Page 24 of Billion-Dollar Ransom
AS HER EYES adjusted, Nicky realized the room wasn’t completely empty.
“What the hell is this?” Nicky asked, her voice almost a whisper.
“Maybe Schraeder’s going to show us his greatest media hits from Fox News and MSNBC.”
Randolph Schraeder’s face appeared on the screen as if he were beaming into one of those cable channels.
“No, I’m not, Detective Hardy.”
Schraeder’s media setup had been carefully composed to emphasize his strengths (his piercing avian glare; his wide bony shoulders) and deemphasize his weaknesses—namely, that he was old and frail.
Although the billionaire seemed to dominate the frame, Nicky noticed he was trembling slightly, his forehead beaded with perspiration, and he was not making much eye contact. Was this due to a medical condition? Or was he truly terrified for his family and in a state of shock?
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Mr. Schraeder,” Nicky said. “I’m Special Agent Gordon, and I am heading up the task force to safely bring your family back h—”
“I know all about you, Agent Gordon. Here’s what I don’t know. What are you doing to find my wife and two young children?”
Nicky noticed he didn’t include his older son, as if Tyler were not his concern.
“At this moment,” Nicky said, “you’re in the position to help us the most. If we may ask you a few questions about your two young children, your wife, and your older son—”
“You misunderstand the situation, Detective,” Schraeder said. “Your little task force means nothing to me. I am taking charge of this investigation, and I will personally handle all negotiations with the perpetrators.”
Mike decided to tag himself in, catching Nicky by surprise.
“Respectfully, Mr. Schraeder, that would be unwise. You will have the resources of the LAPD and the LA field office of the FBI at your disposal. Use us. We will be working around the clock to bring your family home. But to make that happen as quickly as possible, we’re going to need your cooperation. ”
Schraeder flat-out ignored the chief of detectives. He was attempting to hijack the investigation through sheer bluster, which was a mistake.
“My investigatory team will be led by James Haller and Virgil Tighe, the CEO and CFO, respectively, of the security firm Capital. I expect you will give them your full cooperation.”
The room lights came up. Sitting several rows of seats behind Mike and Nicky were two men with one empty spot between them. They had been watching the whole time. At least they hadn’t helped themselves to popcorn while they enjoyed the awkward show.
Nicky was well aware of Capital and its reputation. Hollywood loved the company, and its stock prices were riding an all-time high. Capital managed to project an image of high-end private security and investigation unheard of since the glory days of the Pinkertons. The name alone intimidated.
But Nicky knew it was all glitter and smoke. Half of Capital’s so-called operatives wouldn’t make it past the FBI’s initial screening interview.
Mike was the first to cross the room and extend a hand. “Mike Hardy, chief of detectives. LAPD.”
The first man stared at Mike’s hand as if it were toxic. “James Haller. Capital.”
“Yeah, I just heard that.”
“We’re going to need the ransom tape as well as any ancillary materials, like the packaging it arrived in and camera feeds.”
“You’re going to have to talk to Ms. Gordon about that. You were listening when she mentioned she was heading up the task force, right?”
Haller slid a bone-white business card out of his jacket pocket and extended it to Mike. “You can have the materials sent here.”
“And you can discuss that with Ms. Gordon, who is standing right over there.”
Virgil Tighe was a touch friendlier, if only by comparison. He locked eyes with Nicky and leaned forward.
“Agent Gordon? Virgil Tighe.” His surname sounded like tiger minus the r .
“Good to meet you, Mr. Tighe.”
“We’d like the ransom cassette, naturally. But I’d also like to hear more about the previous Santa Barbara kidnapping. I understand you believe that case is related to this one?”
Nicky felt the ground shift beneath her.
These were not details Randolph Schraeder should have known.
Then again, most targets of a kidnapping-for-hire didn’t have the financial power that Schraeder had.
And he’d apparently used it to buy himself a mole in Nicky’s own task force.
Her mind spun through the faces in the Sandbox. Who was feeding Schraeder this intel?
She turned away from Tighe to face the screen. “Mr. Schraeder, believe me when I tell you this is not a good idea. You’re going to risk putting the people you love in grave danger.”
Randolph Schraeder finally locked eyes with Nicky and flashed a smile that caught her by surprise. It wasn’t cruel or sneering; he was genuinely raw with emotion.
“Do you love my wife and children with all your heart and soul? Or is this just another case for you, one you eagerly accepted because you saw it as the fast track to heading up your own field office someday?”
“When the stakes are personal, it is very easy to make an error of judgment,” Nicky said, ignoring the dig. “You’re far too smart a man not to realize that.”
“Really, Agent Gordon,” Schraeder said. “So if kidnappers took your daughter, Kaitlin, would you happily cede control to a third party who was only in it for the paycheck? Or would you do anything in your power—and I mean anything —to guarantee her safe return?”