IG.
“After that, Bella basically abandoned the website. I’m sure she was just afraid to tell her parents what she had done. And maybe she was afraid of what Joey might do. Maybe IG was harmless, and she didn’t want his blood on her hands.”
Tony was mad. “Stop talking bull, Dowd. What blood?”
“You wiseguys crack me up, Tony. You think it’s easy growing up in your world? Bella’s a smart and sensitive girl. You can hide stuff for only so long from kids. It was only a matter of time before Bella and her sisters discovered what her father did to people who got in his way. How many people have you hurt or killed for your boss, Tony? And if Bella ever found out you were her real dad, do you think that would change anything?”
Tony opened his mouth to say something. No words came out. Even he knew it was pointless to argue. Gulliver was right. They rode the rest of the way in silence.