Page 79 of The Attercop

Gary marched up to the concierge desk, the others in tow. He and Constable Smith flashed their badges. “I need the key for suite fourteen-o-two. This is an emergency situation and a life could be in danger.”

The concierge couldn’t have been more than twenty. From the look on his face, Charlie figured he hadn’t dealt with a situationtougher than a residential noise complaint. The concierge reached for a binder labelled ‘Procedures’ and said, “Ah. Just a moment. I’ll have to—”

Gary interrupted. “You’ll have to give me the key to that unit now, unless you want to be charged with obstruction of a police investigation!”

The face of the concierge lost what little colour it had. He turned and unlocked a wall cabinet from which he removed a key-card labelled ‘14M’. With a shaky hand, he passed it to Gary. “It’s the master for the fourteenth floor. It’ll open any door on that level, but please only use it on fourteen—whatever suite you said. Oh, and if you could hand it back to me when you’re done it’d save my job.”

Charlie and the others took the elevator up and located suite fourteen-o-two. Gary pointed to Charlie and Sam. “You two stay well behind us. First, we knock. If there’s no response, we use the key and check the place out. Once Smith and I have ascertained that it’s safe, we’ll come back for you two. Understand?”

Charlie and Sam both nodded.

Gary knocked several times, opened the door and the two cops disappeared inside. A few minutes later, Constable Smith reappeared. “You can come in now. No one’s here.”

Charlie followed Sam into the apartment. It was sparsely furnished. In the living room there was a leather armchair and sofa that shared a simple chrome and glass end-table. In front of the sofa was a wooden coffee table with an empty tumbler and a half-full bottle of Grey Goose vodka. The only other furnishings were a large flat-screen TV and a stereo.

The walls were covered with images—dozens of photographs, newspaper and magazine pictures of Declan. A few of the photos had obviously been surreptitiously taken at The Greek.

“Well, that’s creepy as hell,” Smith said as he came to stand beside Charlie.

“Look what I found,” Sam called out. Charlie turned. Sam came from the other room holding a bundle of old clothes. He laid the items out on the sofa. There was a grubby trench coat, a black fisherman’s cap, a contact lens case with a pair of coloured lenses, and a plastic bag filled with hair. Sam opened it and pulled out a fake beard and a wig with a ponytail.

“Oh, shit,” Charlie said. “They’re his disguises.”

“Okay,” the constable said, “whatever that means.”

“Is no one else curious about these?” Gary said, pointing to two suitcases on the floor by the front door.

“Looks like someone is thinking of taking a trip,” Constable Smith said. “I bet he’ll be coming back for these. I can put a watch on the apartment if you want.”

“That might be a good idea,” Gary said. “Charlie—do you have a picture of the guy?”

“Sure. I can pull one off of Facebook. But that isn’t going to help us find Declan any sooner.”

“There’s nothing else we can do here,” Sam said.

“At least I can spread the word with the division to keep a look out for Chipping. In the meantime, we have to reassess.”

Charlie slammed the heel of his hand against the wall in frustration. His smart watch made a pinging sound. Charlie glanced down. There was an email. It was flagged as urgent and the sender’s identification had been blocked. Charlie opened the message.

Are you available right now? If so, reply Yes.

Charlie replied.

Yes

Another message came through.

If you want to see Declan alive, you need to come to the parking lot behind the old Accurate Car Parts warehouse on 106th Ave, Southeast. Head to the rear. Drive in your own car. Do not involve the police or I will send the order and Declan will be murdered. You have thirty minutes to get there.

Charlie reread the instructions and burned them into his memory. After a few seconds both messages disappeared.

“What was that?” Sam asked.

“Whoever has Declan, just contacted me. They said if I involve the police, Declan is dead. I’m supposed to meet them…on my own.”

“No way,” Gary said. “You can’t do that. You’ll just be giving them a second hostage.”

“I have to do it.” Charlie paused. “But I think there’s a way I can do this so I won’t be totally alone.”