The October List

photography—’
    ‘She’s good,’ Karpankov broke in. ‘Real good.’ He gestured to a black-and-white landscape on his wall. ‘That’s one of hers.’
    Joseph reviewed the image without reaction and looked back.
    Gabriela continued. ‘I took a job with the Crime Scene unit as a photographer. One day we got a call in Queens. A shootout. Nobody checked my last name, and it turned out that my father was the victim.’
    ‘Well.’ Joseph’s brows dipped.
    ‘There wasn’t any mystery; he was killed by friendly fire. Two junior detectives just emptied their guns at a kid they thought was an armed rapist – he wasn’t either of those, by the way. The investigators screwed up and had the wrong man. The supposed suspect was wounded superficially. My father – he was backing them up – was hit six times and died instantly.
    ‘When the lead detective realized who I was they took me off the case – conflict of interest, of course – but I shot plenty of pictures anyway. I wanted to record who the killers were, his fellow cops.’
    ‘They went to jail?’ Joseph inquired.
    ‘No. My father’s death was deemed accidental. They were suspended for two weeks – with pay. Then returned to duty. Like nothing had happened.’
    ‘They’re still on the force?’
    ‘They’re no longer with us,’ she said quietly. Then she looked at Joseph. ‘But aren’t you really asking how I ended up here , working with Peter?’
    ‘Yeah, I guess I am.’
    ‘After Dad’s death, my mother fell apart. She was sick, emotionally sick, even before it happened. His death destroyed her. The department and the city didn’t do anything for her. It was like they couldn’t admit they’d screwed up. But Peter showed up on our doorstep. He saved her life, got her into a hospital. His wife took care of her too. It turned out that Dad had worked for Peter all along. I decided I was going to do the same.’
    ‘I didn’t want her to at first,’ Karpankov said. ‘But she was persistent. I’m glad she was. Ralph McNamara was helpful getting my organization inside information about investigations and the like. Gabriela’s been helpful with that … and with other skills.’
    Gabriela didn’t tell Joseph that her father’s nature was ingrained within her. She could recall dozens of incidents at school where she’d ended up in the principal’s office, often along with security or even the police, after she’d lost it – madly attacking a girl or boy who’d bullied her or another student. The Professor’s status as a respected detective protected her from the juvenile system and he helped her learn to control her urges toward violence.
    But control only, never eliminate.
    Now Gabriela disposed of family history with a click of knitting needles. ‘So, with Reardon, we’ll have the NYPD help us.’ Ideas were continuing to come fast. This was how it always worked. The mind is an inventive and fertile creature. Some thoughts she discarded, some she wrestled into shape, some she let stand as perfectly formed components of her scheme. Her palms were damp with sweat and her heart beat a fast, visceral rhythm.
    Joseph asked, ‘What can I do?’
    ‘I’ll explain to my captain and the police that you’re a confidential informant working for me. That’ll let me keep you anonymous. We’ll use only your first name. I’ll be Gabriela … McKenzie .’ Her eyes had taken in the brand name on the label of a bottle of whisky sitting on the credenza behind Karpankov. ‘Gabriela McKenzie, a businesswoman of some sort, and you’ll be extorting me for a lot of money.’ A faint thud as an idea emerged. It was gold. ‘We’ll pretend you’ve kidnapped my daughter.’
    ‘You have a daughter?’
    ‘No. I don’t have any children. But you come up to me when I’m with Reardon and tell me that you’ve kidnapped her and you’ll kill Sarah if I don’t get you what you want.’
    ‘Your daughter’s going to be Sarah?’
    ‘That’s right. It’s the name of my horse. A filly I stable upstate and ride on weekends. But we’ll download some pictures of a six year old. Videos, too.’
    Joseph nodded. ‘People’re idiots, how much they post online.’
    ‘Isn’t that the truth.’
    ‘What am I going to want from you that’s worth kidnapping a little girl?’
    Another idea occurred. Sometimes they fell like snow. ‘A document. A secret list. Very valuable. A list that everybody wants – which means Reardon’ll want it