The door to Benjamin Adelson’s office banged open.

A man stumbled to a stop in the threshold, sweeping his hair out of his face and pushing up his glasses. He threw a file down on a mahogany desk.

“You were right. It was Dunham.”

Detective Benjamin Adelson stared out the office window. The New York City skyline shimmered with a thousand lights against a pale blue sky. He turned his chair to face the man in the doorway. Adelson had a close-shaven beard, dark skin, and a satisfied glint in his eyes.

“Of course it was Dunham.”

“It—it seemed preposterous, but print analysis results just confirmed.” Kelly Mitchell, short, pale, and skinny, ran a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair. “How did you—I mean, the clock, and the stained board…”

“I’m not going to tell you it was easy, because it wasn’t.” Benjamin clicked a pen in his hand. “But there’s no such thing as an unbeatable game.”

“I mean, technically, I think there could be an unbeatable game, like a game designed without a solution or—”

“Kelly.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Benjamin stood up. “Good work.”

“Yeah, you too. I—I have to ask, why didn’t you let the rest of us in on how you put it together? We didn’t have any idea what you were thinking until you’d solved it.”

“I didn’t need anyone else’s help. Getting more people involved would’ve slowed down the process. I do my best work solo.” Benjamin opened a file cabinet and placed the file on his desk within. “Doing anything over the weekend?”

“Me? No. Well, actually, I was hoping to visit the zoo. The one in the Bronx. You ever—you ever been there?”

Benjamin grabbed his dark green jacket from its hook on the wall. “I’ve taken Aniyah there a few times. The tiger’s her favorite.” He donned the jacket and turned to face Kelly. “Anything I should look out for over the weekend?”

“I—no, I don’t think there are any open cases you’re needed for. But there’ll be something by Monday.”

Benjamin nodded. “See you around.”

Benjamin Adelson left his office and headed down the hallway. It was just past six in the evening; he’d stayed longer than usual to wrap up the case.

As Benjamin entered the elevator at the end of the hall, his phone buzzed. He checked it.

It was a text. A quite unexpected text.

WE NEED TO TALK

Sent by Jada Adelson. His niece. Another followed within seconds.

meet @ hell gate

His brow furrowed. Something was wrong.

Benjamin emerged from the elevator at a brisk pace and exited the precinct. Within minutes, he was boarding a packed train headed to Queens.

• • •

When Benjamin arrived at the Hell Gate Bridge, the sun was descending toward the horizon. The lights of the Manhattan skyline glittered in the East River. And Benjamin felt uneasy.

He spotted his niece under the bridge’s arch, leaning against the concrete base. Jada was seventeen, with pink-tinged black hair and glasses, wearing a dark gray jacket over a teal shirt. She was accompanied by three other teens.

The moment Jada spotted Benjamin, she gestured urgently for him to come. He quickened his pace and met the four under the bridge.

“What’s the matter?”

“We’re being followed,” Jada said.

As Benjamin took a cautious look over his surroundings, Jada spoke to the three other teens in a low voice. “My uncle Benjamin. He’s a detective.”

“You work for the cops?” one of the teens asked.

Benjamin noted a hint of hostility, maybe fear, in the boy’s tone. “I’ve been with the NYPD for six years.”

“This is Noah and Ezra,” Jada said, gesturing to the two boys. They looked like brothers. The taller one, Ezra, wore a neon green baseball cap and a striped blue-and-black jacket, and carried a black skateboard in one hand. Noah had an afro, a yellow jacket, and an orange backpack stuffed with books. He looked younger than everyone else, probably a freshman. “And this is Cara.” Cara smiled uncomfortably. She had short, blond hair and a purple sweater over a striped black-and-white shirt.

“You said followed.”

“We’ve been seeing someone for hours,” Jada said. “Since we got out of school, there’s been a guy in a black coat a block behind us.”

“It’s a man?”

“I don’t know, we’re not sure,” Cara said. “We can’t get a good look. I mean, I’m not sure we even saw anything, like…”

“Are you gonna do something about this?” Ezra asked.

“Yeah.” Benjamin glanced at his watch. “Yeah.”

“You got somewhere to be?” Noah asked.

“I’m supposed to make dinner tonight.” Benjamin surveyed the sidewalk and street. A few bikers, a jogger, two couples walking toward the park, someone looking out at the river, a man idling in his car, a police car parked not far away. The sun would set within a half hour.

“Where do you kids live?”

“Twenty-sixth Street, not far from here,” Cara said.

Noah started to respond, but Ezra said, “We can get home ourselves.”

“I want to make sure you all are safe.” Benjamin pulled out his wallet and handed one card to the brothers and one to Cara. “Don’t hesitate to call me, okay? See anything suspicious, you call that number. Can you get one of your parents to pick you up from here?”

“Yeah, I’ll… I’ll do that,” Cara said, already texting a message.

Ezra followed suit. Noah looked around, fidgeting with the fabric of his backpack.

“I can walk you home,” Benjamin told Jada.

He waited until Cara’s father arrived in a green SUV and picked her up. A few minutes later, a black car drove up to the brothers.

“RideX,” Ezra said, gesturing to his phone, as he got in the cab. Noah followed, and the taxi drove off.

Benjamin walked with Jada to her house. After ensuring she was safely back with her family, he walked the rest of the way to his apartment. It was dark by the time he arrived. And he was very late for dinner.

Benjamin ran up the stairs to his floor and unlocked the door.

“Where’ve you been?” a voice called as he entered.

“Had to deal with some unexpected work,” Benjamin said, hanging his jacket on a hook by the door.

“I had to heat up some leftovers. Aniyah was looking forward to your chicken tacos.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Benjamin turned to face his wife. She was leaning against the dining room doorway, arms folded. “Can you forgive me?”

Nia smiled and looked askance. “We missed you, Ben.”

“Daddy?”

An eight-year-old girl came running from the dining room.

“Hey,” Benjamin said, crouching down to hug her. “Sorry I couldn’t make it for dinner. I had—”

“Work,” Aniyah finished for him. “I know. Can you be here tomorrow?”

“I’ll try.”

A furry head wriggled under Benjamin’s hand, and he looked down at the small, gray terrier staring up at him. “Hey, Lucy! You missed me too?” The dog wagged its tail in response.

“I’m taking you to the museum tomorrow, I didn’t forget,” Benjamin said to Aniyah. “Leaving at ten, got that?”

“Yes sir. Can we go to the Egyptian gallery first? There’s some artifacts I’ve been studying from the Middle Kingdom that I wanted to see.”

“You got it. Now go finish your dinner, okay?”

Aniyah went back to the dining room, and Nia approached her husband.

“I’m telling you, we’ve got a future Harvard grad on our hands.”

“Harvard? I’m partial to Yale.”

“Of course you are.” She laughed. “Why don’t you get some dinner?”

“Yeah.” He waited for a moment. Through the apartment window, he could see the silhouette of the Hell Gate Bridge against the darkening sky. He thought about telling Nia about his encounter with Jada and her friends, but stayed silent.

“You look worried,” Nia said.

Benjamin stared into her eyes. She could tell what he felt, even better than he could. “I’m hungry. That’s all.”

She looked disappointed by his answer, maybe even angered. But he didn’t want to burden her with fear that, as far as he knew, could be unnecessary. If anything did happen to their niece, he could take care of it. But chances were, everything would turn out fine.

But that couldn’t stop a sense of unease from persisting in the back of his mind.

• • •

A buzz woke Benjamin in the middle of the night.

He rolled over, glancing half-consciously at the glowing phone on the nightstand. An unknown number was calling him.

Normally, he would’ve turned the phone off before going to sleep. To be extra safe, he’d left it on.

Benjamin glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 2:19.

He picked up the phone, answered the call, and held it to his ear. He lay on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. “Hello?”

No response. He listened closely.

A small scuffling sound. A muffled voice, maybe more than one, sounding confused and afraid. A car engine. Seconds later, a car door opening. Then several loud bumps; it sounded like the phone had been dropped.

The call ended abruptly.

Benjamin lay wide awake in bed.

He called the number back, but no one answered.

For several minutes, he lay absolutely still, eyes open, mind racing. It could’ve been a mistake. An accidental call.

Or not. That was what scared him.

• • •

Benjamin woke before the sun had a chance to climb above the horizon.

He poured himself a glass of orange juice and took a sip as he peered out through the window at the street below. The city was quiet, lit by the pale hint of dawn.

He checked his phone. No new messages.

Why hadn’t he asked for their phone numbers?

He paced the small living room for a minute and stopped himself by sitting on the couch. He took another sip of orange juice. Then he made a call.

As expected, no one picked up. He left a voicemail.

“Hey, Jada, it’s me. I don’t know if you can do this, but… can you check to make sure your friends made it home okay?” His brow furrowed. “I just… want to be sure. Okay. Bye.”

He sighed and dropped his phone on the couch beside him.

Benjamin dressed himself in a gray shirt, jeans, and his dark green jacket.

He took a run around the neighborhood to distract himself. It didn’t work. That was made even clearer when he found himself in front of Jada’s house.

He rang the doorbell. He rang it again. As he went to ring it a third time, the door opened.

It was Jada’s mother, his sister-in-law, a large woman with bright red glasses and dreadlocks. She didn’t look thrilled to see him.

“Benjamin?”

“Clarice. I need to talk to Jada.”

“At six thirty in the morning.”

“I’m sorry. But I think one of her friends might be in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” She shook her head. “You don’t mean…”

“I don’t know. But I need to be sure.”

Clarice massaged her forehead. “I’ll get her.”

“Thank you.”

A minute later, Jada came to the door, looking only half awake.

“What’s going on?”

“Those friends of yours from the park. Where do they live?”

A look of shock registered on her face. “Wait, like—”

“I don’t know, I’m sure they’re fine, but I want to make sure they got home safe. Do you know where they live?”

“Yeah.”

“Text me their addresses.”

“Anything else I can do?”

“Go back to sleep. And pray everyone’s safe.”

• • •

A frightened pair of eyes stared at him through the frosted glass. Benjamin pulled his badge from his wallet and held it up.

The door opened. A thin woman with tangled blond hair, wearing sweatpants and a wrinkled pink T-shirt, smiled somewhat uncomfortably at him.

“You’re Mrs. Bennet?” Benjamin asked.

She nodded. “Karen Bennet. Are you with the police?”

“Yes, I’m a detective. Jada’s uncle.”

“Oh! Jada. Yes, I know her. Cara’s told me about her.” She tried to fix her messy hair. “Would you—do you want to come in, detective?”

“No, thanks.” He looked past her inside the house. Several empty beer bottles stood on the dining room table and kitchen counters. “Is your daughter home?”

The woman stared blankly at Benjamin. “Oh, I—I think so. Yes, she’s… you know, I’ll go check.”

The door shut.

A minute later, it opened again. “Cara’s home.”

Benjamin eyed Karen for a long moment, and nodded. “Okay.” He took a card from his wallet and handed it to her. “On the off chance something bad happens, call this number.”

“Why would something bad happen?”

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Bennet. Just keep that number.”

As he walked away from the house, Benjamin took a small notebook with a leather cover out of his jacket’s pocket. He wrote inside.

Cara Bennet: 26th St. and 23rd Ave, green SUV, mother alcoholic (?), said follower was hard to see

He checked his watch. 7:39 AM.

He walked several blocks to the nearest train station and boarded a Manhattan-bound train. Half an hour later, he arrived in the Upper East Side.

• • •

Benjamin stood in front of a brownstone building, one in the middle of a long block of them. The wind rustled the leaves of a spindly tree behind him. He opened the small wrought iron gate, walked up the steps to the wood and glass door, and knocked.

As he waited, he looked over the brownstone. The glass windows were spotless, the iron fencing and railings bearing no trace of rust, the small, potted bushes in front well pruned.

The door opened, but not all the way. A bald African American man who looked like he hadn’t slept in days glanced over Benjamin from head to toe. He wore an unbuttoned dress shirt over a tank top and worn jeans. “Who are you?”

“Detective Benjamin Adelson.” He held up his badge. “Are your sons home, Mr. Martin?”

The man’s wary expression changed to one of fear. “No. They never got home last night. I thought they were just late.”

Benjamin’s heart began to sink. “Do you have any idea where they might be?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“They said they were taking a RideX cab here. Is that true?”

“That’s what they usually do.”

“Your sons, and their friends, said they were being followed yesterday. Is there anyone you can think of who might want to hurt them, or…”

“Kidnap them?” The man looked pained. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“It’s okay. We’re going to find them. Most of these kinds of cases are closed within forty-eight hours, and if necessary, we can get a Missing Persons Squad involved.”

The man looked past Benjamin at the street outside. “Are there more people trying to find them?”

“It’s only me right now, but I’ll need to file this case with my precinct.”

“Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t get anyone else. I want you to find them yourself, alone.”

Benjamin took a moment to try to understand. “I can do that. But I don’t do freelance cases. I’m with the NYPD.”

“Do it off the books, just this once. I can pay you.”

The man reached for his wallet, but Benjamin stopped him. “I don’t need your money. I’ll find your sons.”

As soon as he said it, Benjamin hesitated. The legality of doing a case alone, without the supervision or assistance of his precinct, was questionable. But then again, with the boys’ whereabouts and condition unknown, this case needed to be solved quickly. And Benjamin knew of no faster or better way than going solo.

“All right. If I’m going to do this, I’ll need your cooperation. What’s your name?”

“Samuel.”

Benjamin nodded. “Let’s get started.”