Someone else was moving around the room. With great effort, she rolled her eyes and recognized the jacket of the guy who had grabbed for her on Vanderbilt. He was wearing blue gloves, too, but not his ski mask anymore, which was even more distressing because it meant he was no longer concerned about Nikki’s ability to ID him later. The other man turned and walked up to her and leaned his face into hers. Dutch Van Meter said, “Hey, Heat. Rise and shine.”
She tried to turn away from him but couldn’t, and then realized why. It wasn’t from the chloroform hangover. She was lashed down. Both wrists and ankles were handcuffed. Heat struggled to lift her head. They had affixed her to a pair of wooden crossbeams, their own improvised St. Andrew’s Cross. Van Meter must have seen the realization dawn on her. “That’s right, cover girl. And you’re such a hotshot detective, I’ll bet you even know what comes next.”
A switch clicked and there was a low electronic hum. She spun her head toward him. Dutch was holding up a stainless steel wand the size and shape of a dildo. It had an insulated grip with two corded jacks — one black and the other red — plugged into the handle. “Want to talk irony? These things were developed as a means to relieve pain. See?”
Heat flinched and turned away, bracing for the shock as he touched the TENS to her forearm. At contact, her skin buzzed slightly and the muscle underneath contracted only mildly. “Guess I don’t need to tell you what else this can do.” He removed it and switched the unit off. “So. Which way does this go, hard or easy?” Nikki was still turned from him. “OK, let’s find out. First, easy. Where is the video?”
She swiveled her head back to face him. “That is easy. Because I don’t know.”
Van Meter nodded then turned over his shoulder to The Discourager. “They never make it easy, do they, Harv?”
Harvey said, “Detective, my advice? Just tell him, then we can make this quick.”
“He’s right. Pain or painless, you choose.”
“I told you the truth. I don’t know.”
“Let’s find out, shall we?” Dutch sat on a rolling work stool and flicked the switch. The hum, a little louder, returned. “We’ll start small and give you a chance.” He touched the same spot on her arm, only this time the vibration was greater and the muscle contracted involuntarily, forcing her elbow to bend against her will until he removed the wand. “And that was a low level,” he said. “Any new thoughts?”
“Plenty,” she said. “I’m thinking back to Central Park. When Harvey conveniently lost me. Who was driving the SUV?”
“Dave Ingram,” said The Discourager from across the room. “Guy logs fifteen years on Emergency Services. A sharpshooter, and you waste him with a lucky shot.”
Dutch swiveled his chair to Harvey. “He got sloppy.”
“He underestimated me,” said Heat. She gave Van Meter a look of defiance.
“Well, I haven’t. That’s why my little black box has so many settings.” He twisted the knob and the humming increased.
Heat tried to ignore the awful sound and riveted Dutch with her gaze. “What did Alan Barclay record? What was on his video that was worth killing everybody?”
Detective Van Meter chuckled. “We’re not talking, you are.” Her eyes darted to the wand which was now inches from her face. “Harvey, do they all talk?”
“They all talk.”
“They do,” said Dutch. “All of them. The kraut dancer? He gave up the priest. The priest, he gave up Montrose.” He paused. “Montrose, we didn’t get a chance to stimulate. He got all heroic, so I gave him some Affirmative Action. Right here.” He suddenly jabbed the tip of the wand under Nikki’s chin. The jolt caused her head to shudder uncontrollably and her jaw muscles to tense, clenching her teeth together so hard they ground against one another. Just as quickly, he pulled it away.
Heat gasped for air and fought nausea. Salt from her own sweat stung her eyes. When she had gulped enough breath, she said, “It was you guys, wasn’t it? You guys did something to the Huddleston boy. You were the ones who killed him.” Nikki pulled in a deep lungful. God, she felt like she was drowning. “That was on the video, right?”
“Nikki Heat. Always the detective. You’re handcuffed, we’re torturing you, and you’re asking the questions.” Dutch waved the wand before her eyes and said, “I only have one question. I know what was on the video. All I want to know is one thing — where is it?”
He knew it was an exercise, but Rook left her one more voice mail. As he pressed End, he figured it was probably more for him and his need for contact, even if it was one-sided. No, he told himself. If he left her voice mail, maybe she would survive to hear it.
At Twelfth Avenue and West 59th Street, he gave up using the car. He pulled the Camry over into the nearest spot he could find, and even though the posted notice warned that it was an active driveway, he had bigger concerns than a ticket and a tow. The problem was that his phone GPS worked fine, but it only gave an approximate location within five hundred feet, roughly a tenth of a mile. He stood at the corner where the Westside Highway ramp elevated and watched the blip on the digital map as he turned in a circle. By his reckoning, Nikki’s phone could be in one of four buildings: the paint warehouse, the sign manufacturer, a nameless pale brick structure that looked like private storage, or across the highway at the City Sanitation dock on the Hudson.
A frozen drizzle started to fall. Rook pulled his collar up against the night. He began his search by walking the perimeters of the three buildings on his side of the street. After that, he’d cross over to the Sanitation pier.
“Tell me something,” said Heat. Her throat was raspy, and when she ran her tongue along her teeth, she felt a new jagged chip on a molar. “You put three in Steljess to shut him up, didn’t you?”
Van Meter adopted a pose of mock innocence. “Nonsense. I did it to save your life, Heat.”
“Yuh, right. After you sent him to bomb my apartment. Where’d you get the C4?”
The Discourager started to speak, but Van Meter cut him off. “Shut up, Harvey. Enough.”
“Military grade explosive is hard to get, even for cops,” she continued. “Who’s behind this? Somebody big, right? Is it somebody outside the force? Somebody big who has pull? Somebody down at City Hall? Somebody national?”
Dutch said, “You about done? ’Cause now it’s time to light ’em up. Where is the video?” He twisted the red teardrop-shaped knob half a turn clockwise, and a buzz filled Nikki’s ears like all the beehives in the world.
Behind him, Harv stood and turned his back, unwilling to watch. From that angle, Heat could see the deep fingernail gouge in his handcuff case, which was empty.
“Last chance,” said Dutch. He paused. Then he rolled on his stool down toward her waist and out of her view. Heat felt her blouse being unbuttoned.
And then the lights went out and the buzzing stopped.
“Shit. Harvey, you said there was enough juice here for this thing.”
“The fuck I know. Should be, but it’s an old building, so shit happens. We need to find the circuit breakers, I guess.”
The glow of the city against the clouds filtered through skylights and cast the workroom in a pale lunar radiance. At the door, Van Meter paused and said, “Don’t go away.” Then he and The Discourager left.
Nikki pulled against the handcuffs. All they did was bite her skin. She was resting, trying to suppress panic, when the door opened again. She lifted her head and saw Detective Feller. He wasn’t wearing a ski mask, either.
“Your partner quit and gave up,” she said.
Feller put a finger to his lips and whispered, “I screwed with the power to get them out of here.” She felt the handcuff opening on one ankle, then the other. When he came up beside her to unlock her wrists, she saw the gun he held at his side. “Can you walk?” he asked.