The chief nodded at a detective sitting halfway around the table, who said, “I’m expecting a list any minute.”
“I guess that’s going to be the best lead for now.”
“What else?” Mallon asked.
“Put out a plea to the media, along with the boy’s photo.”
“That’s been done, Kate. And we have the parents doing interviews, trying to personalize the boy for whoever took him,” Mallon said. “Isn’t there anything else we can do?”
“Sometimes you just have to give the public some time to respond. There’s a chance somebody knows who did this.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to sit and wait. There must be something we can do to be more proactive. What would you do if it were a Bureau case?”
She hesitated a moment, glancing back at Vail. “Tim, I’m sorry. I’ve never worked kidnappings, but I can make some calls and see if we can get someone out here from the Washington Field Office.”
Mallon looked confused. “Kate, I spent twenty years at WFO. If I thought someone there had the answer, I wouldn’t have called you.” He looked around the men at the table, hoping someone would offer an idea of what to do next.
Kate said, “I misjudged what you needed, Tim.” Then she got up and, with an apologetic grin to him, handed Vail the photo and the BOLO. “How about it, Steve? Can you give them a hand?”
Somewhat surprised, the chief said, “I’m sorry, Steve, are you with the Bureau?”
“Actually, I’m a bricklayer. From Chicago.” He handed the items back to Kate. “In fact, I’m on my way back there now.”
Mallon shot a confused look at Kate. “Steve’s a former agent who has helped us in the past. Take my word, right now you want him in the room.”
“Sorry, Steve,” Mallon said. “You’re both dressed up. I thought you were just Kate’s date.”
Vail smiled disarmingly. “Funny how easy it is to make that assumption.”
Sensing some rift between the two of them, the chief said, “Steve, if you can help, we’d be grateful. This is a seven-year-old boy’s life we’re talking about.”
Vail pushed himself off the wall with obvious reluctance, his eyes locked onto Kate’s, purposely without emotion. “Sure.” Vail looked around the table. “Any of you ever work a child kidnapping by a stranger before?” One older uniformed officer raised his hand unconvincingly. Vail took a moment to consider something. “Chief, I’d recontact all the media outlets and have them put out a plea for help from anyone at the race. It being a kids’ run, a lot of people are going to be taking pictures with both their cameras and their cell phones. Ask everyone to immediately e-mail all their photos to the station. Every one of them, whether they think they’re connected or not.” Kate watched as Vail became silent, lost in some other thought. “I assume that race officials also took photos. Have them do the same, including those from the adult race. Have you gotten a list of runners from them?”
The chief pointed at one of the detectives, who said, “They’re supposed to be forwarding it.”
“You’ll want that right now. Also from the kids’ race,” Vail said. “That it’s a holiday and twice as hard for the police to get anything done may not be a coincidence. Whoever’s responsible for this may have learned by past mistakes. As in convicted child molester. Which, as Kate suggested, makes the sex-offenders list a top priority.”
“What else?” Mallon asked.
Vail stepped forward to better engage the men around the table. “I know everybody is trying to think positive, but after this amount of time, statistically, there’s only a slightly better-than-even chance that the boy is still alive. Not a pleasant thought, but you’re police officers—you’re paid to approach things from a clinical and, maybe more important, a cynical perspective. There’s also a fifty-percent chance the boy’s been sexually assaulted. And the longer this goes, the worse those odds become. So if cars are stopped or your instinct tells you to search someplace, don’t get it in your mind that you’re going to hear the victim pounding on doors or walls to be freed. Assume you’re looking for a body. And remember, in a situation like this—I’m sorry, Chief—it’s better to do something that’s wrong than it is to do nothing at all. If someone won’t allow you access, politely search anyway. Just remember: Be polite and explain the situation. Whoever took the boy is one of the few people who won’t cooperate in an instance like this.”
Mallon stood up and addressed his officers. “Don’t any of you worry about liability. Like Steve said, explain, be polite, and then do what you have to do. All the heat is on me.” To Kate and Vail, he said, “We’ve already got more than thirty tips. The media has been running the story every half hour. Each time they do, we get more. We’re going to start chasing them down.” He turned back to the officers and detectives around the table. “Any questions?” There were none. “Okay, I’ll be here. If you run into anyone who’s reluctant to help, and there’s time, call me and I’ll make the decision.” The officers got up and started filing out. “Kate, you can use my office to make those calls.”
“Okay.”
“Steve, can I ask you to give us a hand with the tips? Sounds like you know what to look for. Maybe you’ll see something we’re missing.”
“If I can get one of your people to run me to the airport when we’re through. Kate’s already late for something she needs to get to.”
“Sure.” Mallon glanced at her. “Kate, if you need to go, I’ll understand.”
Kate could tell that Vail hadn’t said it maliciously. “It’s nothing that can’t wait, Tim. And if I don’t make it, it’s not a big deal. I’m here because we’re friends. I’ll stay until you don’t need me any longer.”
Vail said, “Chief, if you have a desk somewhere with a computer, I’ll start on those tips. And a map of the area if you have one.”
“Great. And I’ll make sure you get copies of anything new that comes in.”
Kate said, “Tim, could you give us a minute?”
“Sure.” Mallon walked out and shut the door.
She put her hand on his arm. “I appreciate your keeping me from looking like a fool.”
“No use both of us feeling that way.”
She started to say something, and he placed his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Bannon.” He leaned forward and whispered in her ear. “I really do hate New Year’s Eve parties.”
He turned to go, and she said, “And don’t think you can sneak out of here without saying good-bye.”
Vail gave her a silent but formal salute.
While Kate started making phone calls, trying to track down agents from the Behavioral Science Unit and the Washington Field Office, the chief led Vail to a detective’s desk and showed him how to access the department’s different databases. He settled in and started reading the tips.
Unlike the officers and detectives, Vail had the luxury of looking at them from a different perspective. The Reston Police Department had to investigate all the tips offered. Vail didn’t. So he was able to start making judgments about the callers and the individuals they were reporting on.
He checked each suspect’s name in the computer to see if there were any previous contacts with the department. He also checked the callers’ names—if they gave one—to see if they were chronic complaint makers, which could lessen the priority of their information. After reading all the tips, he hadn’t found any he considered worthwhile. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Tips were a double-edged