The Stranger
Page 26

“May I come in for a moment?”
Kuntz held up his badge. It looked, to Heidi’s amateur eye, to be legitimate.
“What’s this about?”
“I think you probably have some idea.” Kuntz nodded toward the door. “May I?”
Heidi stepped back. “I don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Have any idea what this is about.”
Kuntz stepped inside and looked around as though he were there to buy the place. He smoothed down a few of the comb-over hairs that had started to make a static-electrical escape. “Well, you called your daughter last night. Is that correct?”
Heidi wasn’t sure how to answer. Didn’t matter. Kuntz plowed ahead without waiting for one anyway.
“We are aware that your daughter has been involved in activity that could be illegal.”
“What do you mean?”
He sat on the couch. She sat on the chair across from him.
“Can I ask a favor, Mrs. Dann?”
“What’s that?”
“It’s a small one, but I think it would really simplify this conversation for all concerned. Let’s stop with the pretense, okay? It just wastes time. Your daughter, Kimberly, was involved in online prostitution.”
Heidi just sat there.
“Mrs. Dann?”
“I think you better leave.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“It sounds like you’re making accusations. I better talk to an attorney.”
Kuntz pushed down the stray strands again. “You got it wrong.”
“How so?”
“We don’t care about what your daughter may or may not have done. It’s petty and I will grant you this: With the online stuff, there is a fine line between business relationship and prostitution. Then again, maybe there has always been. We aren’t interested in hassling you or your daughter.”
“Then what do you want?” Heidi asked.
“Your cooperation. That’s all. If you and Kimberly cooperate, we see no reason why we can’t just forget about her role in all this.”
“Her role in what?”
“Let’s take it a step at a time, shall we?” Kuntz reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pad. Then he took out one of those small pencils golfers use to keep score. He licked the pencil’s tip and turned his attention back toward Heidi. “First off, how did you find out about your daughter’s involvement with that sugar babies website?”
“What difference does that make?”
Kuntz shrugged. “Just a routine question.”
Heidi said nothing. The small tingling at the base of her neck had started to grow.
“Mrs. Dann?”
“I think I better talk to an attorney.”
“Oh,” Kuntz said. He made a face as though he were a teacher suddenly disappointed by a favorite pupil. “Then your daughter lied to us. That won’t look good here, I gotta be honest.”
Heidi knew that he wanted her to bite. The silence between them grew so big, Heidi could hardly breathe. She couldn’t take it, so she asked: “Why do you think my daughter lied?”
“Simple. Kimberly told us you found out about the website in a completely legal way. She said that two people—a man and a woman—stopped you outside a restaurant and informed you of what was going on. But see, if that were true, I don’t get why you wouldn’t want to tell us that. There is nothing illegal in that activity.”
Heidi’s head started spinning. “I don’t understand any of this. What are you doing here exactly?”
“That’s a fair question, I guess.” Kuntz sighed and adjusted himself on the couch. “Do you know what the Cyber Crime Unit is?”
“I imagine it has something to do with crimes on the Internet.”
“Exactly. I’m with the CCU—that stands for Cyber Crime Unit—which is a fairly new division of the NYPD. We bust criminals who use the Internet in nefarious ways—hackers, scammers, that kind of thing—and we suspect that the person or persons who approached you at the restaurant are part of an elusive cyber criminal syndicate we’ve been after for a long time.”
Heidi swallowed. “I see.”
“And we would like your help in finding and identifying whoever might have been involved in these crimes. Does that make sense? So let’s get back to it, okay? Yes or no, did two people approach you in the parking lot of a restaurant?”
The tingling was still there, but she said, “Yes.”
“Great.” Kuntz smiled with the spaced teeth again. He wrote something down and looked back up at her. “What restaurant?”
She hesitated.
“Mrs. Dann?”
“I don’t understand something,” Heidi said slowly.
“What’s that, ma’am?”
“I just talked to my daughter yesterday afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“So when did you talk to her?”
“Last night.”
“And how did you get here so fast?”
“This matter is of great importance to us. I flew in this morning.”
“But how did you even know about it?”
“Pardon?”
“My daughter didn’t say anything about calling the police. So how would you know . . . ?” She stopped. Her mind traveled down a few possible paths. All of them were pretty dark.
“Mrs. Dann?”
“I think you better leave.”
Kuntz nodded. He started working the few strands of hair again, sweeping them from one ear to the other. Then he said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”
Heidi stood and moved toward the door. “I’m not going to talk to you.”
“Yes, you are.”
Still sitting and with something approaching a sigh, Kuntz took out his gun, aimed with precision at Heidi’s kneecap, and pulled the trigger. The sound of the weapon was quieter than she would have thought, but the impact was more immense. She collapsed to the floor like a broken folding chair. He moved fast, covering her mouth to smother her scream. He lowered his lips to her ear.
“If you scream, I’ll finish you off slowly and then I’ll start on your daughter,” Kuntz whispered. “Do you understand?”
The pain came in waves, nearly making her pass out. Kuntz took the muzzle and pressed it against the other knee. “Do you understand, Mrs. Dann?”
She nodded.
“Terrific. Now let’s try this again. What was the name of the restaurant?”