Red Alert(NYPD Red #5)(66)

“Does that actually work?” I said.

“Oh, goodness, yes. It’s highly effective at helping people change behaviors like smoking or nail-biting. Also, a trained therapist can help people explore painful feelings and memories they may be hiding from their conscious mind. My patient is in a hypnotic state. Give me a few minutes to bring her out of it.”

He stepped into his inner office.

“I don’t get it,” Kylie said. “Why is he suddenly being so cooperative?”

“Maybe it’s because you threatened to ruin his career by going public with the video. Nice way to let me do the talking, MacDonald.”

“And now you’re bent out of shape because I got him to agree to come in for questioning? A hundred bucks says he cracks when we show him the video. Call Selma Kaplan. I want her behind the glass when he gives it up.”

The inner door opened. “Detectives, please step in,” Langford said.

We walked in. I didn’t see the woman in the chair by the door until we were on the opposite side of the room. She was attractive, in her midthirties, sitting quietly with her purse on her lap.

“This is Karen,” Langford said. “She had a horrific childhood. She was raped repeatedly by her mother’s boyfriend, Lucas, and Mom did nothing to stop it. She was powerless then, but she’s much stronger now. Aren’t you, Karen?”

The woman nodded.

“Now that your mother and that evil Lucas are back in your life, what are you going to do if they try to hurt you?” Langford asked.

“Kill them,” Karen said, taking a gun from her purse and pointing it at me and Kylie.

The shrink flashed us a devilish smile. “Oh, she will,” he said. “I’m an expert at suggestion therapy. If you so much as move from where you’re standing now, Karen will shoot you dead. Isn’t that right, Karen?”

“That’s right. I’ll shoot them dead.”

“Mom,” Langford said, pointing at Kylie, “you’ve hurt your daughter enough, but now she has a newfound strength.” Now he pointed his finger at me. “As for you, Lucas, don’t even think about trying any of your old tricks.”

He opened the door. “Good-bye,” he said, and shut the door behind him.

My eyes scanned the room, stopping briefly on the flying elephant, who, according to Dr. Langford, symbolized the power of belief, and then they came to rest on the woman blocking the door.

Karen didn’t blink. She stared straight ahead at the two of us, gun in hand, finger on the trigger.





CHAPTER 63



I’ve made some tough calls in my eleven-plus years as a cop. But I was face-to-face with the most excruciatingly difficult decision I’d ever had to make.

I wondered if Dr. Langford had any idea of the ethical, moral, and legal dilemma he had left me and Kylie in. Probably not. Most civilians don’t have a clue about police protocol.

My partner and I were twelve feet away from a woman who had a deadly weapon pointed at us. But she wasn’t a criminal. She was an average citizen who had been transformed into a killing machine by a man who got inside her head and rewired her brain.

By all accounts she was an innocent victim. You might think that two veteran police officers would do everything they could to help her out of this untenable situation. Most people would expect us to talk to her calmly until we could convince her to turn over the gun.

But that’s not what we were trained to do. Our official response in a situation like this was clear-cut: Shoot her dead.

It’s Police Academy 101. If a suspect points a gun, or reaches for a gun in a way that indicates they’re going to shoot, police are authorized to fire. There’s no debate. We are supposed to aim directly at the suspect’s center mass and shoot to kill.

The aftermath of shooting this woman would be horrendous. People would scream police brutality and argue that a person would never do something under hypnosis that went against their personal code of ethics. Did I have any idea whether Karen’s personal code would allow her to shoot a rapist and an abusive mother in cold blood? No. And I didn’t care.

There was only one question on my mind. Could we kill her before she killed us?

I locked eyeballs with Kylie, and then I slowly let my gaze drift to the rug about four feet from Karen’s left. Then I shifted and zeroed in on the corresponding spot four feet from Karen’s right. The message was simple: Kylie would dive to the left, and I’d dive to the right. We’d roll, draw, and fire.

The odds were that Karen had no experience with guns, which meant that even if she pulled the trigger, she would do what most amateurs do and shoot the first round high while we were on the ground. She’d never have time to get off a second shot.

Kylie nodded. She understood the plan.

I angled my body to the right and shifted my weight to my left foot. Then I put three fingers to my face and counted down by tapping on my cheek. One…Two…

“Karen, I am so proud of you,” Kylie said.

My head snapped in her direction, but she didn’t look at me. She was focused on Karen.

“What?” Karen mewed.

“I’m proud,” Kylie said. “Proud of you.”

“For what?”

“For standing up,” Kylie said. “All these years I stood by and did nothing. I’m sorry, Karen. I wanted to help you…”