Authors: Arthur Hailey
Officer Jensen, who had responded to the original call from the Grand Union
supermarket and interviewed the old lady, Priscilla Rhea, now had a feeling
he was involved in something serious. In his mind, he went over the
situation so far
.
During his questioning of others at the supermarket, several witnesses
confirmed seeing a fellow shopper-identified by two of them as Mrs
.
Crawford Sloane-leave the store suddenly, apparently in distress. She was
accompanied by her young son and two other men, one about thirty, the other
elderly. The thirty-year-old appeared to have come to the store on his own
.
At first he had asked other shoppers whether they were Mrs. Sloane. Then
,
when he encountered the real Mrs. Sloane, the hasty exodus ensued
.
From that point, the only person claiming to have seen any of those
described was Miss Rhea. Her story about an attack,
with the victims being carried away in a "little bus
,”
was increasingly believable. Contributing to the credibility was that Mrs. Sloane's Volvo station wagon-pointed out to Officer Jensen by someone who knew her-was still parked in the supermarket lot, with no sign of Mrs. Sloane or the others with her. There were also those splotches on the ground which possibly were blood. Jensen had asked one of the other officers now on the scene to protect them as evidence, for examination later
.
Another onlooker, who lived near the Sloanes, had given Jensen the
family's home address. This, coupled with the fact that there was nothing
more for him to do at the supermarket, had prompted Jensen's radio
message asking for a detective to meet him at 66 Park Avenue. In other
circumstances, and because Larchmont police radio conversations were
casual compared with those of larger forces, he would have included the
Sloane name with the address. But knowing that Larchmont's most famous
resident was involved, and being aware that outsiders might be listening
,
he withheld the name for the time being
.
Jensen was on his way to Park Avenue now-a journey of only a few minutes
.
He had just entered the driveway of number 66 when a second police
car-unmarked, though with a portable flashing roof light and screaming
siren-pulled in behind. Detective Ed York, an old-timer on the force whom
Jensen knew well, stepped out. York and Jensen conferred briefly, then
walked to the house together. The policemen identified themselves to
Florence, the Sloanes' day maid, who bad come to the front door at the
sound of the siren. She let them in, her face showing a mixture of
surprise and alarm
.”
There's a possibility, only a possibility
,”
Detective York informed her
,
"that something may have happened to Mrs. Sloane
.”
He began asking
questions which Florence answered, her concern mounting as she did
.
Yes, she had been in the house when Mrs. Sloane, Nicky, and Mr. Sloane's
father left to go shopping. That was about eleven o'clock. Mr. Sloane had
left for work just as Florence arrived, which was 9:30. No, she had not
heard from anyone in
the family since Mrs. Sloane left, though she hadn't expected to. In fact there had been no phone calls at all. No, there had been nothing unusual when Mrs. Sloane and the others drove away. Except . . . well . .
.
Florence stopped, then asked anxiously, "What's this all about? What's
happened to Mrs. Sloane
?
”
"Right now there isn't time to explain
,”
the detective said
.”
What did you
mean by 'except . . . well'T'
"Well, when Mrs. Sloane, her father-in-law and Nicky were leaving, I was
in there
.”
Florence motioned toward a sun-room at the front of the house
.”
I saw them drive away
.”
"And
?
”
"There was a car parked on the side street; you can see it from there. When
Mrs. Sloane left, all of a sudden the car started and went the same way she
did. I didn't think anything about it at the time
.”
"No reason why you should
,”
Jensen said
.”
Can you describe the car
?
”
"It was dark brown, I think. Sort of medium size
.”
"Did you see a license plate
?
”
"No
.”
"Did you recognize the make
?
”
Florence shook her head
.”
They all look the same to me
.”
"Leave that for now
,”
Detective York told Jensen. Then to Florence, "Think
about that car. Try to remember anything else, and we'll come back to you
.”
The detective and Jensen returned outside. As they did, two more police
cruisers arrived. One brought a uniformed sergeant, another the Larchmont
chief of police. The chief, in uniform, was tall and rangy, with a
deceptively low-key manner. The four began a hasty conference in the
driveway
.
Near the end of it the chief asked Detective York, "Do you think this is
for real-a kidnap
?
”
"At this moment
,”
York said, "everything points that way
.”
"Jensen
?
”
"Yes, sir. It's for real
.”
"You said the Nissan van that was seen leaving had New Jersey plates
?
”
“
According to a witness, yes, sir
.”
The chief mused
.”
If it is a kidnap and they cross a state line, it
becomes the FBI's jurisdiction. That's the Lindbergh law
.”
He added, "Not
that that kind of detail worries the FBI
.”
The last words came out sourly, reflecting the conviction of many local
lawmen that the FBI moved in on any high-profile case they wanted and
found reasons to decline the ones they didn't. Then the chief said
decisively, "I'm calling in the FBI now
.”
He returned to his car and picked up the radio mike
.
A minute or two later, rejoining the others, the chief ordered Detective
York to go back to the house and stay inside
.”
The first thing you do
,
have that maid put you in touch with Mr. Sloane and speak to him
yourself. Tell him as much as you know, and that we're doing all we can
.
After that, answer any incoming phone calls. Keep a note of everything
.
You'll be getting help soon
.”
The sergeant and Jensen were instructed to remain on protective duty
outside
.”
Soon, there'll be more people here than flies around a
shithouse. Let no one past the front gate except the FBI. When the press
get here with their questions, direct them to headquarters
.”
At that moment they heard the sound of a noisy approaching car. Their
heads turned. It was a battered white Volkswagen bug and the chief said
glumly, "Here's the first
.”
Bert Fisher had no need to check which house on Park Avenue was number
66. The assembled police cars were direction enough
.
As he stopped his VW at the curb and climbed out, the police chief had
entered his own car and was about to leave. Bert hurried forward
.”
Chief
,
can you make a statement
?
”
"Oh, it's youl
”
The chief ran down his window on the driver's side; he
had encountered the old news stringer many times before
.”
A statement
about what
?
”
"Oh, come on, Chief! I've heard all the radio buzz, including your
instruction just now to call in the FBI
.”
Bert looked
around him, realizing that his hunch was right
.”
This is Crawford Sloane's home, isn't it
?
”
"Yes, it is
.”
"And is it Mrs. Sloane who's been kidnapped
?
”
As the chief hesitated, Bert pleaded, "Look, I'm the first here. Why not
give a local boy a break
?
”
The chief who was a reasonable man, thought, Well, why not? He was even
a little fond of Fisher, a nuisance at times like a persistent mosquito
,
though never vicious the way some press people could be
.”
If you heard all the messages
,”
the chief said, "you'll know we aren't
certain of anything yet. But yes, we do think Mrs. Sloane may have been
abducted, along with the Sloanes' son Nicholas and Mr. Sloane's father
.”
Bert, scribbling as the chief spoke, knew this was the most important
story of his life and he wanted to be careful
.”
So what you're telling
me is that the Larchmont police are acting on the assumption there have
been three kidnappings
.”
The chief nodded
.”
That's an okay quote
.”
"Do you have any idea who might have done this
?
”
"No. Oh, just one thing. Mr. Sloane has not been informed and we're
trying to get in touch with him.
So before you start sounding off
, for
god's sake give us time to do that
.”
With that, the chief pulled away and Bert dived for his VW. Despite the
chief's caveat, he had no intention of waiting for anything. The only
question in his mind was: Where was the nearest pay phone?
Moments later
, as Bert turned out of Park Avenue, he saw another car
turning in and recognized the occupant-the local stringer for WNBC-TV
.
So the competition was onto the story. Now, if Bert was to stay ahead he
had to move fast
.
Not far away, on Boston Post Road, he found a pay phone. As he punched
out the numbers of WCBA-TV, his hand was trembling.
At 11:20 A.M. in the pressure-driven newsroom of WCBA-TV, tension was rising as it always did during the hour preceding the local New York station's News at Noon. Today especially, there was a heavy budget of news with several developing stories competing for the lead position
.
A famous evangelist, in New York to receive a religious prize, had been
found dead in his Waldorf suite, apparently from a cocaine overdose, and
a prostitute who had spent the night with him was being questioned by
police. In midtown Manhattan an office building was on fire; people trapped
on high floors were being rescued by helicopter. A Wall Street billionaire
,
terminally ill with cancer, was being wheeled around the Bronx in an
invalid chair as he handed out fistfuls of one-hundred-dollar bills. Every
few minutes, from a trailing armored car, his supply was replenished
.
Amid a scene of near-bedlam, Bert Fisher's phone call was routed to the
same assistant news director as before who, on hearing who was calling
,
snapped, "We're swamped here. Make it short and quick
!”
Bert did, at which the young newsman said incredulously, "You're sure?
Absolutely sure? Do you have confirmation
?
”
"From the chief of police
.”
Bert added proudly, "He gave me an exclusive
statement and, to be safe, I had him repeat it
.”
The assistant news director was already on his feet, signaling to the news
director, shouting urgently, "Line four! Line four
!”