Casper walked between racks of clothes to the window, looked out.
Hanna stood by the car, watched Walger’s techs begin dusting the outside of the car. They paid particular attention to the door handles and trunk lid. “Clean,” a tech told her.
“Then pop the door,” Hanna told him, snapping on a pair of gloves. “There’s a envelop on the passenger’s seat and I want to know what’s inside.”
When the tech had the door open, she reached in, carefully picked up the white number ten envelop by its corner. It was an ordinary-looking envelope, with no exterior markings. Hanna held it by her gloved thumb and forefinger as she marched it into the store.
Walger, pushing his glasses up on his nose, trailed a step behind her.
Casper watched them enter the store. “Put it on here on the counter,” he directed.
“Yo, dude,” said the store manager, shaking his long, bleached hair out of his eyes. He struck a pose in his Tommy Bahamas’ outfit—tropical shirt featuring parrots worn tails out over beige linen slacks, woven sandals. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing.
This is a place of business.”
Casper looked around the store, didn’t see a customer. “Guess we’ll have to take your word for that.” He flashed his badge. “Unless you want to go downtown for obstructing justice, allow us to do our work.”
The sales guy gave his head a shake, sent his hair flying.
“Whatever,” he sneered before slouching away.
Hanna placed the envelop on the counter. “Who wants to do the honors?”
“You found it, you open it,” Walger offered.
She held out her hand. He put a scalpel in it, much the way a nurse would with a surgeon.
Hanna used the knife to slit open the envelop. Using the tips of her fingers, she slowly extracted a tri-fold sheet of paper.
“Open it,” Casper ordered.
Hanna carefully unfolded the first fold, then the second.
Casper on her left, Walger on her right, leaned forward to get a better look.
CHAPTER 19
“Congratulations. You found the car. To find Jens Beck alive, have Mercedes wire $50-million dollars to this numbered Cayman account: CAY345A-7477Y-3858CWT. When the money reaches the account, Beck will be released unharmed. To find Jens Beck dead, simply disregard these instructions. The choice is yours. Make it fast. There will be no more communications from us.”
“Jeez, Louise.” Walger said under his breath. “Fifty big ones.”
“Is that like a real ransom note?” A voice said from behind the three agents. All three turned at once.
The sales guy knew he’d stepped in it. “Not that it’s any of my business,” he said, hands up, backing away.
The agents returned to the ransom demand, all three scrutinizing it.
Casper took charge. “Hanna, see what you can find out about this numbered account.”
Hanna got a pen and paper from her shoulder bag, jotted down the number, double checked to make sure she’d copied it right.
Casper watched her. When she finished, he handed the note to Walger. “Milt, get this dusted for prints and in a plastic sleeve. Let’s get the car on a flatbed, take it to the shop where we can really go over it.” His gaze shifted back to Hanna. “Take my car back to the office, I’m going to go with Milt. Call me on my cell if you find out something about the account.” He started to go, stopped. “And contact Mercedes, get the ball rolling there.”
CHAPTER 20
Tommy Bahamas’ restaurant was located on the second floor above their clothing store. A small second-floor balcony offered outside seating and a perfect view of, among other things, the red Mercedes parked by the curb below. A man and a woman sat at one of the tables, shopping bags on the ground by their feet, drinks in front of them. Marike Silber, the blond woman who had called herself Joanne Perlman, had her shoes off, her feet up on the empty chair next to her. She was drinking a frozen Daiquiri. The man with the phone to his ear, Tom Ruhl, had a
Hanna stood by the car, watched Walger’s techs begin dusting the outside of the car. They paid particular attention to the door handles and trunk lid. “Clean,” a tech told her.
“Then pop the door,” Hanna told him, snapping on a pair of gloves. “There’s a envelop on the passenger’s seat and I want to know what’s inside.”
When the tech had the door open, she reached in, carefully picked up the white number ten envelop by its corner. It was an ordinary-looking envelope, with no exterior markings. Hanna held it by her gloved thumb and forefinger as she marched it into the store.
Walger, pushing his glasses up on his nose, trailed a step behind her.
Casper watched them enter the store. “Put it on here on the counter,” he directed.
“Yo, dude,” said the store manager, shaking his long, bleached hair out of his eyes. He struck a pose in his Tommy Bahamas’ outfit—tropical shirt featuring parrots worn tails out over beige linen slacks, woven sandals. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing.
This is a place of business.”
Casper looked around the store, didn’t see a customer. “Guess we’ll have to take your word for that.” He flashed his badge. “Unless you want to go downtown for obstructing justice, allow us to do our work.”
The sales guy gave his head a shake, sent his hair flying.
“Whatever,” he sneered before slouching away.
Hanna placed the envelop on the counter. “Who wants to do the honors?”
“You found it, you open it,” Walger offered.
She held out her hand. He put a scalpel in it, much the way a nurse would with a surgeon.
Hanna used the knife to slit open the envelop. Using the tips of her fingers, she slowly extracted a tri-fold sheet of paper.
“Open it,” Casper ordered.
Hanna carefully unfolded the first fold, then the second.
Casper on her left, Walger on her right, leaned forward to get a better look.
CHAPTER 19
“Congratulations. You found the car. To find Jens Beck alive, have Mercedes wire $50-million dollars to this numbered Cayman account: CAY345A-7477Y-3858CWT. When the money reaches the account, Beck will be released unharmed. To find Jens Beck dead, simply disregard these instructions. The choice is yours. Make it fast. There will be no more communications from us.”
“Jeez, Louise.” Walger said under his breath. “Fifty big ones.”
“Is that like a real ransom note?” A voice said from behind the three agents. All three turned at once.
The sales guy knew he’d stepped in it. “Not that it’s any of my business,” he said, hands up, backing away.
The agents returned to the ransom demand, all three scrutinizing it.
Casper took charge. “Hanna, see what you can find out about this numbered account.”
Hanna got a pen and paper from her shoulder bag, jotted down the number, double checked to make sure she’d copied it right.
Casper watched her. When she finished, he handed the note to Walger. “Milt, get this dusted for prints and in a plastic sleeve. Let’s get the car on a flatbed, take it to the shop where we can really go over it.” His gaze shifted back to Hanna. “Take my car back to the office, I’m going to go with Milt. Call me on my cell if you find out something about the account.” He started to go, stopped. “And contact Mercedes, get the ball rolling there.”
CHAPTER 20
Tommy Bahamas’ restaurant was located on the second floor above their clothing store. A small second-floor balcony offered outside seating and a perfect view of, among other things, the red Mercedes parked by the curb below. A man and a woman sat at one of the tables, shopping bags on the ground by their feet, drinks in front of them. Marike Silber, the blond woman who had called herself Joanne Perlman, had her shoes off, her feet up on the empty chair next to her. She was drinking a frozen Daiquiri. The man with the phone to his ear, Tom Ruhl, had a
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