Fifth Ave 01 - Fifth Avenue (52 page)

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Authors: Christopher Smith

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A chill raced up his spine--something was wrong.
 
The reporters were silent, expectant, their eyes searching his.
 
They were just standing there, waiting for him to say something, although he didn’t know what.

It was the man he had struck in the chest who broke the silence.
 
“I think I speak for all of us, Mr., Redman, when I say how sorry we are.”

“For what?” George said.
 
“Sorry for what?”

Glances were exchanged.

The reporter who stepped forward now took a step back.

Beyond the crowd, two police cars pulled to the curb.
 
Although there were no accompanying sirens, their lights were flashing.

“Would one of you please tell me what is going on here?”

Nobody said anything.
 
There was the sound of car doors being slammed shut.
 
At the same moment George saw Jack Douglas leave one of the police cars--face drawn, clothes rumpled--a voice from the back of the crowd said:
 
“It’s Celina, Mr. Redman.
 
We thought you knew.
 
She drowned earlier this morning.
 
Her body was sent to the Medical Examiner’s Office on First.”

And the frenzy began.

 

 

*
 
*
 
*

 

 

The silence in the room was deafening.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Redman.”

George squeezed Elizabeth’s hand harder, drawing on it for strength, but finding little there.
 
Her hand was as cold as the ice in her stare.
 
Her breathing was uneven.
 
She learned the news only moments before he, Jack and the police stepped into the penthouse.

George found her in the second-floor living room, the phone on its side and next to her feet.
 
Her face was pale as talc.
 
Her eyes burned with an odd mixture of emptiness, sorrow, rage and disbelief.
 
Helen Baines was still calling her name into the phone, still asking if she were all right, when George bent to pick it up.

He released his grip from her hand, put his arm around her and pulled her close to him.
 
He kissed her and said they would get through this.
 
It was one of the few lies he had ever told her and not for one minute did Elizabeth believe it.
 
Her face crumpled, she glared at him through tears and then looked at the detective who was sitting on the sofa opposite them.
 

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I want to know what happened,” she said to the man in a thick voice.
 
“You tell me what happened to my daughter.”

Lieutenant Vic Greenfield, the detective assigned to the case, glanced at George, saw that he also was ready for answers and stood.
 
“She was bungee jumping with Mr. Douglas--”

“I know that,” Elizabeth said sharply.
 
“Celina and I talked about it at last night’s party.
 
I told her that I thought it was a foolish idea.
 
I told her I didn’t want her to do it, but she said she had no choice.”

Her eyes hardened on Jack, who was sitting across the room, running a hand through his hair. Although his face was flushed, his eyes wet with grief, Elizabeth saw no remorse on the man’s face, only her own anger and loss reflected on it.
 
“She said she had no choice because she made a deal with Mr. Douglas that she would do it.
 
My daughter never backed down on her word, Lieutenant. Not ever.”

“Perhaps you should know that Mr. Douglas himself nearly drowned while trying to save your daughter’s life.
 
If it weren’t for a man by the name of Alex Stevens, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

Elizabeth gave the detective a look of loathing.
 
“That would suit me fine, Mr. Greenfield.
 
As far as I’m concerned, he’s responsible for her death.”

“Elizabeth,” George said.

“It’s true.”

“It’s not true.
 
You know how Celina was.”

“If she hadn’t gone with him, she would be alive now.”

“This was an accident.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Jack said from across the room.
 
“It was murder.”

Elizabeth looked at Jack at the same moment Isadora, the family cat, strolled into the living room and began washing herself in a slim band of sunlight.
 
She gave the animal a look as gray as driftwood and said in a low voice to Jack, “What did you just say?”

“I said it was murder.”

Before anyone could speak, the Lieutenant intervened and told George and Elizabeth everything.
 
He told them about Celina’s jump, how she was lowered successfully to the raft and how the raft capsized when the first jumper--a man they had not yet identified and were still searching for--apparently slipped and fell, sending all aboard into the water.

He told them that by struggling to stay afloat, Celina’s legs got tangled in the rope secured to the raft’s anchor.
 
He told them about Jack’s efforts to save her.

Although George listened, hearing every detail of his daughter’s death and the attempt to rescue her, he found it difficult to concentrate.
 
He was numb.
 
He was not sure how much more of this he could take. The pressure and the grief and the anger building within him were beginning to take their toll.
 
His daughter was dead.
 
Celina was murdered.
 
It all seemed unreal to him.
 
Just yesterday they were together.
 
She was vibrant and excited by what was happening in the company and by what was happening in her life with Jack.
 

Now she was gone.
 
Somebody stole her from him.

From the bottom of his gut, his fury took control of him.
 
He had power and he would use that power.
 
Some of his closest friends were the leaders of countries.
 
His daughter was dead, but he was alive and with his contacts, with his billions, he could make his enemies tremble.

Looking hard at the Lieutenant, he said, “I want to know what happened to the son of a bitch who’s responsible for this.”

“We’re still looking for him, Mr. Redman.”

“You mean to tell me no one standing on that footbridge saw him swim away from the raft?”

“That’s correct,” he said.
 
“We questioned the witnesses, but there was so much confusion, no one could recall seeing anyone swim away.
 
Many thought he also drowned.”

“Well, he didn’t,” George said.
 
“He’s out there right now--free.
 
And I want him caught.
 
Do you understand me?”

The Lieutenant’s jaw tightened.
 
“Of course, Mr. Redman.”

George’s stomach felt as though someone had driven nails into it.
 
“Whoever rigged those spotlights with explosive is the person responsible for my daughter’s death.”

“We can’t be sure of that,” the man said guardedly.
 
“But we’ve considered it.”

“You’re telling me you don’t see the parallel?”

“Until we have more information, it’s under consideration.”

“Here’s something else to consider,” George said, rising from his seat.
 
“I’ve been waiting weeks for you to find out who was behind those explosives, but you’ve come back with nothing.
 
Not one thing.
 
Tell me why.”

“It was done professionally,” the man said.
 
“Whoever tapped those lights left no leads.”

“They’re there,” George said.
 
“You and your incompetent team of men just haven’t looked hard enough.”

The man’s face flushed.
 
The two uniformed cops standing behind him exchanged glances.
 
“With all due respect, Mr. Redman, we’ve looked damned hard.”

“Bullshit,” George said.
 
“Whoever’s responsible for those lights exploding is responsible for my daughter’s death and they’re still out there.
 
Free.
 
Probably getting ready to do something else to my family.
 
So, why don’t you get off your asses and do something about it before that happens?”

The Lieutenant turned to his men and nodded toward the door.
  
He moved to follow, but then stopped and looked at George.
 
“I understand that you’re upset, Mr. Redman,” he said. “And my heart goes out to you and your family.
 
But nobody here killed your daughter.
 
Keep that in mind next time you talk to us.”

He was gone before George could say another word.

 

 

*
 
*
 
*

 

 

It was a moment before anyone in the room spoke.

In the distance, George could hear telephones ringing.
 
He imagined his staff saying that Mr. and Mrs. Redman had no comment at this time.

He looked over at Jack.
 
The man was sitting with his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands.
 
He was shivering
.
 
I know you tried to help her
, he thought.
 
I don’t blame you.

Elizabeth broke the silence.
 
Her features were oddly calm.
 
“We need to be with her, George,” she said.
 
“She’s our daughter and we have to go.
 
I don’t want her there alone.
 
If they’ll let me, I’ll stay the night with her.”

She was in shock.
 
He could see it on her face, hear it in her voice and he wished that there was something he could do or say that would take away her pain.
 
But he wasn’t that clever.

On the table next to Elizabeth, the phone rang.
 
It was their personal line.
 
No one but intimate friends and the immediate family knew the number but themselves.

George reached past Elizabeth and answered it, knowing this would be one of many calls they would take in the coming days.

It was Harold Baines.
 
To George’s surprise, he didn’t mention Celina, but instead told George to quickly turn on a television.
 
George found the remote on a desk and pointed it at the television across the room.
 
He pushed the power button and asked Harold which channel.
 
Harold told him and George was surprised that he was being directed to an entertainment channel.

The sound came on before the picture.

George heard the familiar voice of a woman.
 
Then Leana was on the screen.
 
She was standing beside Michael Archer.

They were holding hands.
 
Their smiles lit the screen.
 
He and Elizabeth and Jack listened as an announcer reported their recent marriage.

Elizabeth put a hand to her mouth.

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