Disclaimer, see Chapter 1
Club Aragon, New York City
November 21, 2.15 p.m.
The search through the remnants of Diane Durkin's apartment had been a dreary task dragging on through the entire morning. Anything was a welcome change now. The search had not revealed anything new. They had found a matchbook from a cheap downtown night club. That was where Samantha and Danny were right now, looking for someone to answer their questions.
Now that it was daytime the empty dance-floor seemed strangely out of place. The club was not fancy. Dance-floor and bar, no elaborate decoration. Now, that there were no patrons, it appeared almost abandoned. Only the lingering smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke indicated that the floor would be crowded in twelve hours time. An employee cleaning the floor had pointed them to a man behind the bar when they had asked to see the manager. Danny and Samantha identified themselves.
"Are you the manager of this club?" Danny asked the young man behind the bar counter.
"I'm Will Wright, the Assistant manager. The old man never shows his face around here. What do you want?"
"We need to talk to a few of your employees. We need to know whether any of them have seen this woman before." Danny handed him a photograph of Diane. Will studied the picture than handed it back with a shrug.
"I don't recognize her. But I'm not here very often. But feel free to go around and ask. We know our regulars."
The first two employees couldn't tell them anything, but then they got luck. Two woman and the bouncer recalled having seen Diane Durkin.
Mercy Hospital, New York City
November 21, 2.30 p.m.
Vivian had just talked to the doctor in charge of treating Diane Durkin's son. Her mood had hit a dangerous low. The doctor had confirmed what Dr. Sommer had already suspected at the scene. The children had evidently been neglected, most probably looked inside the apartment for days. She was studying the map on the wall to find her way to the nearest stairwell, when martin came around the corner. He had been supposed to met her at the hospital half an hour ago. When he had not shown up, she had gone ahead on her own.
"Sorry, I'm late. I got stuck in traffic." he apologized.
"It's okay."
After getting lost twice in the maze of grey, anonymous corridors, they had finally found the right room. They knocked but got no answer, so they entered.
Mrs Durkin, a woman of maybe fifty-five years, had been crying. Now she was sitting at the bedside of her grandson like a statue. She didn't react when they entered the room.
"Mrs Ellen Durkin, we're with the FBI. We need to talk to you about your daughter Diane." It was only by the mention of Diane's name that she even turned to acknowledge their presence.
"Do you know where she is?"
"No, but we're trying to find out what happened. Why don't why sit down over there. Vivian stirred her towards the seating area."
"Something must have happened to her, she would never have left her children alone. She had many problems, but she wouldn't. They were the one thing she cares about. It's going to kill her."
"We're not sure whether your daughter left on her own will. Did she ever leave her kids alone for an evening?"
"Yes. Occasionally. She couldn't afford a baby-sitter. But she always came back before the next morning. She told me that."
"You knew that she was leaving her children alone?" Vivian sounded downright aggressive.
"What could I do? It has hard for her being alone with the kids all day. I kept telling her that she needed to go out more. She didn't have any friends."
Vivian shot Martin a look. Martin wasn't sure how to react. He was trying hard not to let the case get to him and Vivian wasn't helping his efforts.
"When was the last time you saw Diane?"
"About two weeks ago?"
"She came by the house with the kids. She stayed for lunch, we took them to the playground." She sobbed.
"How did she seem? Depressed, scared? Did anyone threaten her?"
"No, no, she was happy. She said she'd finally found work."
"What was she doing?"
"She's a cashier at some drug store. I was so happy for her. She was finally doing better. She wouldn't walk away from that now, she's been working so hard for this." Vivian shot Martin a look. Diane Durkin has certainly not been working as a cashier. She had been in a far more profitable business.
When you didn't hear from her in two weeks didn't you worry?
"I called her, but her phone had been disconnected again. She sometimes forgets to pay the bills." Ellen shrugged.
"And you didn't drive over, to make sure she was okay?" Vivian's tone made the accusation obvious.
"No. I wish I would have. But my husband said we should interfere less with her and she was doing fine. How could we know that something was wrong?" Ellen was either genuinely surprised or was acting her part very well. Martin wasn't sure what to think of her. Vivian on the other hand had made up her mind.She shook her head and turned away. Martin decided to change the topic seeing as they were getting no where.
"Does Diane have any friends. Maybe a boyfriend?"
"No, she wanted to get her life back together again, she said. That was when she came over two weeks ago. I believed her. She was so much better looking. No longer those clothes she used to wear. She had all nice and new things. I was proud of her. She had really changed."
"Do you know whether she still have any contact with her ex-husband?"
"No, she wouldn't. Not after what he's done to her. It took her so long to get away from him. When did you last see him?"
"I don't know. He didn't want to her to come and see us when they were still together. I only met him once or twice. He was not good for her and my husband didn't tolerate him in our house."
FBI Missing Persons Unit, Conference room, New York City
November 21, 4 p.m.
Vivian was explaining what she had learned at the hospital this morning.
"The doctors are pretty sure that the boy, Ron Durkin, will make it. It will be some time until he can talk to us, if he can tell us anything at all. According to the medical report, he was suffering from acute smoke inhalation when he was admitting during the night. But he was severely dehydrated and mal-nourished as well. He probably hasn't eaten for days. There were no signs of physical or sexual abuse other than that. "
"Yes, the preliminary autopsied reports on the other two children. Both were dead before the fire. The estimate is around three days before the fire. None of them had injuries. Probable cause of death is dehydration. But the tox screen is still pending, so poison can't be ruled out. We'll get the report tomorrow morning."
The was a grim silence. No child should have to suffer like that. They were either faced with an incredible tragedy or with terrible neglect and abuse.
"Here is what we have. Going by the phone records and what neighbours have told us and the police, we have a rough idea of what might have happened the day Diane disappeared."
"That's good. The sooner we get the timeline, the sooner we can focus our search. Let's hear what you have." Jack said.
"On November 14 at 7.15 p.m. Diane ordered a cab to her apartment. We have the phone records and the Taxi company gave us the name of the driver, NYPD is going to bring him in. Neighbours saw her get into the cab, she was dressed to go out. That was around 8 p.m. that night. Around 8.30 p.m., she got to the club Aragon. The bouncer and several employees confirmed that she is a regular, coming at least three time per week. She always arrive alone, but leaves usually in company. Not with the same guy, but we got descriptions of two men, she met on a regular basis. On the night in question, she was seen drinking and arguing with one of them. The description closely fits her ex-husband Tom Dyson. We haven't found him yet, but there is an APB out for him already because of several drugs related charges. Both of them were drinking and arguing until about 11 p.m. when they left together. They seemed to have set aside their differences as the waitress described it. That was the last time anyone has seen her. We haven't found any witnesses that saw her in the parking lot or elsewhere later that night. We don't know whether she really met with her ex-husband, but whoever she met at that club is our first suspect." Samantha explained.
"I pulled the record on Tom Dyson. He has no known address and might be homeless. He has last been picked up by the police about 3 month ago during a drug bust. He failed to appear for his court date last week." Martin read from his notes.
"Does he have a car?" Danny asked.
"No."
"So suppose he did kill her after leaving the club. Then how did he do it? We would have found evidence in the parking lot, And even if he didn't do it somewhere else, then he'd sill have to get rid of the body which is difficult without a car." Vivian laid out a theory.
"He has no credit cards. But although he has no driver's licence, he has been picked up for driving stolen cars twice during the eighties. No conviction ever came of it. The police could not prove that it was him who actually stole the cars. "All he got was a fine. But at least, it means that he could not have rented a car. He must have left the club some other way. Innocent or not, he must have gotten away somehow. It is a forty minute walk to the next bus station, so it's not too likely that he actually walked. But he could still have been picked up by a friend or accomplice."
"If he his innocent thane someone must have picked Diana up after she left the club."
"There is a payphone near the parking lot. Maybe we ran a trace on all calls places around 11 p.m, that night. Maybe she called a cab or a friend that we don't know of It's along shit but maybe a familiar names pop up."
"I'm on it." Vivian said.
"It's Friday. Danny and Sam, you go back to the cub and mingle a bit tonight. We still haven't found out where she got all that cash. If there are drugs and prostitution going on I want you to find out."
"How Danny gets the fun stuff?" Martin asked in mock indignation.
"You can check with vice. It looks like Diane might have been soliciting for prostitution at the club. That would explain the different men she has been seen with and the money in her apartment. We shouldn't narrow our focus on the ex-husband just yet. She could have met with a client either at the club or later that night. After your done at vice, check out other tax companies in town, maybe she took another can somewhere that night. If there is a crime scene, then we need to find out where it is."
"For the moment we don't even know whether there has been a crime, Vivian said. And the apartment tells a different story. It doesn't look like she had just left for a night on the town."
"Why, what else did you find? Samantha asked, as she could not recall having seen anything inside that would have indicated premeditated departure."
"The phone was deliberately unplugged, the door was locked from the outside, there was no key inside, Diane's wallet and purse are gone."
"It could be either way. She probably wanted to make sure that her kids didn't use the phone while she was gone. I had a look at her phone records. It sees like she wasn't too interested in paying the bills. Her access was cut off three time in the last six months because she failed to keep up the payments. The last outgoing phone call was made ten days ago to her parents in Queens. She called them pretty regularly, three or four times per week. Hardly any other calls in the last six months. She called the building manager once, and there were several calls to a cell phone. The last was the day she was seen last.
If she has parents' why didn't they notice that she was gone. After all they seemed to be pretty close to each other. Sam pointed out.
"We need to find out. We need to get both of them here. Maybe that will be enough to get them to tell us the truth. I'm sure they know more than they let on about their daughter's life."
"What about the kids father? He would be a suspect."
"We don't know. He isn't on the birth certificate. From what she found in her apartment, it doesn't look like she was living with a man. NYPD is still talking to the tenants, but I doubt they'll find anything. Of no one noticed that three children were looked up alone in in apartment for eight days, I doubt anyone would have noticed her. Last year, Lydia was picked up by police wandering around Central park. Her blood tests came back negative for drugs. Social services investigated her for child neglect, and she was ordered to go to family therapy. No mention of the children's father in the file. It doesn't seem like he had any dealings with them."
"We've got the address of her therapist. Danny and I will talk to him. It's too early to go back to the club anyways."
"I doubt he'll tell us anything. Doctor patient privilege, the usual story." Danny voiced concern.
"It's worth a try", Jack looked around the table.
"Samantha, in the mean time, dig deeper into Diane's background. Everything, previous residence, credit history. Check out her old drug buddies."
"Sure." Samantha was disappointed. It was her first day back and she was already confidence to the desk again.
Social Services New York City Office, New York City
November 21, 5 p.m.
"Here you go Diane Durkin's file". The clerk handed him the file, after having rummage though filing cabinets for a good fifteen minutes. Jack was tired and irritated but was working hard not to show it. The impossibility the get a feeling for what he was dealing with was getting to him. Had Diane fallen victim to a client when she had been selling herself to support her family and her children had just been victims of the tragedy? Had a several depressed and disturbed woman simply abandoned her family because she couldn't handle it anymore? Had a fun loving young mother whose children were in the way simply left with a nigh-stand acquaintance? All the clues they had found failed to clearly indicate any of those possibilities and every witness painted a completely different picture of Diane. It seemed like no one had know her, not even her mother with whom she had had the most contact.
Maybe the social services file would give them a more objective look at the case. It was a lot of material that was for sure. The file was almost an inch thick. Apparently Diane had been regular at social services. But it seemed also apparent they hadn't been able to help her much in the end.
"Did you deal with her personally?" Jack asked the clerk.
"No, that would be her social worker. Trish Collins. I just handle the files."
"Where you can find Trish Collins?" Jack patience was wearing thin.
"Down the corridor to your left. She should be in right now."
"Thank you. "
Indeed Trish Collins was in.
"Mrs Collins?" Danny asked the woman sitting behind the desk in the small office cluttered with files and piles of paper.
"Yes. What can I do for you?" She seemed quite surprised by their appearance, certainly they did not look her usual clientele.
They showed her their badges.
"I'm Agent Malone, this is Agent Fitzgerald. We're here to investigate the disappearance of a woman you worked with, Diane Durkin." Jack explained their presence.
"Ahh. I see, But I'm sorry that I cannot discuss details of my sessions with Ms Durkin."
Jack silently handed her the court order to access to Diane Durkin's records.
"Oh. Very well. What do you want to know?" She didn't show any upset about being forced to cooperate with the authorities. In fact, if anything, she sounded relived.
"Anything you can tell us. We're trying to get an impression of Ms Durkin's situation and personality."
"I've worked with her on and off over the last six years. She's one of my regulars here. I first was assigned to her case when she was pregnant with her first child six years ago. As I recall her parents had taken her to social services because they suspected she was taking drugs. I recall that they were rather alarmist, If I recall correctly. I was working a drug prevention programme at the time. She joined our support group for a few weeks but dropped out when she was twenty-one after about a month. There was no way to force her to attend as she has never been convicted of any drug offence." she gave a sad smile.
"Her father turned her in to the police after a while, because she was continuing to use drugs during her pregnancy. It was her first offence, she went into rehab and seemingly recovered. She has been picked up a couple of times for drugs offences and prostitution over the last few years. She took a downward turn when she got married soon after having her first child. She moved out of her parents' house and started drifting. She was starting to neglect herself and got more into drugs. I didn't see her again for quite a while. What has happened to her now?" the concern in her voice was genuine.
"There has been a fire in her apartment, she's disappeared. We believe that she's abandoned her children at home over a week before the fire."
"Oh my God. I never thought it would come to that."
"Come to what?"
"She's been depressed, overwhelmed, the last time I saw her. She felt like she couldn't cope with three kids on her own. Her parents' tried to help but she wouldn't let them. Classic case. She didn't want to see that she couldn't handle out. But I never thought she would ever leave her children. I had the impression that they were who prevented her from giving up completely."
"You knew she was suicidal and did nothing?"
You have any idea how difficult it is to get an adult committed against their will. She never made a suicide attempts. She was hospitalised twice with a drug overdose, but those were noted as regular ODs. She shrugged.
"But they weren't?"
"I don't think so. She was depressed and overworked. She could hardly take care of herself, let alone of her children. She felt trapped in her marriage, but unable to get out because she depended on her husband for drugs. Eventually she worked up the courage to report him. He went to jail and she seemed to improve. That's always why the court ruled in her favour when her parent's challenged her for custody of her children. She lost custody of her children sometime last year, but got it back after undergoing drug therapy. There were no grounds on which to challenge to courts ruling,"
"How had custody of her children while she was in therapy?"
Her parents took care of them. They even wanted to get permanent custody of them, but they lost in court."
"When was that?"
"May last year." She looked it up on her screen.
"Anything since then?"
"No. She didn't have any contact with us after that. She suddenly stopped coming to the support groups. But she seemed much better the last few times I saw her. She seemed clean, she was taking care of herself."
"Did she ever mention a new lover maybe? Or anything to explain it?"
"No. I did ask her, but she just said that things were going fine at the moment. She really seemed up and happy. Are you sure that she's just left her children?" Trish Collins was upset, it was clear that over the years, on some level she had bonded with Diane Durkin.
"We don't know yet. Did she have a job?" Danny asked.
"No, nothing steady." Trish Collins paused, looking at Danny and Jack. "Agent Malone. It's not our fault. There is only so much we can do, if people don't want to accept help then there is no way of stopping them. I hope you find Diane."
FBI Missing Persons Unit, New York City
November 21, 3.20 p.m.
"Hey Samantha. I think I've got something there." Martin called out to Samantha. There was another interesting call. At 11.50 p.m. the night that Diane disappeared, someone called 911 from the payphone in the parking lot. I request the transcript. It wasn't Diane, but someone reported that his car had been stolen from the club Aragon parking lot between 10 p.m. and 11.30 p.m."
"Okay, but what does that have to do with the case?" Samantha didn't see any connection to the missing woman.
"Her ex-husband whom we know had a fight with her, has a prior record fro car theft and we have established that he would need to have a car to get away. So what if he is the car thief."
"That is a little far fetched, don't you think? Maybe he just left the same way he got to the club in the first place. Besides, there are plenty of people around the city how know how to steal a car."
"But they wouldn't steal this car. It's a VW van, made 1990. No pro would grab it and it's nowhere near fast enough for a joyride."
"I see. Maybe we should look into it."
"Already took care of it. NYPD will notify us when anything new comes up in the case. How are you getting on?"
"I'm getting nowhere." Samantha sighed. "We gave out word to the news, they are running Diane's picture now. But so far no hits. Other than that, nothing. For the last year, she hardly seems to have existed. Still I can't believe that nobody missed her when she was gone for an entire week. I mean the people living on her floor must have known that she has children, why did nobody wonder when they suddenly weren't around anymore? That's what I don't get."
FBI New York Office, New York City
November 21, 9.45 p.m.
It was always hard to out aside the work for the day, especially when they had made little progress. They had spent most of the day cutting through red tape and reading their way through court records and social service files. Necessary work, but it had not really gotten them closer to unravelling the mystery. They were still in the dark as to what kind of situation they were dealing with. Normally, he developed a feeling for it, but this time, it wasn't that easy. Everyone had painted a different picture of Diane: a drug addict, a struggling single mom, a disturbed, depressed woman, an irresponsible young woman you preferred going clubbing to looking after her children. Who was Diane Dyson really? To him as a father to concept of abandoning one's own children like that seemed preposterous, but his work had taught him that there was no limit to the cruelties that people would inflict on one another. One of the worst kinds of cruelties could be difference. In this case indifference had killed two children. What would have been going on in the mind of a mother who did something like that? Drugs, the dark despair of mental illness, or foul play. Maybe she had intended to come back home that night, but had met someone who had changed her plans.
He reminded himself that he was now off work. Time to leave the case behind in the office building. He had just turned his thoughts toward the upcoming evening when his eye caught a white object under his Upon closer inspection he saw that it was a folded piece of white paper. He come closer, immediately on alert. His hand reached for his gun without him even thinking about it. This was a secure parking garage. He instinctively looked around, but he couldn't see anyone. He pulled out handkerchief to pick up the folded piece of paper. He unfolded it.
*Be careful where you're going. You don't want to put your agents in danger.*
That was all. Printed in black ink. Assuming that this was related to their current case and he couldn't see any other possibility, there must be something they were missing. No one had seemingly cared about Diane being missing, but still they must have stepped on someone's toes enough to provoke such a reaction, The threat was generic and blank, but the fact that someone had gotten into the parking garage to put it there did something to accredit the source danger. He turned, taking the letter back up the stairs to the forensic lab. He doubted that there would be anything on the letter, but it was worth a shot.
Parking lot of Club Aragon, New York City
November 22, 1.30 a.m.
The fresh air was a relief. It was cold, but at least she had finally gotten away from the overcrowded room. They had spend almost three hours at the club and had still failed top produce any kind of result that would advance their investigation.
"Nothing. This morning she told us that Diane was at the club every week, today nobody wants to have ever seen her. I'm telling you, somebody wants us off this club." Samantha complained, venting her frustration about the wasted night.
"Or, if it's not a conspiracy to take over America, maybe the owner just wants to keep himself out of the headlines. The club has been in rouble before for drugs and admitting underage patrons. Besides, from the revenue records, it's obvious that business has been slumping lately. He probably told his employees to say nothing. Besides we already have the boyfriend admitting to leaving the bar with her." Danny grinned as they walked towards their car. "If it was the boyfriend, we can't prove anything. No testimony, no evidence, no witnesses." There was frustration in his voice. Samantha shared the sentiment. What had looked like their most promising lead in a fairly cold case, had turned into a disappointment. Suddenly she noticed that Danny had stopped. He was standing a few meter behind her and was looking round the dark parking lot, as if he was searching for something. He noticed that she was about to call out to him when he jogged over to the car.
"Everything all right?"
"Yeah."
Samantha had the impression that this wasn't exactly true, Danny must have thought he'd seen something, but she quickly forgot the idea when she got into to car. She started the engine and pulled out to the lot unto the street. Traffic was still busy, although most people were either at home or still out clubbing. Danny kept looking into the rear-view mirror. As they stopped at a traffic light, she decided the ask him:
" Something wrong. You keep checking out the other cars?"
"I think the black van there is following us. It pulled into the club parking lot just after us. When we walked back to the car, I think I saw a guy sitting in the car. Then they left right after us and have been behind us ever since."
"Did you get a look at the licence plate?"
"Yes. I'll check it out tomorrow at the office just to be on the safe side. It might be nothing, but if someone is tailing us, I want to know who it is and why they are doing it."
~~~
Samantha was walking back home after having parked her car in a garage a few blocks away from her apartment building. The pavement was wet, the lights from passing cars reflected eerily off it. It wasn't raining, but the smell still hung in the air. It was unseasonably warm considering that it was already night and it was late November. It had been a long day, dragging from seven in the morning to way past midnight. The case had left little room for reflection. In the crucial early phase of a case, when there was still every possibility open, it was important to act fast. Objectively viewed, it had gone quite well. Even though the case was already a week old, they had quickly established a timeline. At least the believed that they had. They were still lacking any evidence to support their theory. And their second visit to the club had only created more confusion. The sudden denial of the employees regarding Diane Durkin was puzzling.
This was a difficult case. Cruelty and thoughtlessness here exceeded by far the usual. And on top of it, any case involving children was harder to handle, even for a seasoned professional. Jack knew that, Vivian knew that, even Martin probably knew that. She knew, too and she was quite confident that she could handle this case. But it would take some time until she fully found her place within the team again. Samantha let out a sigh. It wasn't going to be easy. Eventually there would be a situation that would bring her face the face with her demons. She would have to use her gun, to protect herself and to protect others. It was part of her job. The only part that she was not sure she could deal with at the moment. The problem was that there was no way of telling when such a situation would arise. It might as well happen tomorrow. She would not be prepared for it. If the worst happened she could put her life and those of others in jeopardy. The fact that today had gone well, had done a bit to strengthen her confidence. She recalled how apprehensive and nervous she had felt before leaving for work this morning. Her fears had been unfounded. Maybe time would be enough to heal the wounds. She was willing to put her hopes on that, even though she knew that it was dangerous.
