The Amendment Killer (Brooks/Lotello Thriller) Page 7

  After a momentary lapse, the improved images resumed on both ends. Hirschfeld saw his daughter seated on the family room sofa, crouched forward, fingers clenched tightly in her lap. Mark stood behind her, hands gently on her shoulders. Whitney, the family pup, was scrunched up on the sofa next to Jill. He was burrowed into her, his chin on her lap as if intuitively sensing that something was clearly wrong.

  “Where’s Cassie, Arnold? She’s not answering her phone. There’s no response on her Find My Friends app either.” Mark’s normally stoic disposition faltered. Cassie was their only child. “What the hell’s going on?”

  Jill finally glanced up. Her eyes and face were already red and swollen, but she completely lost it when she and her dad locked eyes across the television screen. Since she was a child, he’d always been able to make everything right for his daughter.

  Hirschfeld wondered if that would be possible this time.

  Either Jill hadn’t heard Mark’s question or chose to ignore it. “Dad! What’s happening, where’s Cassie, who—”

  “Listen to me, please. Both of you. We don’t have much time. This is what I know.” Hirschfeld took a second to steady himself, get the quiver out of his voice. “Just as Court convened this morning, I received a text alert on my private cell. I always carry it with me. I opened it right there on the bench because only your mother, the two of you, and Cassie have that number. It began, ‘We have your granddaughter. Here’s what you need to do.’”

  He hesitated to again collect himself. “They want me to cause the amendment to be defeated. Whoever they are, they say they will return Cassie unharmed so long as that happens. Otherwise—”

  “She won’t be returned,” Jill finished her dad’s sentence. “She’ll be—”

  “Arnold,” Mark cut in, “how do you size up the vote?”

  Hirschfeld didn’t pull any punches. Or worry about the sanctity of the Court. “Right now it looks to me as if there are three definite votes to invalidate, four definite votes to uphold, including me, with two undecideds.”

  “Let me get this straight,” Mark said. “Even if the three votes to invalidate hold firm, and you switch your vote, you still need to persuade one of the two undecideds to vote to invalidate.”

  “Or one of the three votes to uphold other than me to switch.”

  “Your vote alone can’t control the outcome.”

  “Exactly. I’ll have to turn one other Justice. I get that.”

  “We have to call the FBI,” Mark said. “Right now. We are so in over our heads. Cassie’s life is on the line. It was all we could do to wait until the noon recess to speak with you, Arnold. We can’t wait another second.”

  “That’s strictly up to you and Jill. I’ll support whatever the two of you decide.” Hirschfeld took a long, ragged breath. “But I really don’t think that’s the best option.”

  A wailing sound, coming from somewhere deep inside Jill, stopped Mark and Hirschfeld. “Daddy, I can’t take this! Not for one more second. What options are you talking about? We don’t have any options. You have to fix this. Right now! You have to get my baby back. Whatever it takes.”

  Hirschfeld watched his daughter through the video technology. He wasn’t sure if she understood the significance of her words, all that might be required. Or the risks entailed in going to the FBI, a bureaucracy whose priorities and constraints might well differ from theirs. Her husband pushing her in one direction; her father resisting, possibly straining the relationship between husband and wife. Her only child’s life was hanging in the balance. Jill was unraveling before his very eyes. The three of them had to be on the same page. Hirschfeld felt that was on him.

  “Guys, I repeat, it’s your call. But let me at least tell you what I think.”

  Jill put her head in her hands and shook it slowly. Mark stared straight ahead, his body coiled with fear.

  “This is no ordinary kidnapping,” Hirschfeld said. “There’s been no demand for money. This isn’t about money. This isn’t about Cassie either. She’s just an innocent pawn in all of this, a means to an end. This is about ideologies. These people, whoever they are, want to dictate how our country is run. If I can help deliver what they want, I believe they’ll return Cassie.”

  “You’re just guessing, Arnold. You don’t actually know that.”

  “You’re right, Mark, I don’t. Admittedly, it’s just my feeling. But I do think I have a way to find out.”

  Jill glanced up, momentarily seeming a little calmer. “How, Dad, what do you mean?”

  “They’re watching me. In the courtroom. Or on the television. Maybe both. They see me. I want to talk to them.”

  “Arnold, how do you know they’re watching you? And how, exactly, do you intend to talk to them?” Hirschfeld could hear the skepticism in Mark’s voice.

  “This morning, when I was texting you guys, they sent me a second message, telling me to quit fiddling around with my phone. They had to be watching me.

  “That’s why I couldn’t leave the bench to call you until the noon recess. It will mean the end of their plans if they’re discovered. I can text them back from my cell phone, tell them I’m going to blow what they’re doing wide open unless I can immediately speak with Cassie. I don’t believe they’ve hurt her; they’re smart enough to realize I’d insist on this.”

  “No,” Jill murmured, shaking her head. “No. No, no, no.”

  “Arnold. How are you going to text them?”

  “Easy. They sent me a text. All I have to do is hit reply.”

  “I don’t think so. If that were true, then you could just hand your phone over to the FBI. They’re communicating with you through one or more burner phones. As soon as they send you a text, they remove the phone’s battery and destroy its SIM card to make sure they can’t be traced. That also means you can’t text them back.”

  “I don’t think they’ve done that. They’ve already sent me two different messages.”

  “SIM cards are cheap, Arnold. They’ve probably got dozens of them.

  “Trust me. If I can’t reach them, I’ll make them get in touch with me.”

  Jill suddenly stopped shaking her head. Mustering a tone of grim resolve, she said, “We do trust you, Dad.”

  Mark said nothing. The significance of that silence wasn’t lost on Hirschfeld. Under the circumstances, their unmistakably differing levels of faith in him could seriously undermine their relationship. Hirschfeld couldn’t let that happen.

  “I want to mention something, sick as it may sound. These people aren’t the only ones with any chips to play. We are, of course, desperate to get Cassie back. And they know that. However, I think they’re desperate too. To go to this extreme just to defeat the amendment. I don’t want to play chicken with Cassie’s life, but if I manage this right, I think there’s going to be an opportunity for me to pressure them. Create a dialogue. Before Cassie is in any serious jeopardy. I think time is on our side.”

  Mark looked aghast. “Arnold, are you prepared to do what they want? Can you actually bring yourself to trade your vote to get Cassie back?”

  Jill looked savagely at Mark. She screamed, “What kind of a question is that, Mark? Dad will clearly do whatever it takes.”

  “I know, Jill, but your dad has responsibilities we can’t begin to appreciate. This places him in a terrible position. I had to ask.” He glanced back up into the screen. “And I haven’t heard an answer.”

  “You’re right to ask, Mark, but you don’t have to worry. I’ll do whatever it takes.” Switching my vote isn’t the issue. It’s how I persuade others to join me.

  “Dad,” Jill interrupted. “You just said time was on our side. How long is all this going to take?

  “I don’t know yet, baby. I’m going as fast as I can.”

  “Are you saying it could take until the Court rules on Monday and these monsters confirm they’ve got the result they want?”

  “It could. We just have to be patient.”

  “Dad, listen
to me. Cassie does not have enough insulin with her to make it until next Monday. She’ll run out by tomorrow and be dead by Monday—even if these freaks don’t lay a hand on her.”

  “What are you talking about? Doesn’t Cassie always carry enough insulin on her?”

  Jill exploded. “When she left home this morning, she didn’t know to pack for a week! What’s the matter with you?”

  “I—”

  “Arnold, that’s not the only problem,” Mark said. “Assuming somehow we can arrange to get additional insulin to Cassie, and assuming you can persuade these people to keep her safe until you give them the result they want, what leverage do we have then? If she can possibly identify any of them, won’t they just kill her at that point when they have what they want?”

  Jill went white. “Mark! Don’t even—”

  “I’m sorry, I know. But we can’t overlook this.” Mark clutched her hand, then returned his eyes to the TV. “How do we get her back, Arnold?”

  “I don’t have an answer for you right now, but I’ll figure it out. One step at a time.” Right now, that was all he could think to say.

  “You don’t understand, Dad, Cassie will—”

  “I do understand, Jill. I do now. Believe me. But I have to return to the bench in six minutes. Are we agreed for now? No police, no FBI, we all behave like nothing’s wrong? At least until we talk again this evening?”

  “Dad, I’m just—”

  “Arnold, the whole afternoon—really? I gotta stand by my first instinct. The FBI—”

  “No!” Hirschfeld shouted into the phone. He was no longer going to pretend to defer to his kids. “I’m convinced of this. The surest way to guarantee Cassie dies is to contact the FBI. There will be no way to keep matters under wraps once that happens. The kidnappers will no longer be able to quietly control the case. Cassie will no longer be an asset to them. They’ll kill her and take off. Please. Try to keep it together. I’ll meet the two of you at your place as soon Court adjourns for the day. I’ll get there as fast as I can.”

  “All right,” Mark said, his voice exhibiting less conviction than Hirschfeld had wished.

  Jill simply whispered, “Okay.”

  “I could end up getting stuck going back and forth with Cassie’s kidnappers for a while. And I have to stop by the house and pick up your mother. I haven’t had time to speak with her about any of this. With her heart, I have to be the one to break this to her. And I have to do it in person.”

  “Dad, call us when you’re on the way home,” Jill said. “We’ll meet you at your place. It’ll save time. And that way Mom can stay put.” Her voice started to crack again.

  “I know, baby. Be strong. I have to go now.” He punched off.

  CHAPTER 21

  Tuesday, May 6, 12:40 pm

  BROOKS, Klein, Lotello, and his kids, Madison and Charlie, had just finished a hurried lunch. All Madison and Charlie talked about was checking out the DVR when they got home to see if the television cameras had captured either of them.

  Brooks and Klein had briefly reviewed what he planned on arguing in Court that afternoon. Brooks hadn’t yet said a word to Lotello. As they left the restaurant and headed back across the street to the courthouse, he motioned him to fall back a few steps behind the others. Klein must have noticed because she scooched Madison and Charlie back toward Court with her, leaving Brooks free to speak privately with Lotello.

  “What’s up, Judge?”

  “Not exactly sure, Detective. How best to put this . . .?”

  Brooks hesitated.

  “One of the Justices, Arnold Hirschfeld, is an old law school classmate of mine. I’ve known him for years. He seemed preoccupied this morning, out of sorts, as if his mind were somewhere else. On top of that, the line of questioning he pursued with your wife was exactly the opposite of what I would have expected from him. Both in style and substance.”

  “Hmm. Small world, Your Honor. Hirschfeld’s granddaughter, Cassie Webber, goes to school with Madison. They’re best friends, inseparable. Cassie was supposed to come with us to Court this morning. They wanted to watch Gramps and Mom in action. In fact, Cassie had arranged to introduce Madison to her grandfather after Court finished for the day. Cassie texted Madison early this morning, saying they should meet up in the school cafeteria before class. But Cassie never showed. Not at the cafeteria and then not later when we were all supposed to meet up and leave for the courthouse together.”

  Brooks stopped in his tracks. “And?” He made a rolling gesture with his hand. “Come on, Detective, we’re not getting any younger here.” He knew that Lotello would choose to ignore his taunt, but he enjoyed trying to tussle with him now and then anyway. Keeps the man on his toes.

  “Madison wanted to run back to Cassie’s class and find out why she didn’t come meet us out front. I didn’t let her. We would have been late to Court. Leah was up first. Hirschfeld was probably expecting to see Cassie in the courtroom and was a little off his game when she wasn’t there.”

  Brooks shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “That might explain his inattention, but not his harshness with Ms. Klein. I think there must be something more.”

  “Why don’t I do a little checking on Cassie’s whereabouts this afternoon?”

  “Great idea. Never would have thought of that myself. I’ll let Ms. Klein know why you won’t be with us in Court this afternoon.” Brooks draped his arm around Lotello’s shoulder, offering up a mischievous smile. “Besides, you can catch my brilliant performance on the DVR this evening. I heard your kids mention they were recording everything.”

  With that, Brooks turned and marched off briskly toward the courthouse, leaving Lotello behind, hopefully talking to himself.

  * * *

  Lotello knew Brooks was always two steps ahead of everyone else— in this case, literally as well as figuratively. He smiled at Brooks’s backside, and went to retrieve his car.

  As he drove off, Lotello reflected on the growing number of uncertainties surrounding Cassie. It was not in his nature to leave any loose ends hanging, especially when they might relate to the welfare of a youngster, his daughter’s best friend no less. He felt the need to buy some time to check things out.

  His Metro D.C. partner knew he was at the Supreme Court today. She expected him back tomorrow. He called and told her he was going to take a couple more days of personal leave to be with his wife through the Monday conclusion of her first ever case in the U.S. Supreme Court.

  * * *

  Madison had noticed her dad fall back with Brooks. Grown up stuff, she guessed, not for us kids. She hated it when her dad did that. But she liked the old guy, the one everyone called “Judge” Brooks even though he wasn’t a judge anymore. She was fine hanging with Leah so that her dad could talk about whatever she wasn’t allowed to be a part of.

  Her mind drifted to Cassie. She was a little miffed that her best friend had stood her up for their cafeteria date this morning, but figured she’d just decided to hit another bucket of balls. So like that girl, she thought, to forget everything else when she had a golf club in her hands. But not showing up to watch the big show in Court? Not answering my text at lunch a few minutes ago? Girl has some serious explaining to do.

  CHAPTER 22

  Tuesday, May 6, 12:45 pm

  CASSIE’S APPETITE HAD RETURNED. Using a plastic spoon, the only utensil anywhere in the room, she spread some peanut butter and jelly on a slice of bread. She removed the glucose test kit in her backpack and tested her sugar. She needed to monitor it more frequently than normal under stressful situations. It was 257, way too high given that she hadn’t consumed any carbs since breakfast. It had to be the circumstances. Maybe also whatever that creep had used to drug her.

  The sandwich would add carbs to her system and elevate her glucose level. But she had no choice; she had to eat to preserve her strength—even though it meant also having to dose more insulin to prevent her glucose levels from rising too high.

  Looking a
t the clock on her pump, she waited about fifteen minutes, the amount of time it usually took for the insulin to kick in and lower her sugar. Only then did she eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

  It tasted okay, sort of, but her recovered appetite was dulled knowing how much insulin she had just used up to cover the meal. And watching the insulin reserve in her pump reservoir observation window sliding dangerously lower only made it worse.

  And, to make matters still worse, her nausea was returning. Probably the combination of the peanut and jelly and the drug that man shot me up with me to knock me out. Uhh, I’m going to be sick. Right now!

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes before the top of the hour, when the Court proceedings would resume, the NBN-TV feed again went live.

  Nishimura smiled at the television cameras. She knew just how to play her viewing audience; she didn’t consistently get the ratings she did by accident. And her bosses hadn’t given her this one of a kind assignment for nothing.

  “Welcome back, everyone. Despite the somewhat abstract nature of the standing issues, the morning session certainly didn’t lack for tension or drama. It seemed to me that both sides were pummeled by the Justices. Chris, what can we expect during the remaining three sessions?”

  Elliott, his face already shiny with perspiration, coiled his neck and gave his necktie its obligatory tug.

  “This afternoon will be devoted to Article V of the Constitution, specifically the question of how and by whom the Constitution can be amended. Thursday morning’s session will examine the NoPoli Constitutional Convention. Thursday afternoon will be spent measuring the NoPoli Convention against the requirements of the Constitution. Given that all of these remaining issues were prompted by Congress’s appeal of the decision reached by the lower court upholding the 28th Amendment, Esposito will go first in each remaining session. Brooks will then follow.”

  “Which will bring us back full circle to Article V,” Nishimura said.