“A beloved therapist with not one but two gahns?” Kylie said as we ran toward the cab. “Clearly there’s more to Dr. Langford than his bio on Wikipedia would lead you to believe.”
We closed in fast. A hundred yards, fifty, twenty, and then…
“Don’t come any closer, Detectives.” It was Langford. He was still in the back of the cab, crouched low on the floor. I could see the top of his ginger hair through the window.
“You’re out of options, Doctor,” Kylie said. “There’s no place you can go.”
“There are always options, Detective. Sometimes it just boils down to the lesser of two evils.”
“Your best choice right now is to get out of the cab with your hands held high,” she said.
“I don’t think so. Not at my age, and certainly not in the state of New York.”
“I’m not following.”
“Don’t play me, Detective. You know what I’m talking about. I’m forty-seven, I’m healthy, and there’s no death penalty in New York. Dying is easy. It’s on everyone’s bucket list. But wasting away in a government-sanctioned dungeon until I’m seventy, or eighty, or ninety? Not an option.”
“Shit,” Kylie whispered to me. “He’d rather die than go to jail. You know what that means?”
I knew. Suicide by cop. It’s a time-tested way to avoid a long-term prison sentence. Just come out shooting so the cops are forced to shoot back and kill you.
“Keep him talking,” she said. Then, using the line of backed-up cars for cover, she made her way east toward the roadblock.
“Dr. Langford,” I called out, trying to keep my tone as friendly as possible. “Aubrey was blackmailing you. It doesn’t get you off the hook for killing her, but it means you were also a victim. A good lawyer could use that to negotiate a lighter sentence with the DA.”
“News flash, Jordan,” Langford yelled. “Aubrey wasn’t blackmailing me. A few weeks ago I spent the night in her apartment, and she made the mistake of leaving her computer on with no password protection. I found the videos. Her introduction spelled it out. You saw it, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir. She had a backup of everything.”
“Then you know she wasn’t blackmailing anyone. She was making a documentary that would destroy as many men as she could, and I would be hurt the most.”
“You’re wrong,” I said. “Having sex with a patient wouldn’t have hurt your career.”
“Maybe not if Aubrey were the only patient. But there are others. Dozens. They’ve been silent till now, but going public with that film would have opened the floodgates. I had to kill her. It was a smart plan. I told her to meet me for dinner at a restaurant that just happened to be near Janek Hoffmann’s apartment. Then I picked her up, told her I changed my mind, and we drove out to Roosevelt Island together. You should have seen the look on her face when she realized I wasn’t going to release the choke hold.”
My cell rang. It was Kylie. I picked up. “I don’t think I can keep him talking much longer,” I said.
“Tell him to come out,” she said. “Make him come out.”
“I’ve been involved in a lot of homicides, Dr. Langford,” I said. “You’d be amazed at how easy some of them are to solve. This one was genius. If Aubrey hadn’t backed up those videos, I never would have caught you. But you couldn’t know she did that. You may wind up in jail, but I know the media. They’re all going to want you: 60 Minutes, the New York Times, Time magazine.”
The cab door opened, and Langford stepped out, gun in hand. “Did they teach you that at the academy, Jordan? If you’re negotiating with a narcissist, get him to give up by convincing him he can become a media darling, a rock star inmate. I told you: rotting away in prison is not an option.”
He pointed the gun in my direction and started walking toward me. “You or me, Detective. And trust me, I won’t hesitate to shoot.”
I raised my gun. “Don’t make me do this,” I said.
“One of us is going to pull the trigger,” he said, still advancing. “Your choice.”
And then Kylie stepped out from behind the far side of the yellow Nissan. Her shooting stance was textbook. Feet shoulder width apart, the firing-side foot slightly behind the support-side foot. Her knees were flexed, arms extended straight out, head level.
She fired.
The two barbed darts flew from the Taser gun, one hitting Langford in the back, the other in the right hamstring. The pistol dropped from his hand, his body pitched forward, and he let out a prolonged agonizing scream as Kylie unleashed fifty thousand volts into his body.
Two uniforms poured out from behind the cab. Within five seconds, Kylie killed the power, and the cops pulled Langford to his feet.
She walked up to him and squared off. “Morris Langford, you’re under arrest for the murder of Aubrey Davenport. You have the right to remain silent.”
When she finished reading him his rights, one of the cops holding Langford said, “Would you like to do the honors and cuff him, Detective?”
Kylie slapped her hand to her belt and smiled. “I’m afraid one of you will have to do it, officer,” she said. “My partner and I are out of cuffs. It’s been a busy day.”