March 7, 8.28 a.m.
Inside her apartment, Denise seated the two Missing Persons detectives in the living room. She left them for a moment and came back in clean sweatpants and a fresh top. She noticed the way Munroe stared at her. What was it? A chance to gawp or was he suspicious in some way? Difficult to tell.
Denise moved to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice. She didn’t offer the two detectives a drink and she didn’t sit down, either. She stood in the center of the room and looked at one then the other. She felt her nerves rising and falling, but tried to keep it hidden.
‘Nice place,’ said Sarah Gauge. ‘I like your things. All sleek and modern. I like a modern style.’ She gestured at the Italian sofa and then two angular aluminum candlesticks.
‘Can you get to the point?’ said Denise.
The two detectives sat on the sofa and Denise watched them, then leaned against the wall. Munroe took a white envelope out of his pocket and pulled out a photograph.
‘This is Abby,’ he said. ‘This is the most recent shot we’ve got of her. Red highlights included, although she was brunette when she disappeared.’
Denise stared across at Abby. She was a striking-looking girl. ‘What is she? Tenth or eleventh grade?’
‘Senior,’ said Munroe. ‘She’s just turned sixteen. She’s a Queens girl – Forest Park area. Parents divorced. Lives alone with her father. Mother lives in New Jersey with a new family.’
‘Yeah, she’s Jewish. Her father’s keen on his Jewish heritage, if you know what I mean.’
‘Before you jump in with your locker-room anti-Semitism, you do know I’m also Jewish?’ said Denise. She glared down hard at Munroe.
‘I didn’t mean anything wrong by it,’ said Munroe. ‘It’s just that he’s a specialist. An academic. He curates exhibitions about the Holocaust. That’s all I meant.’
‘Where does he work?’
‘He lectures at Columbia and curates at the Museum of Tolerance.’
‘Goldenberg, you said? Thought I recognized it from when I used to work at Columbia.’
‘Well, he knows you too, Dr Levene. Only by reputation.’
Denise began to search her memory for the name. ‘What’s his first name?’
‘It’s Aaron. Dr Aaron Goldenberg.’
Denise felt her heart pump. Any link just brought the tragedy closer. She paused and turned from the two cops, looking out of the window. ‘I never knew him well. We probably met at an event. I don’t think I ever met his daughter.’
‘We know that.’
‘So what are you doing here?’
‘Truth is, this investigation is drying up fast. We’ve exhausted all avenues and Dr Goldenberg knows it. He’s a very persuasive man, Dr Goldenberg. He wanted us to go one more round. He wrote a list. We always ask for a list. All the people who his daughter might have known, wanted to know or had been influenced by. If she’s a runaway, she might go for someone she barely knows.’
‘And?’
‘You were on that list.’
‘In which category?’
‘She admired you, apparently.’
‘Me? She didn’t know me.’
‘She wanted to major in Psychology. Her father took her to one of your lectures. When you left Columbia for the NYPD, she thought that was cool.’
‘Cool?’
‘Packing in academia for a real career.’ Munroe tried a smile. Denise didn’t respond. ‘One in the eye for her old man, I expect.’
Detective Gauge stood. ‘We’ve got her diaries. She mentioned you in there too. Not so much about the Psychology. She seemed to like your style, the way girls do. Thought you looked beautiful and confident. That’s what she wrote.’
Munroe pulled out a copy of the diary entry and handed it to Denise. ‘She was quite affected by your abduction too. She followed the case on the news. She wrote a few prayers for you.’
Denise felt her emotions stir and she tapped the wall hard.
‘Dr Goldenberg has this theory that she might be disappearing to emulate you in some unconscious way. Maybe she sees it as a means of getting some attention. Her mother’s a real live-wire. Doesn’t have much to do with Abby.’
Denise shook her head. ‘That’s bullshit.’
‘He’s trying to imagine why she’s not come home. He doesn’t want to think she’s just cut loose on him and run away with some guy.’
‘And what do you think, Detective?’
‘Looks like she planned to go away. She stowed her books and a set of clothes in a tree in the woods near her home. A dog-walker found them. She faked a phone call to a friend to get out of the house. We think she was going to meet someone. Maybe it was to run away, maybe she got into trouble.’
‘If she was planning to run away, would she leave her diaries? This stuff is quite intimate. She’d know it’s the first place you’d all look. She mention any boyfriend in the diaries?’
‘No, she didn’t.’
Denise turned. ‘She’s not a runaway. But you’re not here for an opinion, are you?’
‘Listen, we’re ticking boxes here, Dr Levene. We’ve got a list, your name’s on it. We got to ask. Have you seen her? Has she contacted you? Anything? This would’ve been a phone call if you ever picked up.’
‘No. Nothing. As you know, I’m not easy to get hold of.’
Denise used the towel around her shoulder to rub her hair. She looked at Abby’s picture again. She saw a bright, kind face, both cheeky and prepossessing. If she was to take a guess on the girl’s attitude, she’d say that she was a fun-loving risk-taker who had her father wrapped round her little finger. The smile would get her a long way, not necessarily in the right direction.
‘Is that all?’ said Denise. ‘I’ve got an appointment to keep.’