Chapter 23

The station was in an uproar, first thing the next morning, when Bruno arrived for his appointment with Chief Black. The next step, he felt, was to find a way to interview Mimi, whether her father liked it or not.

But the office was crowded with people he didn’t recognize, milling around and talking excitedly. He’d never seen it like this before. Finally he caught the eye of Officer Randy Lewis, the force’s high-speed apprehension specialist. Bruno pulled him aside and Randy filled him in: “A kid from the Friends school didn’t turn up at home last night. We think it’s a kidnapping.”

“Is there a ransom note?” asked Bruno.

“Not that we know of.”

Bruno made a face. “I need to speak to the Chief right away.”

Bruno muscled his way to the Chief’s office and peered through the glass. Inside were the child’s parents, the mother crying hysterically: Gussie, little Gussie is her only kid. The father sat there, apparently a model of stoicism. More likely he was in shock. The Chief talked practically non-stop. He picked up the phone and, a minute later, Officer Michelle Coxe appeared. She tried to comfort Mrs. Parker. Bruno turned his head—this was a private moment, he shouldn’t be watching.

Then he noticed he was standing next to none other than Peaches Cromwell. She was scribbling on her pad, practically salivating.

The Chief spotted Bruno and opened the door. Peaches quickly stepped in front and tried to barge in. The Chief restrained her with a stiff arm to the chest. Peaches opened her mouth in outrage, trying to imply she was being groped. The Chief threw her a look as if to say she was about to get far worse if she didn’t back off.

Peaches backed off. The Chief beckoned to Bruno to come in.

As he stepped across the threshold, the energy level jagged up, as if there was a control knob and somebody turned up the lights and volume and the smells and the heat way past maximum.

The Chief didn’t waste any time. “We can’t hold you in reserve. I want to throw everything we’ve got at this one right away. I told the Parkers about you and they’re willing to cooperate.”

He handed Bruno Gussie Parker’s class picture. A goofy-looking kid. His head seemed to be wider than it was tall. Spiky blond hair on top. Braces. Freckles. Gussie played guitar so he had calluses on the fingers of his left hand. One of them split open earlier in the week. Left pinkie. The poor mom explained it all to Bruno between sobs.

“What are you waiting for?” the Chief snarled. “Go do your psychic-Kabbalah-whatever thing.”

“Is there anything else I can use?” Bruno stammered. No one wanted to get out of there more than he did. “Article of clothing, anything …”

“There’s his briefcase. We found his briefcase. But it’s evidence.”

“That’s exactly why I need it. I would need to touch it,” Bruno said in practically a whisper.

“Go talk to Gary. See what you can work out. Now go.”

On the way out, Bruno caught a look from the father, his first sign of life. Suddenly Mr. Parker was on his feet, shaking his fist in Bruno’s face. He was screaming, “You find my boy. You bring him back for me.”

Bruno backed away slowly, then turned quickly to get to work. He ran headlong into Peaches. She scowled.

All these looks, thought Bruno. Why was everyone angry? This was a time for compassion. Adrenaline was a funny thing. He had seen it countless times with Maggie. Somebody would see her and assume she was an attack dog. The adrenaline would flow from fear. She’d smell it and think they’d want to fight. Up would go her hackles, back would curl her lip. Fear and anger. Anger and fear.

That explained Mr. Parker. And probably the Chief as well. Mostly he’s angry with the criminal; kidnapping, murder—both vicious crimes. And when it’s a child involved, who wouldn’t be angry? But there’s also a certain amount of fear. Pressure about his job performance. From the parents. From the Mayor. What would the situation be like in the town now, with two children missing or dead? He and his staff would be working round the clock. And there’d be pressure from Peaches. What was her shtick? She wanted to be in the office. Wanted to hear what the parents were saying. Why? So she could reveal their emotional distress for everyone who reads the paper? What would drive anyone to behave that way? They teach ’em in journalism school to say things like, “The public has a right to know.” Or talk about the First Amendment and the role of the Fourth Estate in a constitutional democracy. Big abstractions. How do you get from there to Peaches Cromwell? She was like a dog trained to attack the moment she sensed emotion: Fear or anger. Anger or fear. Maggie was lucky last time Peaches didn’t bite her. Next time she’d probably bring a hamburger laced with poison or the old chloroformed hanky.

Enough about Peaches. She was a piece of work. Time to get busy and find that kid.