He nodded toward one of the regular dispatchers. “We just took a call from a woman on Hatch Street, near the place you were looking for McCafferty.”
“Yeah?” Harvey said.
“Her car was stolen within the last twenty minutes.”
“That’s got to be Mack,” Harvey said.
“I put out a BOLO,” Charlie said. “He can’t have gotten far.”
“Good. So, when will the hotline be operational?”
“I’ve got one guy on it now. We’ll have a couple more within the hour,” Charlie replied. They hashed out a few details, and Harvey went upstairs. He’d barely reached his desk when Paula transferred a call from Charlie.
“Sasha’s got a call from an officer placing that stolen car about a mile from your scene on Hatch Street.”
“Is McCafferty in it?” Harvey asked. It was almost too good to be true.
“He’s rolling. If it’s him, he’s headed toward Deering. We’ve got a car tailing him.”
“Current location?” Harvey got it and took out his phone and called Eddie. “You done with Talbot?”
“I can be,” Eddie said.
“Leave him to Cheryl’s men. I’m going to start my vehicle. Go straight to the garage exit, and I’ll pick you up.”
Eddie didn’t ask where they were headed until he’d piled into the front seat of Harvey’s Explorer.
“McCafferty, on Danforth. A squad car’s trying to pull him over.”
“That could be tricky in traffic this time of day.”
“Yeah.” Harvey flipped on his siren. “Put the flasher up.”
Eddie lowered his window and fastened the blue light to the Explorer’s roof. “So, how’d they get on to him?” he yelled over the siren’s wail.
“He stole another car, and the owner called it in right away. A sharp-eyed cop spotted him. They’re tailing him now.”
“Who’s on him?”
“Marston and Needham.”
Eddie nodded. Both the patrolmen had been with the department several years. Voices sounded on the radio, and they listened.
Harvey scowled at what he heard. “The car belongs to a neighbor near the duplex. They must have left the keys in it.”
A minute later, Eddie said, “Sounds like they stopped him.”
Charlie called Harvey’s code.
“Take that,” Harvey said, and Eddie reached for the radio.
“What have you got for us, Charlie?”
“Unit 14 stopped your suspect and is requesting backup.” Charlie gave the location.
“We’ll be there in two minutes,” Eddie said.
“Good. Shots fired. I’ll send a bus.”
“You got your vest?” Harvey asked.
Eddie shook his head.
“Mine’s on the back seat. Grab it.”
Eddie stretched to reach the vest while Harvey concentrated on traffic. On the radio, Charlie’s call went out for an ambulance.
“You want me to put this on?” Eddie asked. “It would save time.”
Harvey shook his head. Only one of them could wear it, and he didn’t want Eddie jumping into the fray while he watched.
Up ahead, he saw the strobe lights of the patrol car and a slight snarl in traffic as cars slowed to go around the stopped vehicles.
Harvey pulled to the curb several yards back and grabbed his Kevlar vest.
“Stop the traffic,” he told Eddie. As soon as he had the vest on over his jacket, he dashed toward the patrol car with his gun drawn. To his relief, the officers had already apprehended McCafferty. Ted Marston had him prone on the ground and was handcuffing him.
“You guys okay?” Harvey asked the other patrolman, Brock Needham.
“Yeah. But he drew a gun. We had to shoot.”
“The bus is on the way. I take it he’s not dead?”
Needham shook his head. “Winged him, but he has a wound in his thigh, too, Captain. Ted only fired once.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“He was wounded earlier. Where’s the prisoner’s weapon?” Harvey asked.
“Under the car. We didn’t touch it.”
“Good. Now, you go help Detective Thibodeau with traffic until another uniform gets here.” Harvey went to retrieve the handgun and bag it. “You all right, Ted?” he asked as Marston stood and wiped his brow with his cuff.
“Yeah. It was dicey for a few seconds. Is the ambulance coming?”
“They’ll be right here,” Harvey said. “How bad is it?”
“He jumped, and I hit him in the arm instead of the chest, but his leg’s bleeding, too.”
“Okay. You guys have a first aid kit?” He noticed that Ted was shaking.
“Yeah. In the trunk.”
“Give me your keys. I’ll get it. You sit down.” The prisoner wasn’t going anywhere, and Harvey walked with Ted to his squad car, where the patrolman sat down on the passenger side with the door open.
“I swear I only fired one bullet, Captain.”
“I know. He was already hurting when he got in that car. You’re even on that score.” Harvey grabbed the first aid kit and hurried back to the prisoner.
He leaned over McCafferty. The man had a rag tied around his leg, and though his pantleg was soaked with blood, that wound seemed under control. He was bleeding on the pavement, however, from the fresh hit. The wound seemed low in the shoulder, possibly near the top of Mack’s lung, rather than his arm. His eyes were closed, and he moaned softly.
“Hey, Mack.” Harvey grasped his other shoulder. “Do you hear me, Mack?”
McCafferty howled.
Harvey gritted his teeth. “Where is Peter Hobart?”
Mack didn’t respond.
The ambulance’s swooping siren flared louder as it rounded a corner. Eddie joined Harvey just as he fished a roll of gauze out of the first aid kit.
“Hey, Harv, don’t wreck your suit,” Eddie said.
“Well, I’m not going to stand here and let him bleed.”
“I’ll do that.” Eddie snatched the gauze from his hand. “You’ve got to talk to the press. You got this guy’s gun?”
“Yeah.” Harvey turned as the two EMTs approached. Jeff Wainthrop and Mark Johnson walked toward him with their gear.
“This the only patient?” Mark asked.
“Yeah. One of our officers shot him. He’s a little shaky. Hi, Jeff.”
“Yo, Harvey. Beth called and said the folks got in all right.”
“Good. I expect you’ll take the prisoner to MaineGeneral?”
“No doubt,” Jeff said as he and Mark crouched to tend to the wounded man.
“I’ll talk to him there,” Harvey said. “That leg wound is older. We found blood in his apartment. The shoulder shot is fresh, from one of our officers.”
“Thanks,” Jeff said. Mark was quickly checking vital signs.
“I expect I’ll see you this weekend,” Jeff said. “I’m off at midnight.”
“Okay. And just give Officer Marston a quick look before you go.”
“Got it,” Jeff said.
Harvey walked away and called Cheryl Yeaton. “Our prisoner is under the EMTs’ care. He’ll be heading for the ER soon. I’m going to have Needham drive Marston in. He’s the one who shot the suspect, and he’s a little shaky. I didn’t see it, but it sounds like McCafferty fired first, or at any rate pulled his weapon. I’ve got the prisoner’s gun. I’ll bring it in, and I’ll touch base with you before I go to the hospital.”
As he signed off, Eddie caught up to him.
“You drive,” Harvey said and tossed him the keys.
*****
Peter fumbled with the padlock key several times before he managed to insert it correctly and turn it, unlatching the mechanism. His fingers on his left hand were oozing blood again. As much as possible, he avoided using them as he unwound the chain.
At last, he was free from the restraints. He looked toward the stairway and knew he would need to rest for a while before
attempting to climb it. He sat for a long time, rubbing his ankle and praying in silence. The light from the window beckoned to him. If only he had something to stand on. The window ledge appeared to be very narrow—only an inch or two. He doubted he could climb up there and break the window. Even if could, he doubted he could fit through the small opening. But he might be able to attract attention if he was up there.
Hopelessly, he gazed at the window while massaging his raw ankle and thinking. The bottom of the window was six or seven feet off the floor, and it consisted of only four small panes, aligned horizontally. There was no way.
The chain. He followed it back in the shadows to where it was looped around a pipe. He’d tried to break it before, or to pull the pipe loose, without success. But if the lock on that end was keyed the same as the one on his ankle. . .
He crawled to it and seized the lock, ignoring the stabbing pain in his hands. After a moment, he slumped with his back against the wall. It would have been too easy.
The stairs were his only hope, and he made himself rise, holding onto the wall, and then stagger toward them. The steps had no risers behind them. A rail ran up the wall on the right, but the left side of the flight was open. He would have to go slowly and be careful.
He took the short walk into the bathroom first and ran cool water over his hands. His cuts stung, but after the initial shock, the bath felt good. After a couple of minutes, he dried his hands and looked at them. They would take time to heal.
But he didn’t have much time. His tightening stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten for thirty hours or more. At least the water worked. He bent to slurp from the faucet.
It took him several minutes to undo his zipper so he could relieve himself. His fingers throbbed, and he bathed his left hand again at the sink and wrapped toilet paper around it. It was time to face the stairs.
He clung to the railing and put his foot on the first step. Pulling his weight up taxed all his strength. Each step seemed to grow larger than the previous one, until the next seemed insurmountable. He crawled up the last two. When he finally reached the top, he lay panting, longing to open the door yet dreading the attempt. He refused to think that it might not open at his touch.
Finally he hauled in a deep breath and used the railing to pull to his knees. He reached for the doorknob. Cringing at the pain, he turned it.
Of course it was locked. He’d known it would be, hadn’t he? But he’d needed to try.
The knob had the standard button latch. With great care, he turned the button and once more tried the knob. Still, the door didn’t budge.
His gaze traveled upward. Several inches above the knob was a round brass fitting. A deadbolt. From this side, it could only be unlocked with a key. No doubt there was a turn lever on the other side. It made sense. He had one on the cellar door in his own house.
Christine had insisted on it. He’d taken her on a couple of business trips, but after Gary was born, she’d stayed home. But she didn’t want to be alone overnight unless that cellar door was secure. Of course, their house had an outdoor cellar entry, and this one didn’t seem to have that. Peter looked down the stairs at the shadowy basement. Had he missed something?
A sudden thought made him look up, hoping to spot a light switch on the wall beside the door. But, no. The switch was outside the door, probably on the kitchen wall.
He hadn’t thoroughly explored the basement. He remembered the old furnace. Was the house old enough to have a coal chute? Maybe there was something he could climb on—a box or something in a corner.
The thought of having to climb the stairs again disheartened him. But if there was an outdoor cellar entry or something else that would help him, he would be foolish not to use that.
Still sitting, Peter lowered himself one step at a time. At the bottom of the stairs, he grasped the railing and pulled himself up. His hands were on fire, and his ankle throbbed. He pulled in several deep breaths. He would have to go slowly, around the edge of the room, so that he would always have the wall for support.
He took the first step.
*****
Harvey sat at his desk, scowling as he listened to the doctor’s report over the phone. McCafferty’s wound was worse than he’d thought at the scene and required surgery. Going to the hospital now would do him no good. The kidnapper was still in the operating room and might not be conscious and able to answer questions for a couple more hours.
Harvey ran his hand through his hair. “Okay, doc. Thanks. I’ll come by this evening.”
He called Captain Hillman to see what the Cape Elizabeth police had found out.
“We’ll have plenty of evidence against Talbot for the weapons and the rackets,” John Hillman told him, “but we haven’t found anything to link him to your kidnapping.”
“I was afraid of that.”
“Can you hold him over the weekend and set the arraignment for Monday?” Hillman said. “That would give you a couple more days to work your end of it.”
“Yeah, there’s no way he’ll be in court before then.” Talbot’s attorney was probably already screaming for a speedy arraignment and bail hearing, but the convenient timing of the weekend was on Harvey’s side.
When he hung up, Nate came over to his desk.
“We got a call while you were on the phone.”
Harvey looked up at him. “And?”
“It was the lab. They’ve got results on the gun our guys took off McCafferty.”
“Thanks, Nate.” Harvey jogged down the stairs and into the lab. “Zoe! What have got for me?”
She turned toward him, smiling. “Nice to see you. I was about to head home.”
“I won’t keep you. You got something on the nine-millimeter?
“Yes.” Zoe turned to her computer screen and hit a few keys. “Its fired casings match the one you picked up at the homicide.”
Harvey’s pulse picked up. “The Ulrich shooting from Wednesday night?”
“That’s the one. This gun was used to kill your victim.”
He scrutinized the screen and nodded. “Fantastic.”
Zoe grinned. “Glad I made your day. Now I’m getting out of here. Have a nice weekend.”
“I plan to.”
Five minutes later, Harvey was seated across the desk from Mike in the chief’s office.
“You might as well go home and eat with your family,” Mike said. “You can’t talk to Talbot any more until his lawyer’s on the scene.”
“I thought he’d have been here and left by now.”
Mike shrugged. “He was in court this afternoon and sent a junior partner over, but they stipulated no questioning without the lawyer present.”
“I let Emma Skerritt go, now that we’ve got her boyfriend.”
“You wouldn’t get anything else out of her, anyhow.”
Harvey sighed. “You’re right. I told her Chad was in the hospital, but I wish I hadn’t. She’s probably over there now, and I really don’t want her to be the first one to talk to him.” He shook his head. “Why’d I do that?”
“Because you’re a kind person.”
“Ha.” Harvey squinted at him. “Who’d ever have thought?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have, five years ago. I’d have said you were a good detective and a decent man then, but now you’re a genuinely good person.”
“I’m getting soft.”
Mike shook his head. “You’re showing the work God’s done on you, that’s all. Emma Skerritt was caught up in this, and it wasn’t her fault, other than falling for an idiot. Did you tell her you picked up her friend, too, for drugs?”
“Yeah, and I told her to stay away from the duplex.”
“Well, your fatigue is showing, I won’t deny that. You could call whoever’s on duty outside his hospital room and tell them not to let her in.”
Harvey thought about it. “Nah, I think it’s okay. Anyway, I called a minute ago, and he was still in surgery.”
Mike opened a drawer, took out a mani
la folder, and slapped it on the desk. “Take a hard look at these, Harvey.”
“What is it?”
“Your interviews for Nate Miller’s position. Next Tuesday at nine, ten, and eleven a.m.”
Harvey stared at him for a moment then opened the folder. His jaw tightened as the looked through the three sets of paperwork. “Two of these are women.”
“Don’t start, Harvey.”
“No, sure. It’s okay. I know everyone’s harping on diversity right now.”
“That’s right.” Mike shrugged. “You’ve been busy, and I didn’t think you had a lot of time to put in on this, but we need to move on it. Thought I’d help you out.”
“You didn’t take my short list into consideration?”
Mike opened his top drawer and took out a pack of gum. As he unwrapped a stick, he leaned back in his chair. “Ron Legere got the best of the candidates for his squad after the shakeup last fall. I’m not letting any more kids like Winfield skip a grade. It causes discontent down the ranks.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that. I don’t think we have any more geniuses working for us now, anyhow. And Crocker didn’t pass the exam. I might have taken her.”
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “There’s only two more officers in this department who’ve passed it.”
“Sarah Benoit and Max Farington,” Harvey said.
“You told me you weren’t comfortable putting Sarah in your unit, given her history with Eddie.”
“Well. . .” Harvey took a big breath, trying to look at things impartially. “They’ve gotten past all that, I think, and Jenny’s gotten close to Sarah.”
“Is that a problem?”
“I guess not. I mean, Eddie’s my best friend, and we work together all the time.”
“But you got to be friends because you were partners,” Mike pointed out. “If it weren’t for that, you and Eddie probably wouldn’t have much to do with each other.”
“That would be my loss.”
“His, too. But anyway, what do you think now about Eddie and Sarah working together?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. You put her file in here. I guess that means you want me to consider her.”
Ransom of the Heart Page 19