CHAPTER 57

Alexander felt a wave of confusion wash over him. “She was there? So where is she now?” he asked.

The troubled look on the police officer’s face made Alexander’s heart sink. “What happened?” he demanded, his voice breaking.

The officer took a deep breath, his tone filled with regret. “I’m so sorry, sir, but we couldn’t find her. We’ve searched the premises thoroughly. I will send my team back to the Greenwich Hotel to search every nook and cranny. Rest assured, we will handle this with all the resources we have.”

Alexander’s frustration bubbled over. “How could you not find her? She has to be there somewhere!”

The officer remained calm, his demeanor professional yet empathetic. “I understand how you feel, Mr. Alfred. We are doing everything we can. Sometimes people are hidden in places we wouldn’t initially think to look. We’ll keep searching.”

Alexander ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his racing thoughts. “I can’t just sit here and wait. I need to be out there, looking for her.”

The officer nodded. “I understand your need to act. I’ll have some officers continue to search the hotel while you and I coordinate our efforts. If you have any ideas on where she might be or if there’s anyone who could know something, let us know immediately.”

A journalist shouted, “Mr. Alfred, what’s happening?”

“Where is Mrs. Alfred?” another reporter demanded, their eyes filled with curiosity.

“I heard others were injured at the Greenwich Hotel. Has she been found? Is she injured?” a third person pressed, trying to get a scoop.

Alexander tried to respond, but the questions kept coming, overwhelming him. He grew numb as the relentless barrage of inquiries made his head spin.

Before he could respond, a voice pierced the chaos. “Or is she dead? We heard some people are in critical condition,” a reporter called out, their question sharp and invasive.

The harshness of the question hit Alexander like a physical blow. His face went pale, his eyes glazed over as the reality of the situation crashed over him. He seemed lost in his emotions, unable to process or respond to the media’s intrusion.

The crowd’s murmurs grew louder as they noticed Alexander’s sudden pallor and emotional collapse.

Just then, Theodore rushed to Alexander’s side, pushing through the crowd of reporters and photographers. He wrapped a protective arm around Alexander, shielding him from the barrage of flashing lights and intrusive questions.

“Give him some space!” Theodore shouted, his voice filled with urgency and frustration. “Back off, all of you!”

The police quickly stepped in, forming a barrier between Alexander and the media. Chief of Police Samuel Bennett arrived on the scene, his face set in a firm expression as he assessed the situation. He stepped forward, pushing through the remaining media and taking control of the situation.

“Who gave you permission to enter this area?” Chief Bennett demanded, his tone authoritative. “This is a restricted zone. We need you all to move back immediately.”

One of the journalists stepped forward, waving a piece of paper. “We have a right to be here. This is a public matter, and the public deserves to know what’s going on.”

Chief Bennett took the paper, glancing over it briefly before handing it back. “This does not grant you access to interfere with an ongoing investigation. Move back now, or we will have to take further action.”

The journalists reluctantly retreated a few steps, though their cameras continued to snap pictures. Chief Bennett guided Alexander away from the chaos and down the dimly lit hallway of the station. Their footsteps echoed off the walls as they walked.

They entered Chief Bennett’s office, a small but neatly organized room filled with files and paperwork.

“Mr. Alfred,” Chief Bennett said, gesturing for Alexander to sit in one of the chairs across from his desk. “Governor James Carter called me. We will do everything in our power to get her back soon.”

Alexander sat down, his hands clenched as he tried to focus on the chief’s words. “What’s being done?”

Chief Bennett sat behind his desk, pulling out a notepad. “We’re sending officers back to the Greenwich Hotel to search every inch of the place, and we’ll have additional teams canvassing the surrounding areas. We’re also preparing to put out posters of Mrs. Margaret all over the city and to broadcast her image on the news.”

Alexander’s eyes widened a flicker of hope momentarily breaking through his despair. “I want to come with you.”

The chief shook his head gently, trying to manage Alexander’s expectations. “I understand that you’re worried, but you should go home. Once we have any news, we’ll let you know.”

Alexander’s face fell, the weight of his worry pressing down on him. “How can I go home when my wife is out there somewhere? I don’t know if she’s alright, if she’s scared, if she’s eaten anything. What if she’s being tortured right now?”

He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as he tried to suppress the sobs. Chief Bennett watched him, his expression softening with empathy.

“Alright,” Chief Bennett said, his voice firm but kind. “Then let’s go together. We’ll work on the search efforts and keep you informed.”

Meanwhile, Sandra sat in her living room, the TV news blaring in the background. As Sandra glanced up from her book, she froze when she saw Margaret’s face on the screen, her disappearance the top story of the evening news. The shock was immediate, and Mr. Alex was the first person on her mind.

She dialed Mr. Alex’s number, her heart pounding as she waited for him to answer. The call connected, and she barely waited for him to speak.

“Where is Margaret?” Sandra demanded, her voice filled with panic. “What have you done to her? Where is she?”

Mr. Alex’s voice was cold and sharp, at odds with her frantic tone. “You better watch your mouth before you see you and your family on the news first thing tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice laced with barely contained fury. “Don’t call me again.”

Before Sandra could respond, Mr. Alex ended the call, leaving her stunned and confused. She stared at her phone, her hands shaking in fear as she tried to process the gravity of what was happening.

Alexander and Chief Bennett arrived at the hotel. The police had already cordoned off Room 457 and were preparing to search the building. The hotel manager, John Harris, greeted them at the entrance, his face pale with worry.

“Mr. Alexander, Chief,” John said nervously, “I’m John Harris, the hotel manager. I’ll assist in any way I can.”

Chief Bennett turned to John, his expression stern. “We need to start by searching the hotel. We’ll begin with Room 457, but we need to check the rest of the building as well.”

The police began their search as Alexander’s eyes darted anxiously. He called out, “Margaret! Margaret, can you hear me? It’s Alexander!”

Their shouts echoed through the empty hallways, but there was no response. After what felt like an eternity of searching, John shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The rooms are soundproof, so it’s possible she could be somewhere and we can’t hear her.”

Chief Bennett walked back to Room 457, examining it more closely. “This room is a dead end,” he said, frustration evident in his voice. He turned to John, his tone sharp. “Why is there no security in this part of the hotel?”