The Schwarzschild Radius (45 page)

“This concludes the interviews, distinguished guests. Now that you’re all well acquainted with our victims, the bidding will start at one-hundred-thousand dollars. Due to time constraints surrounding these girls, we’ll skip the preliminary rounds we’ve had in the past and go directly to execution. Please place your bids.”

One-ten.

One-twenty.

One-fifty.

One-eighty.

Two-twenty.

Two-fifty.

There was a pause.

“Gentlemen, remember the uniqueness of this situation. Three girls, and two are sisters. Think of the possibilities. They’re endless. Let me make a few humble suggestions.” Brazos described a few scenarios and the bidding resumed.

Two-eighty-five.

Three-ten.

“The winner will have a unique record. Think of the difficulty of obtaining what you will have in your hands, like a rare gem, a work of art. And you’ll be the author of its beauty. Can you look at Michelangelo’s David and say you had a hand in its creation? The Last Supper? Here, you will be the artist. I’m only the hand of the artist.”

Three-forty.

Three-sixty.

“I have three-sixty. Do I hear three-eighty? Three-eighty. Do I hear four-hundred? Three-eighty going once. Three-eighty going twice. Sold for three-hundred-eighty thousand dollars to Client Number Two. Gentlemen, thank you all for participating. You’ll be notified of our next session. Congratulations to you, sir. A fine purchase. I’m sending you the account information you’ll need to make the payment. It will be a live event, and I will also provide you with the exclusive download of the scene in accordance with your specifications. Again, think of me as the hand of the artist.”

he Cyber Crimes Unit found the chat session with Achara containing her flight number. That led police to Rachel’s car in the Terminal Seven parking lot. There was no sign of a struggle. Her parking stub was in the sun visor, time-stamped at 2:14 a.m. the previous night.

“I need the time of entry and exit of every vehicle in this lot between midnight and four a.m.,” McKenna told the duty manager. “Also, I want to know if any cars that came in during that window are still here.”

The detective walked the path between Rachel’s car and the terminal. There was nothing on the ground, no blood, no weapon.

The duty manager came back.

“Forty-two vehicles arrived during that window. Only one is still here. This one.”

“Any security cameras trained on the parking lot?” he asked.

“Sorry, no.”

Great.

McKenna went to the Cathay Pacific desk and flashed his badge. “Was there was a Flight 1343 arriving at 2:30 a.m. last night?”

“Yes, originating in Chiang Mai, Thailand,” said the girl.

“Can you look up if there was an Olivia Wallen on the flight?”

She scanned the screen. “No, sorry. No such passenger.”

“What about―” He took out the paper. “Achara. I guess that’s her first name. I don’t have a last name.”

She paged down a screen quickly.

“There were three. Yes, three Acharas. It’s a fairly common name.”

“Is there a way to find out if any of them had an American passport?”

“Customs would be able to assist you there.”

“Thanks.”

At Customs, he inquired about the three Acharas that arrived last night.

“Could I get their ages?”

“Eighty-one, eighteen, and twenty.”

“Any issues with any of them? They all entered without a problem?”

“No issues.”

“I need to see the surveillance tape for that flight.”

McKenna went through it twice. There was no one resembling Olivia, that is, Achara. So she wasn’t on that flight.

The detective came back out to the parking lot. This was where Rachel disappeared. There was no doubt in McKenna’s mind that she was abducted. She had to walk toward the underpass to get to the terminal. It would have been dark there, even with the lighting. It didn’t look like a crime of opportunity―no mugger sits in a parking lot in an airport at two in the morning waiting for a mark. It had to be someone who followed her or knew where she was going to be. It could only be the killer.

Ninety percent of all kidnap victims are dead within twenty-four hours. He looked at his watch. 3:32 p.m. She was taken over twelve hours ago. McKenna knew he probably had less than ten hours if he was going to find her alive.

razos received the email he was waiting for. After decrypting it, he read it through twice and was impressed with the imagination of Client Number Two. This would be a first for Brazos. He logged into his offshore bank account and confirmed that the money was there.

Now he had to go out and purchase the things he needed.

“He’s been gone a while,” whispered Rachel. “How long does he usually leave for?”

“He buys things,” said Olivia. “He bought things to butcher that poor girl. Before my eyes.”

“Kirsten Schrodinger?”

Olivia nodded, unable to speak.

“Don’t think about that. You getting your medicine?”

Olivia nodded. “You know about Achara?”

“I got the passport to her. And money. I went to the airport to pick her up and he was waiting for me. I don’t know how he knew. I told no one.”

“So…”

“I don’t know what happened to her. I sent her all the information she needed to get past Immigration. She’s got the address of the house. How did he know I’d be at the airport? Something or somebody tipped him off.”

“He asked me Achara’s Yahoo Messenger password,” said Olivia. “I didn’t think much of it. He asked me about every detail of my life.”

“Her YM password?” repeated Rachel. Then it all became clear to her. Rachel smacked the back of her head against the wall, furious at herself. “Oh God, he was chatting with me, posing as Achara. Son of a bitch. And I fell for it. I hacked into a bunch of PCs, looking for you, but his wasn’t one of them. I should have brought Joules in from the beginning. I did it on my own. Left a trace or something.

“Oh my God. He hacked into my laptop. Joules was using his laptop, too. If he traced Joules…” Her thoughts stopped at the edge of the precipice. The image of Joules coming through that door with his hands tied behind him was too much. Anguish gave way to fury.

“Look, we’re all tied to the same thing. Let’s try to loosen it. All together lean forward. Put all your weight behind it.” They struggled like this for many minutes and became immediately exhausted. The U-bolt was immovable.

“The ropes just get tighter,” said Sonia. “It’s cutting off my blood.”

“What’s behind those doors?” asked Rachel.

“That one’s a storage closet or something. I don’t know what that other door leads to,” answered Olivia.

“If it’s an old subway station, then that could be the tracks.”

“Whatever it is, there’s no one there. We’ve screamed enough to know.”