“I don’t know.”
“Sure you do, Edna. Because they weren’t coincidences. None of them. You arranged them all. The two girls using the same ATM? Only one reason for that. The kidnapper—you, Edna—wanted to hook Aimee’s disappearance with Katie Rochester’s.”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“Because the police were sure that Katie Rochester had run away—in part because of what you saw in the city. But Aimee Biel was different. She didn’t have a Mob-connected, abusive daddy, for example. Her disappearance would cause commotion. The best way—the only way—to keep that heat from coming down was to make Aimee look like a runaway too.”
For a moment they both just stood there. Then Edna Skylar shifted to the right as if preparing to pass him. Myron shifted with her, blocking the path. She looked up at him.
“Are you wearing a wire, Myron?”
He raised his arms. “Frisk me.”
“No need. This is all nonsense anyway.”
“Let’s go back to that day on the street. You and Stanley are walking in Manhattan. Fate lends a hand here. You see Katie Rochester, just like you told the police. You realize that she’s not missing or in serious trouble. She’s a runaway. Katie begs you not to tell. And you listen. For three weeks, you say nothing. You go back to your regular life.” Myron studied her face. “You with me so far?”
“I’m with you.”
“So why the change? Why after three weeks do you suddenly call your old buddy Ed Steinberg?”
She folded her arms. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“Because your situation changed, not Katie’s.”
“How?”
“You talked about your son being trouble from day one. That you’d given up on him.”
“That’s right.”
“Maybe you did, I don’t know. But you were in touch with Drew. At least somewhat. You knew that Drew fell in love with Aimee Biel. He told you about it. He probably told you that she was pregnant.”
She crossed her arms. “You can prove that?’
“No. That part is speculation. The rest isn’t. You looked up Aimee’s medical files on the computer. That we know. You saw that yes, she was indeed pregnant. But more than that, you saw that she was going to terminate it. Drew didn’t know about that. He thought that they were in love and going to get married. But Aimee just wanted out. Drew Van Dyne had been nothing but a foolish, albeit not uncommon, high school mistake. Aimee was on her way to college now.”
“Sounds like motive for Drew to kidnap her,” Edna Skylar said.
“It does, doesn’t it? If that had been all. But again I kept wondering about all the coincidences. The ATM machine again. Who knew about it? You called your old buddy Ed Steinberg and pumped him for info on the case. He talked. Why not? Nothing was confidential. There wasn’t really even a case. When he mentioned the Citibank ATM, you realized that would be the clincher. Everyone would assume Aimee was a runaway too. And that’s exactly what happened. Then you called Aimee. You said you were from the hospital, which was true enough. You told her what she had to do to terminate the pregnancy in secret. You set up that meeting in New York. She’s waiting at the corner. You drive by. You tell her to pick up some cash at the machine. Your clincher. Aimee does as she’s told. And then she panics. She wants to think it through now. There you are, waiting to grab her, a syringe in your hand, and all of a sudden she runs off. She calls me. I get there. I drive her to Ridgewood. You follow—it was your car I saw that night follow us into the cul-de-sac. When she gets rejected by Harry Davis, you’re waiting. Aimee doesn’t remember much after that. She claims she was drugged. That fits—her memory would be fuzzy. Propofol would cause a lot of the symptoms. You’re familiar with that drug, aren’t you, Edna?”
“Of course I am. I’m a doctor. It’s an anesthetic.”
“You’ve used it in your practice?”
She hesitated. “I have.”
“And that will be your downfall.”
“Really? How’s that.”
“I have other evidence, but it’s mostly circumstantial. Those medical records, for one. They show you not only viewed Aimee’s medical records earlier than you indicated, but you didn’t even bring them up again when I called. Why would you? You already knew she was pregnant. I’ll also have phone records. Your son called you, you called your son.”
“So?”
“Right, so. And I can even show how you called the school and spoke to your son right after I left you the first time. Harry Davis wondered how Drew knew something was up before he confronted him. That’s how. You called and warned him. And you remember the call you made to Claire, the one from that pay phone near Twenty-third Street . . . first off, that was overkill. It was nice of you, trying to comfort the parents a little. But see, why would Aimee call from there—right where Katie Rochester had been spotted? She wouldn’t know about that. Only you would. And we already checked your E-ZPass records. You went into Manhattan. Took the Lincoln Tunnel twenty minutes before the call was made.”
“Hardly rock-solid,” Edna said.
“No, probably not. But here’s where you’re going down. The Propofol. You can write prescriptions, sure, but you also had to order it. The police at my behest already checked with your office. You did purchase plenty of Propofol, but no one can explain where it went. Aimee was given a blood test. The stuff was still in her bloodstream. You see?”
Edna Skylar took a deep breath, held it, let it loose. “Do you have a motive for this purported kidnapping, Myron?”
“Are we really going to play this game?”
She shrugged. “We’ve played it this far.”
“Fine, okay. The motive. That was the problem for everyone. Why would anyone kidnap Aimee? We all thought that someone wanted to keep her quiet. Your son could lose his job. Jake Wolf’s son could lose everything. Harry Davis, well, he had a ton to lose too. But abducting her wouldn’t help. There was also no ransom demand, no sexual assault, nothing like that. So I kept asking myself. Why would someone kidnap a young woman?”
“And?”
“You talked about the innocent.”
“Right.” There was resignation in her smile now. Edna Skylar knew what was coming next, Myron thought, but she won’t move out of the way.