The abduction

Chapter 14

Jack Leeper wanted to talk. He sent a note to the jailer, who passed it on to Detective Slater. Late Friday afternoon, they marched Leeper from his cell block and through an old tunnel which led to the police station next door. Slater and his trusty sidekick, Capshaw, were waiting in the same dim and cramped interrogation room. Leeper looked as though he had not bathed or shaved since they had chatted with him the day before.

“Something on your mind, Leeper.” Slater began rudely. As always, Capshaw was taking notes.

“I talked to my lawyer today,” Leeper said, as if he were now more important because he had a lawyer.

“Which one?”

“Ozgoode, Kip Ozgoode.”

As if they had rehearsed, both detectives chuckled and sneered at the name. “If you have Ozgoode, you’re dead meat, Leeper,” Slater said.

“The worst,” Capshaw added.

“I like him,” Leeper said. “He seems a lot smarter than you boys.”

“You want to talk or swap insults?”

“I can do both.”

“Does your lawyer know you’re talking to us?” Slater asked.

“Yep.”

“So what do you want to talk about?”

“I’m worried about the girl. You clowns obviously can’t find her. I know where she is, and as the clock ticks her situation gets worse. She needs to be rescued.”

“You’re a real sweetheart, Leeper,” Slater said. “Snatch the girl, stash her somewhere, and now you want to help her.”

“I’m sure you have a deal for us,” Capshaw said.

“You got it. Here’s what I’ll do, and you guys better do it fast because there’s one frightened little girl out there. I’ll plead guilty to one count of breaking and entering; get two years in prison, with my time to run at the same time as that mess in California. I stay here and do my time. My lawyer says the paperwork can be done in a matter of hours. We sign the deal, the prosecutor and judge okay it, and you get the girl. Time is crucial here boys, so you’d better make a move.”

Slater and Capshaw exchanged a nervous look. Leeper had them. They suspected he was lying because they expected nothing else from him. But what if he wasn’t? What if they agreed to his deal and he led them to April?

Slater said, “It’s almost six p.m. on Friday afternoon, Leeper. All the judges and prosecutors have gone home.”

“Oh, I’ll bet you can find them. They’ll hustle up if there’s a chance of saving the girl.”

Another pause as they studied his bearded face. Why would he offer such a deal if he didn’t know where she was? Such a plea bargain would be thrown out the window if he couldn’t deliver. Plus, they had no other leads, no other suspects. Leeper had always been their man.

“I don’t mind having a chat with the prosecutor,” Slater said, giving in.

“If you’re lying, Leeper, we’ll ship you back to California come Monday,” Capshaw said.

“Is she still in town?” Slater asked.

“I’m not saying another word until I sign the deal,” Leeper said.

As Theo was leaving the courthouse after saving Pete the Parrot, he saw a text message from Ike, who wanted him to run by the office.

Because he got off to a slow start each day, Ike usually worked late, even on Fridays. Theo found him at his desk, piles of papers everywhere, a bottle of beer already opened, and Bob Dylan on the stereo.

“How’s my favorite nephew?” Ike said.

“I’m your only nephew,” Theo replied as he shook off his raincoat and sat in the only chair that wasn’t covered with files and binders.

“Yes, but Theo you’d be my favorite even if I had twenty.”

“If you say so.”

“How was your day?”

Theo had already learned that a large part of being a lawyer was relishing the victories, especially the ones involving courtroom battles. Lawyers love to tell stories about their weird clients and strange cases, but they thrive on their dramatic wins in court. So Theo launched into the saga of Pete, and before long Ike was roaring with laughter. Not surprisingly, Judge Yeck did not hang out with the more respected lawyers in town, and he and Ike occasionally bumped into one another at a certain bar where some of the misfits liked to drink. Ike thought it was hilarious that Yeck allowed Theo to handle cases like a real lawyer.

When the story was over, Ike changed subjects and said, “I still say the police should be checking out the girl’s father. From what I hear, they’re still concentrating on Jack Leeper, and I think that’s a mistake. Don’t you?”

“I don’t know, Ike. I don’t know what to think.”

Ike picked up a piece of paper. “His name is Thomas Finnemore, goes by Tom. His band calls itself Plunder and they’ve been on the road for a few weeks. Finnemore and four other clowns, most from around here. There’s no website. The lead singer is a former drug dealer I met years ago, and I managed to track down one of his current girlfriends. She wouldn’t say much, but she thinks they’re in the Raleigh, North Carolina, area doing cheap gigs in bars and fraternity houses. She did not act as though she missed her boyfriend that much. Anyway, that’s all I could find out.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“See if you can find Plunder.”

Theo shook his head in frustration. “Look, Ike, there’s no way April would take off with her father. I’ve tried to tell you. She doesn’t trust him, and she really dislikes him.”

“And she was scared, Theo. A very frightened little girl. You don’t know what she was thinking. Her mother had abandoned her. These people are nuts, right?”

“Right.”

“No one broke in the house, because her father has a key. He gets her and they take off, for how long no one knows.”

“Okay, but if she’s with her father, then she’s safe, right?”

“You tell me. You think she’s safe hanging around with Plunder? Not the best place for a thirteen-year-old girl.”

“So I find Plunder, and just hop on my bike and fly down to Raleigh, North Carolina.”

“We’ll worry about that later. You’re a whiz with a computer. Start searching, see what you can find.”

What a waste of time, Theo thought. He was suddenly tired. The week had been stressful and he’d slept little. The excitement of Animal Court had sapped whatever energy he had, and he just wanted to go home and crawl into bed.

“Thanks, Ike,” he said as he grabbed his raincoat.

“Don’t mention it.”

Late Friday night, Jack Leeper was once again handcuffed and led from his cell. The meeting took place in a room at the jail where lawyers met with their clients. Leeper’s lawyer, Kip Ozgoode, was there, along with Detectives Slater and Capshaw, and a young lady from the prosecutor’s office named Teresa Knox. Ms. Knox immediately took charge. She was all business and didn’t appreciate being called from home on a Friday night.

“There’s no deal, Mr. Leeper,” she began. “You’re in no position to make deals. You’re facing kidnapping charges, which means up to forty years in prison. If the girl is harmed, then more charges. If she’s dead, then your life is really over. The best thing for you is to tell us where she is so she won’t be harmed anymore and you won’t face additional charges.”

Leeper grinned at Ms. Knox but said nothing.

She continued, “This is assuming, of course, that you’re not playing games. I suspect that you are. So does the judge. So do the police.”

“Then all of you will be sorry,” Leeper said. “I’m giving you the chance to save her life. As for me, I’m sure I’ll die in prison.”

“Not necessarily,” Ms. Knox fired back. “You give us the girl, safe and sound, and we’ll recommend a twenty-year sentence on the kidnapping charge. You can serve your time here.”

“What about California?”

“We can’t control what they do in California.”

Leeper kept grinning, as if he was enjoying the moment. Finally, he said, “As you say, no deal.”