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Authors: Reed Farrel Coleman

Tags: #FIC022090, #FIC031010, #FIC050000

BOOK: Love and Fear
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The apartment was a wreck. You could see that from the doorway. Gulliver told the super to stay in the hall. He unholstered his
SIG
and used his elbow to push the door back. Stepping inside, Gulliver knew things had been stolen. He didn’t need to have seen the apartment before. There was a large
TV
table with no
TV
on it. A computer desk with no computer on it. A wall unit with empty spaces where a stereo or surround-sound system might have been. When he
looked closely at these three places, Gulliver saw outlines in the dust that told him he was right. There had been a
TV
. A computer. A sound system. Closets were open. Clothes were thrown everywhere. Drawers had been emptied and turned upside down. If there had been jewelry or cash in the apartment when Bella went missing, it was gone now. There was something else. The walls were empty. There were nails and hangers where pictures or photos had been hung, but no pictures or photos.

“You want I should call the cops?” the super asked.

Gulliver shook his head. “No.”

The super looked surprised and relieved. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened here, but Gulliver kept it to himself for the moment.

“No?” the super repeated. “Are you sure?”

“Very.” Then Gulliver said, “You know who rents this apartment?”

“Sure. Pretty girl. An artist, right?”

Gulliver nodded. “You know her name?”

“Vespucci.”

“That’s right. That name sound familiar to you?” Gulliver asked. He didn’t wait for the super to answer. “You know, Vespucci, as in Joey ‘Dollar Menu’ Vespucci. Like that.”

The super got a look on his face like he’d been hit with a pipe across the kidneys.

“Yeah, I don’t think Joey would want the cops involved with his youngest daughter’s apartment getting robbed,” Gulliver said. “He’s a man who likes to handle these things on his own.”

The super looked about ready to faint.

Then Gulliver delivered the last part of his message. “My guess is that things would go easier on the thief if the stolen stuff got returned. The faster the better. The more that gets returned, the fewer the limbs that will get removed from the thief ’s body.”

The super turned to go, but Gulliver told him to wait.

“In a few minutes two men will buzz you to get let into the building. Let them in and show them up here.”

“Yes, sir,” said the super. Then he ran toward the elevator.

EIGHT

Ahmed’s expression remained the same. Tony’s did not. He looked torn between losing his mind or flying off in a rage. Gulliver understood why seeing the state of Bella’s apartment would do that to him. But Gulliver couldn’t afford to have Tony losing it.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” Gulliver spoke directly to Tony.

“What are you talking about? The place looks like it was hit by a freakin’ twister.”

“Trust me, Tony. At least two different events happened here. Maybe three.”

“You’re nuts, Dowd.”

“Nah, Tony,” Ahmed said, “the little man is right. He knows his stuff.”

Gulliver explained. “Look, I read the reports. When the
PI
s Joey hired first checked out the apartment, it was fine. It was fine the second time too. In fact, they staked out the building for two weeks straight. Then they took their man off the building, figuring it was a waste of time and manpower. Somebody figured out that Bella was missing and knew this was an easy score. Ten to one it was the super. I’m sure it was him who came in and took the electronics. He also took the jewelry and whatever cash Bella had around.”

Tony’s face had twisted so that he barely looked human. “I’ll kill that mother—”

Gulliver held up his palms. “Relax. I already threw a scare into the super. I guarantee you, whatever he didn’t sell off or fence will be returned. And he will replace
everything else with newer and bigger models. Besides, he didn’t have anything to do with Bella’s disappearing. He’s not who or what worries me.”

“What are you talking about?” Ahmed asked.

“Look at the walls,” Gulliver said.

Tony didn’t understand. “What about them?”

Ahmed got it. “They’re empty. Nothing’s on them.”

“Give the man a cigar,” Gulliver said. “There had to be pictures and photos on the walls. Maybe even some of Bella’s own art.”

“Jeez! You’re right,” Tony said. “The walls used to be full of photos Bella took and things she’d painted. There were family photos and framed museum posters too.”

“The super didn’t steal those,” Gulliver said. “They wouldn’t have any value to him.”

“So who you think took the stuff off the walls, little man?”

“Good question, Ahmed. Maybe Bella. Maybe she ran away but couldn’t stand to be without her work or photos of her family. Some people get attached to objects. I’ve tracked down grown women who’d been missing since they were young teenagers. Some were living rough. Some were turning tricks. But still I’d find them with little things they’d taken with them—a stuffed penguin or a favorite doll or blanket. Maybe Bella had a friend come in and grab the stuff.”

“That’s two events, Dowd,” Tony said. “You mentioned there might be three.”

Gulliver nodded. “I did. Something else is missing too. All of Bella’s painting equipment. You can see paint spatter where she used to work in the spare bedroom. But there’s no easel. No brushes. No paint. Nothing.”

Ahmed smiled. Tony noticed.

“What’s your pal smiling at, Dowd?”

“You tell him, Ahmed.”

“Like the little man says, the electronics and cash were lifted by the super or whoever. Everything else looks like your girl ran away. Who’s going to steal photos and art equipment? At least, that’s what it’s meant to look like.”

“You understand what he means, Tony?” Gulliver asked.

“That if someone wanted us to think Bella left of her own free will, they would take the stuff on the walls and her painting stuff.”

Gulliver nodded.

“Now what?” Tony wanted to know.

“Now we’ve got to find a way to hack Bella’s texts, phone messages and computer.”

Tony laughed. “Is that all?”

Gulliver said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got her phone number and carrier.
You find out who her Internet service was through. Then I’ll take care of it.”

“She had a Gmail account and one from the local cable company. I seen some of her emails to Maria,” Tony said. Then he laughed again. “What are you, Superman in a little package? You’re a black belt. You shoot. You handle a knife like you was born with one in your hand. You track down missing people like a bloodhound. You’re a genius hacker too?”

“No, but I know one. It’ll cost you and Joey big bucks. But unless you want to go to the police, it’s your only choice.”

“No cops,” Tony said. “Joey will never go to the cops. Never!”

“Okay then. Ahmed, you and Tony go have a talk with the super about the security cameras at the building’s entrance and exit doors. Make sure he knows that no is not an answer we want to hear. Have all the video for the last two weeks sent to
my email address. I’ll look around here a little more. Then drop me back at the office. After that, take Tony back to Staten Island. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Come on, Dowd,” Tony protested. “It’s not that late. Every day that passes—”

“Believe me, Tony, I get it,” Gulliver said. “I know you’re scared, and you’re not used to being scared. But we have to be smart about this. If Bella didn’t run, then someone might have her. And if someone has her, we have to assume that person is pretty smart.”

“Why?”

“Because he made it look like she came back for her things,” Ahmed answered. “Look at the door. It ain’t been busted in. Whoever came in here had a key. We figure the super had a key to steal the goods. But whoever came back for the photos and the art stuff had a key too. Most likely Bella’s key.
And if Bella didn’t run herself, that means whoever has her knows we may be watching for him. He may be watching us. So if anything, we have to look like we think she ran away. We can’t be looking desperate or panicked or nothing.”

“But if somebody’s got her, why ain’t Joey got a note asking for money?” Tony asked.

It was a logical question. A question Gulliver didn’t want to answer but had to.

“Because sometimes it’s not about the money, Tony. It’s about the girl.” Gulliver patted him on the forearm. “But let’s not jump to the wrong ideas here. Let’s see what we can find. Just remember that we can’t let anyone watching us think we’ve caught on. Now, go speak to the super. He’s already pretty scared. One look at you two, and he’ll give you anything you ask for.”

When Ahmed and Tony had left, Gulliver took another look around the
apartment. He stared out at the Manhattan skyline as night began to fall. It was always an amazing sight, but Gulliver took no comfort in it. He had a bad feeling about this case. A very bad feeling.

NINE

Only two people on earth knew the real identity of the hacker known as Happy Meal. One was Gulliver Dowd. The other was Happy Meal himself. Happy Meal’s real name was Sha’wan Jones. Most folks just called him Shea, like the old stadium the Mets used to play in. And to most folks, Shea was a twentysomething slacker living in the basement of his mom’s house in Bed-Stuy. But Gulliver Dowd wasn’t most folks. Not only did Gulliver know Happy Meal’s identity. He also knew that the house belonged to Happy Meal, not to his mom.

It was Gulliver who had found Shea out on the street almost eight years earlier. Shea was one of Gulliver’s first runaway cases. His mother couldn’t pay much, but Gulliver was trying to get a rep back then. A good rep was more important than money when you were starting out. As a chubby black fourteen-year-old kid with Asperger’s who didn’t play ball, Shea was bullied, beaten and robbed at school. Gulliver Dowd knew something about that. Yes, he did. With no dad at home and a mom who loved him but worked two jobs, Shea was left to deal with his problems by himself. One day he just ran.

Gulliver had located him in a few days. Shea was already in bad shape. He was eating out of garbage cans on the streets of the Bronx. When Gulliver found him, the first thing Shea asked for was a Happy Meal. Gulliver drove him to a McDonald’s and bought him two. The nickname had stuck.
Everything else had changed. Sha’wan Jones had grown into a lanky young man. Handsome too. He hadn’t outgrown the Asperger’s, but he had learned to deal with it and use it. These days Happy Meal’s services were in big demand, and he made a boatload of money. Most of what he did wasn’t exactly legal. He didn’t steal money or plant viruses or malware. He didn’t destroy systems. He was good at peeking in places he wasn’t allowed and figuring things out. He could see things everyone else missed.

When Gulliver went down into the basement, Shea didn’t stand to greet him. He just sort of half smiled at Gulliver and kept pecking at his keyboard. He never took his eyes off the screen.

He did say, “Did you bring it?”

Gulliver laughed. He raised up his right hand to show Shea the bag with the Happy Meal in it.

Shea nodded. He didn’t eat burgers or fries anymore. But this was their ritual. Rituals were important to Shea. And this was the way Gulliver and Shea hugged hello.

“I’ve got a program working on the video you sent me from the building. I’m working on the phone and the computer stuff now. I should have the phone stuff first. Maybe by tomorrow. The computer stuff is more iffy. Depends how much was stored in the cloud.”

“Do the best you can.”

“I always do, Mr. Dowd.” He had never gotten out of the habit of calling Gulliver that.

“I know you do. Any luck locating the phone?”

Shea shook his head. “My guess is that it’s been destroyed. Probably in pieces in the river.”

Gulliver agreed.

“You think someone’s taken her?” Shea asked.

“My gut tells me yes.”

“That’s good enough for me. Have you told the family yet?”

“Not yet,” Gulliver said. “I need something more than my gut for that. These are serious people.”

Shea understood without having to ask.

“How much for the work?” Gulliver asked. “My client can afford it, so don’t hold back.”

Shea shook his head violently. Most of the time he didn’t charge Gulliver.

Gulliver knew better than to argue. “When you have something, anything, let me know.”

“Will do, Mr. Dowd.”

“Anything else, Shea?”

“Did you bring apple juice or milk with my meal?”

“Milk, of course,” Gulliver said.

Shea stopped typing and got a weird look on his face.

Gulliver laughed. “Got ya! I brought you apple juice, like always.”

That was the one thing Shea still enjoyed from the Happy Meal. As soon as he knew it was apple juice, Shea went back to work.

TEN

The girl sitting across from Gulliver was striking. Thin but curvy, she had light-brown hair cut short in a kind of one-sided bob. She had a triangular face with a well-defined chin. Depending on the light or the angle at which she held her head, the color of her eyes seemed to shift from light blue to green. Her skin was pale and lightly freckled, and her nose was small and angular. She was dressed with great style.

Walking the block-long campus of the Fashion Institute of Technology, Gulliver had noticed it wasn’t like most college campuses.
He had also noticed that the students didn’t look like most college students. None of them looked as if they had just rolled out of bed. When Gulliver was in college, everyone looked like an unmade bed. Then again,
FIT
did have the word
fashion
in its name. Its students seemed to take that to heart.

Niki Philipps brushed her hair back and gave Gulliver a cute smile. She hadn’t reacted at all when she saw him. That was unusual. Almost everybody but the blind reacted in some way to their first sight of Gulliver Dowd. Niki was Bella’s roommate, and she had been happy to accept Joey Vespucci’s offer to pay her rent. She said she hadn’t thought twice about the offer and didn’t see anything wrong with it.

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