"A homeless man has been kidnapped, and a billionaire is supposed to pay a ransom for him. Even though she doesn't know him and has nothing to do with him."
Elizabeth Rizzoli heard the soft creak that the back of her chair made whenever she leaned back.
"How did you get into the game?" Benjamin was sitting opposite Elizabeth on the grey fabric couch with matching cushions on top. He had leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he listened intently to his mother's words.
"The woman is a media entrepreneur, very influential and endlessly wealthy. But she doesn't need more media because she's caught up in a juicy scandal. She is accused of bribing politicians, which would be very unpleasant for her media group and, above all, for herself. But there is no known evidence of this, so she hopes the accusations will blow over. And then comes this blackmail! The matter will be kept under wraps at all costs; the mayor and the senator for internal affairs are her friends. She asked them to handle the matter quickly, efficiently, and discreetly. I was invited privately, more or less as an advisor."
"So you should investigate off the record and solve the case quickly and discreetly before anyone finds out. No case file, no official channels, no more scandal."
Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded. "The kidnappers put the woman in an unusual position. They show her a livestream of the victim in his hideout. She sees the man cowering in his dungeon, desperately trying to understand his situation. Moreover, it's the dead of winter, with freezing temperatures and blizzard conditions in Boston. The victim could freeze to death if the woman doesn't react quickly." She pointed her index finger at Benjamin. "What do you think the kidnappers are using to blackmail the billionaire? I'll tell you this: these people have nothing to do with the bribery allegations!"
"All right, then, let me think. There was a kidnapping that was obviously carefully prepared. Otherwise, there wouldn't be a livestream from the victim's hideout." The slim young man ran a hand through his brown hair. "How's the broadcast quality?"
Elizabeth smiled appreciatively. "HD quality, everything is very clear!"
"What is the victim's build? How old is he?"
"Tall, strong, about forty years old."
"Okay. If the woman doesn't know this homeless man and has nothing to do with him, and if this bribery scandal isn't connected to the perpetrators' motive, then the kidnappers must be pursuing a truly extraordinary plan. How much ransom do they want?"
"A hundred thousand!"
Benjamin closed his eyes. His mother could see them moving back and forth under his eyelids. Now, he's calculating the options. He's about to offer me the most likely one.
"It's a mind game." He opened his eyes again. "They're telling the woman: this homeless guy will die if you're too cheap to redeem him with an amount that's just pocket change to you."
"That would be pretty creative of them. But what's the problem with that theory?" Elizabeth didn't move; her attention was solely on her son.
"It's far too risky! The perpetrators have already committed two crimes, kidnapping, and blackmail, and they're also threatening murder. They risk very long prison sentences; you don't do that for a hundred thousand dollars. Especially not if you have to share it. There are probably even more than two perpetrators. The victim is tall and in his prime. Homeless people are usually powerful due to their hard life; you don't kidnap them alone, and just one helper isn't enough either. After all, one of the kidnappers has to drive the getaway car. And that's the problem! Even if it is unlikely that there are only two perpetrators and the woman really does pay - which is unlikely for the perpetrators - each of them would have just fifty thousand dollars. The HD camera and the possibility of untraceable transmission alone cost several thousand. It's not worth it!"
"And yet they do!" Elizabeth rose from her chair. "That's enough for today; I'll let you think about this case for a while." She picked up the carafe of red wine that had been breathing in it on the dining table for an hour. "Next time, I'll expect your best theory on why these kidnappers are taking such a big risk for so little money. Then I'll give you more information."
"Red wine at lunchtime already?" Benjamin demonstratively put his hands on his hips.
"Times of day have lost their significance for me. It's always as late as I want it to be in this apartment." Elizabeth swirled the carafe from her wrist and smelled the wine. "It's Sunday lunchtime, and you're wearing suit trousers and a shirt. Your hair is freshly washed but not styled. You've come from a date with a young woman who cheated on her boyfriend with you. It wasn't planned that you'd spend the night together; it just happened."
Benjamin grinned all over his face. "Because you only go to a hotel in your city with your get-up if you have a life partner at home. And because I would have had hair styling products at my disposal if we had slept at her place or if I had known in advance that it would be overnight. Okay, but why was it a woman?"
Elizabeth didn't have to think and arched a brow. "Because you dressed respectable and grown up. A man taking a young guy out would find that look too stuffy." She set the decanter down on the coffee table.
"Just be young and insanely attractive, then you can have what and when you want in this town!"
Elizabeth twisted the corners of her mouth into something resembling a smile. How grown up he had become, this once little boy she had raised with her ex-wife Maggie. "So, what did you learn from your latest date?" She went to the cupboard beside the window and drank a red wine.
"I still have to sort out the impressions. It's a thing with chemistry. She doesn't lie, but she disguises her secrets pretty well sometimes. There's no better way to find out about people than to have sex with them. They no longer act in a socially controlled way. They are just completely uninhibited and release pheromones like crazy. They say things they would otherwise never say and show desires and deep-seated longings that they would otherwise not admit to themselves. Everything that otherwise blinds us about people is deactivated. During sex, we see what would otherwise remain hidden behind walls. The bank advisor who longs to be whipped by someone, the teacher who calls someone daddy, the shrill drag queen who just wants to be held in her arms --"
"And you save it? All of it?" Elizabeth poured herself a good sip of her favorite wine.
"It stores itself away. Sometimes, what I've understood burns itself into my memory. It's always there, everything. And there are more and more dates, especially at the weekend. But not all types of people were there. It's not just about age, gender, or social status. It's also about cultural backgrounds, level of education, and self-perception. It's a bottomless pit!"
Elizabeth was impressed. Of course, her son also could make absolutely logical deductions. But Benjamin had also begun to turn his attention to human smells some time ago. He had set out to create a catalog of person types based on olfactory perception during sexual experiences. The aim was to be able to draw conclusions about who a person was, what they wanted, and what they were trying to hide based on their scent.
"What do you smell in this red wine?" Elizabeth handed her glass to her son.
Benjamin reached for it and smelled it. "Blue gummy bears jumping on a trampoline."
"Your pictures are blurry and grotesque." Elizabeth pointed to the window facing her garden. "To be understood in the outside world, you must express yourself more clearly. And you have to get used to constantly explaining things you take for granted. Others don't see what we see. And they don't smell blue gummy bears on trampolines in red wine, but oak, cherry, and tobacco."
Someone knocked on the door.
"Since when do you get unannounced visitors?" Benjamin looked at his mother in astonishment.
Elizabeth gave him a scrutinizing look. "Come on, tell me who's knocking on my front door."
Benjamin furrowed his brow and closed his eyes. "Okay, someone wants to see you but hasn't announced themselves. It's Sunday, so there is no letter carrier or parcel services. Jehovah's Witnesses don't knock so intrusively, and a neighbor who needs sugar wouldn't knock like that. You live quite far out in the countryside. Anyone who comes to your house without ensuring you are at home knows you are always at home. Very few people know that, and only one knocks so confidently and forcefully."
Elizabeth satisfiedly put her red wine down on the coffee table, walked through the hallway, opened the door just a crack, and immediately turned around again without glancing at the unannounced visitor. "Hello, Veronica! How nice of you to drop by again."