Part 22

Every muscle in Tom's aching body was tensed. His heart leapt to his throat when George suddenly dropped into the chair. He was no longer gasping for air, but his breathing was still rapid. He forced himself to continue staring at his spot on the ceiling instead of looking at his captor. Silence hung heavily in the air for what seemed like an eternity to Tom. He couldn't help being startled when George finally began to speak.

"Well, Mr. 'Special One', you and I are going to make a phone call. I have decided that your father will be allowed one final visit before your execution. You will say exactly what I tell you to this time, or you-will-die. You will tell him only that you are well and you will see him soon. Period. Do you understand this? The instant you say one wrong word, you are dead. Are we clear?"

Tom briefly considered not responding, but changed his mind. If Harry came, he wouldn't be alone. Of this, Tom was certain. A tiny spark of hope flickered to life. Maybe he would get out of this alive yet. As a picture of Harry facing down the enraged captor came into his mind, hope quickly turned to fear. It was obvious how much George hated the captain. Tom suppressed the shudder that rose within him at the thought of what George would try do to Harry. He managed to keep his voice steady as he answered, "Yeah, crystal."

George was somewhat disappointed in the captive's cooperation. The urge for more taunting was impossible to resist. "What, no attitude pretty boy? One little kiss from the good Doc and all the sudden you turn into Mr. Model Prisoner. So tell me, was that your first time? Come on. Tell me how good it was. Tell me how much you enjoyed it."

Determined to keep George from seeing his rage at the remarks, he continued to stare at the peeling paint. His subconscious betrayed him when both hands curled into tight fists as George's words brought back the memory of the repugnant kiss. Tom couldn't force himself to answer even though he knew his failure to do so was likely to bring another physical attack.

George's reaction to Tom's silence came swiftly. A cry of pain escaped when cruel fingers dug into the spot where Tom's ribs were cracked. Despite the pain, the captive refused to speak. The fingers dug in deeper and he bit his lip to keep from crying out again. Tears welled in his eyes from the agony, but Tom was determined not to let George win.

George quickly decided that he was getting nowhere. He abruptly moved from the injured ribs to the infected shoulder. He rose from the chair to stand over Tom as he roughly ground the heel of his hand into the shoulder. "I said tell me how much you liked it when the Doc kissed you," he hissed.

Tom screamed as the pressure sent pain searing through his shoulders and down his back. Tom opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words would come. He pulled at the restraints wanting to shove the offending hand away, but the pressure continued.

George suddenly stopped pressing down on the shoulder and sank back into the chair. "Well, well. Who'd have ever thought? You liked it so much that words fail you. I can't wait to see your father's face when he finds out what his son's true sexual preference is." George looked down to check his watch. "We need to give Doc about 10 more minutes. Then we're going to call your old man. You better not forget what I said. You don't say anything other than you're fine and you'll see him soon. Not unless you want to die before he gets here."

Tom was still gasping for air and groaning from the pain when George finished speaking. He managed a nod of his head in understanding at George's instructions, not wanting to set off another attack. He turned his head to the wall and silently prayed for Harry to arrive quickly with the cavalry.

The next ten minutes felt more like ten years. Tom wouldn't allow his mind to focus on anything other than Harry and Cassy coming to his rescue. Finally, George spoke. "I'm gonna dial your father's number and you will speak first. Don't forget my warning." He reached into his pocket and brought out the knife. He made an exaggerated move to extend the blade, driving home the death threat. George then removed the cell phone from his shirt pocket and dialed the number. He waited for the captain's voice to come on the other end before putting the phone to Tom's ear.

Tom's voice was weak and unsteady as he spoke. "Harry. It's me."

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Harry couldn't help but shake his head at the irony of it. He sat staring at the employment records of the janitor who had been on duty every time one of the mystery envelopes had been delivered. He didn't bother to look up to see Cassy approach his door; he knew that as soon as the head of maintenance left she would make a beeline for his office. Before her hand could touch the glass to knock he called out, "What have you got on the photo supply houses, St. John?"

Cassy entered and sat down before answering. "We've narrowed the list to exclude the places that will only sell to professional studios. Pearson and Vogel are splitting the first 10 between them. They should be reporting in any time now." She paused, waiting for Harry to fill her in on the janitor's identity.

Harry finally looked up from his file. "Good. Let me know the minute they check in. Now, I suppose you want to know about the janitor." He waited for her anxious nod before continuing. "You aren't going to believe this one. I can't believe it myself, though I should have known he'd pull something like this." Harry again shook his head in disgust.

Cassy couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "What! What did he pull? Tell me what you found out."

Harry looked up and let his eyes meet hers. "The janitor who was working each time an envelope showed up was none other than Joe Keller. He was hired roughly six months ago." He waited to allow the name to sink in.

Cassy's eyes grew wide as recognition dawned. "Stein used his old partner's name. You're telling me that Stein has been here, in this building, watching our every move for six months! How the hell could he have been here without our knowing?" Harry handed her the file, complete with photo ID.

Harry reached to take the file back. "Gray hair, a mustache, a beard, and some extra padding and George Stein transforms into Joe Keller, janitor. For the first 3 months he was here, he worked the night shift. He had access to nearly all areas of the building with very little supervision and few officers around to interfere with..."

The sound of the phone ringing interrupted Harry. He mechanically grabbed the receiver and answered, "Lipschitz." He could hear someone breathing, then silence. Finally, a weak voice came through.

"Harry. It's me."

Harry's face turned ghostly white as he furiously scribbled on his note pad and held it up for Cassy. She could barely read the word "Trace." Cassy flew into the squad room to the nearest phone and started the process of tracing the call. Harry had made sure they were prepared for this possibility after Stein's first call.

Harry spoke before he finished writing the order. "It's good to hear your voice again, Tom. You holding up okay?" Harry assumed Stein would be listening in, so he decided to take an easy approach. Tom's painful cry from the first call echoed in his mind.

Tom's voice was steadier, though still weak when he answered. "I'm doing just fine, Harry. I'm okay. I'll see you soon. I have to go now."

The same voice from the first call immediately came on the line. "I guess you prayed hard enough. If you want to see your son one last time, be at the Coconut Grove Bar and Grill in 30 minutes. Wait there until someone contacts you. I shouldn't have to tell you this, but I don't want any misunderstandings. Come alone. You are being watched. If there is any sign of backup your son dies, immediately and very painfully. Do you understand?"

Harry looked furtively out to Cassy as he answered. She helplessly shrugged and shook her head no. "Yeah, I got it. Coconut Grove Bar and Grill in 30 minutes."

"ALONE!" The voice on the other end of the line was shouting. "Any hint of company or backup and he's DEAD! You got that, Lipschitz?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I got it. Come alone. Any sign of backup and Tom dies." Every muscle in Harry's body trembled as he said the words.

"Good. We'll be here waiting for your arrival. And by the way, you won't get the trace on the call. I told you that before. Thirty minutes, Lipschitz. The clock is ticking."

End Part 22

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