Inside, Vicki Bane was directing traffic. The house bustled with activity: flash bulbs popping, trails of tape being strung up, fingerprint dust flying everywhere. Their finest criminologist, Dr. Jerry Sharp, was also monitoring every detail. He had a large skull, and one of those thick black mustaches that looked like an extra mouth. He also had a penchant for standing too close to a person when he spoke. Sharp didn’t do it to intimidate; he was just a warm-fuzzy kind of guy, especially considering the fact that he worked with cadavers all day.

Dr. Sharp seldom missed a thing. He was very “hands on.” Presently, he was vacuuming the upstairs carpet. Kelly climbed the stairs to get an update. The word was Sharp had already tentatively mapped out the course the kidnapper had taken while inside. The criminologist quickly pointed out something of interest to Kelly.

“Looks like he peeked in the master bedroom after grabbing the kid from the nursery,” he said.

“Then he left the house?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you think?” Kelly asked.

Sharp shrugged. “He must have wanted to see the mother.”

Vicki came and took her by the arm, after sending Charlie off to talk to neighbors. Kidnappings were getting to be big business in L.A.—particularly when it came to the rich and the richer. In the last eight months, there had been six major cases in the county—involving sums in excess of five million dollars. None had been reported in the newspaper. Only one kidnapper had gotten away with the loot.

From the look of things, Carl Techer’s son had a few bucks.

Kelly saw Vicki was in her element—her steely eyes focused, her strung-out personality bent toward a solitary goal. She had already wired the phones and organized a network of agents to canvass the area. She was frustrated, though, because she was not getting much out of the parents.

“Talk to them, push them,” Vicki said.

“Give me what you got,” Kelly said.

“Amy Techer set her baby down and went for a nap and when she woke up it was gone. What does that tell you?”

“Do you really buy the Techer Securities connection?”

“Hey, Carl Techer is not a nice man. Even before this happened, I used to read about him in the papers. He’s a total bottom-line kind of guy. I’m not shitting you.”

Kelly held her side. “Don’t say that word around me.”

Vicki waved her hand. “Oh yeah, sorry. Anyway, the son reminds me of the old man. Total asshole … I mean, you’ll see why in ten seconds. This could be connected to a shady deal back East. David Techer came out here from New York a year ago.”

“What about Amy?”

“She’s a wallflower. Doesn’t say much. But I think she loves her baby.”

“Where are they?”

“Downstairs, in the dining room. Tape the interview.”

“Of course,” Kelly said.