Page 42 of Pied Sniper

“This was sent to my email a half hour ago,” said Abigail as she sat next to me. She placed the laptop on the coffee table and pointed to the screen. “It’s horrible.”

“Let me see,” I said, pulling the laptop closer. I swirled my finger on the mousepad to send the pointer to the video’sstartbutton and clicked. For a moment, the screen was black, then the dark receded and I realized someone wearing dark clothing was stepping away from the camera, leaving us to observe Tiffany. She was sitting upright on a chair, a sheet draped behind her that covered the wall. She wore the same clothes as we saw in her livestream the previous night, but her top was now torn and bloody and her shoulder had been crudely bandaged. Mascara streaked her pale cheeks and her hair lost much of its glossy sleekness. Some of the loose strands hung limply around her face. One leg shook and I could only imagine how frayed her nerves must be.

“I’m Tiffany Rose,” said Tiffany, gulping as she glanced up at something, or someone, beyond the screen, and then squarely into the camera. “To secure my release, you must pay one million dollars within twenty-four hours. You will receive instructions where and when. If you don’t follow the instructions, I will be—” She gulped again, forcing out the words “—I will be shot. I’m injured and I’ve lost a lot of blood. They say… they say… next time, the bullet will be in my head. If you call the police, they will shoot me. They are watching. Instructions will follow.” She glanced up again, blinking, her jaw wobbling as a tear slipped from her eye before the screen went dark.

“Shewasinjured,” said Abigail.

“Yes, MPD’s lab confirmed that, but she seems stable and it doesn’t appear to be anything critical. Her top and bandages only haddriedblood on them, not fresh,” I said, hoping Abigail found some solace in that. I know I did; Tiffany wasn’t actively bleeding and that had to be a good sign. More importantly however: Tiffany was alive. Or she was recently. It was hard to know exactly when the clip was filmed.

“We need to tell the police,” I said, as gently and directly as I could. “This is far bigger than just you and me now.”

“No! You heard her! They’ll kill her if I contact the police.”

“That’s why I’m going to do it very discreetly,” I said. “They can’t watch both of usandTiffany. They probably don’t even know you hired me.” Even as I said that, I knew it wasn’t entirely true. We didn’t know how many people we were dealing with. So far, we estimated two or three kidnappers, but what if it was a whole ring?

“I don’t know,” said Abigail, shaking her head.

“Plus, we need the video analyzed. It might contain crucial data that will help us find Tiffany.”

“But they’re going to hurt her! You heard them! I should start arranging to get the cash.”

“You can do that,” I decided, “but let me help too. We know Tiffany is safe for another twenty-four hours. They’re giving you time to get the money and they’ll keep her alive while you do that. She’s not worth anything to them if she’s dead.” I stopped to take a breath, wondering again how recent the video was. We needed that information. If it were filmed in the past couple of hours, that was a good sign Tiffany was still alive. If it were filmed hours ago, in the early hours of the morning? Well, that could be a different story. They must realize they can only get the money for a live Tiffany, but if anything happened to her, would they still proceed with their plan? “Plus,” I added, “when they contact you, and clearly they know how, you need to get further proof of her being alive. You can’t hand over any money without first knowing that she’s alive.”

“Ohmygosh! What if they killed her!” gasped Abigail.

“I firmly believe they haven’t,” I said, trying to look like I was one hundred percent confident. “They know anyone will ask for proof of life before handing over that kind of money. No Tiffany, no payday.”

“You sound like someone with experience at this kind of thing.”

“I’ve had a few complex cases,” I said, side-stepping her assumption. She didn’t need to know that I was kidnapped by a psychopath once. At least, I escaped.

“What can you do about this?” she asked, pointing to the blank screen.

“I want to get the clip analyzed by our guys, and I really think we have to notify the police.”

“What is there to analyze? All we could see is Tiffany!”

“The metadata attached to the video might have useful information like timestamps or a location, and on further viewing, we might see more than we thought we did. A professional knows exactly what to look for.”

“Metadata and all that stuff… I don’t know what any of it means.” She dropped to the sofa, her face in her hands. After a moment, she looked up. “Tiffany is a pain in the butt,” she said, “but she doesn’t deserve this.”

“I’m going to download the video clip you received, and send the email to the agency,” I told her, leaning in to tap the keyboard. I pulled a flashdrive from my purse and plugged it in. “I want to talk to my colleagues and then get back to you.”

“What shall I do until then? The press keeps calling every few minutes. And the FBI want to talk with me.”

“Stay here. Wait for them to contact you again. You don’t have to tell the press anything. And you tell the FBI everything you told the police and me.”

“And what about the money?”

I wasn’t sure what to do about that. Instead of worrying her with my uncertainty, I said, “Make some calls and see what you can get together, just in case. I don’t expect you to hand it over in person but they might ask you to. Although…” I frowned, thinking about what I heard. “They didn’t ask for cash. Cash is risky. They might ask for something else like cryptocurrency.”

“I’ve heard of that but I don’t know the first thing about it.”

“Let’s not worry about the finer details until they make more demands,” I assured her. I didn’t know the first thing about cryptocurrency either but I bet Solomon did. “I’m going to head directly to the agency and will be in touch. If they contact you again, call me immediately.”

“I feel so useless,” she said. “I wish I could do more.”

“You’re doing enough. You’re advocating for Tiffany and you’re helping us find her.” I paused at the door. “You can do one other thing.”

---