Free Vanish: A Rizzoli & Isles Novel by Tess Gerritsen Page A

Hayder said to Emerton.
    Over the speaker came a man’s excited voice. “. . . you’re listening to KBUR, and this is Rob Roy, your host on this very weird afternoon. We’ve got a
bee-zarre
situation here, folks. There’s a lady caller on the line right now who claims she’s the one holding our local SWAT team at bay over at the medical center. Now, I didn’t believe her at first, but our producer’s been talking to her. We think she’s the real deal . . .”
    “What the hell is this?” said Stillman. “It’s got to be a hoax. We have those phone lines isolated.”
    “Just listen,” said Hayder.
    “. . . so hello, miss?” said the DJ. “Talk to us. Tell us your name.”
    A woman’s throaty voice answered: “My name is not important.”
    “Okay. Well, why the heck are you doing this?”
    “The die is cast. This is all I wish to say.”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “Tell them. Say it. The die is cast.”
    “Okay, okay. Whatever it means, the whole city of Boston’s just heard it. Folks, if you’re listening, the die is cast. This is Rob Roy at KBUR, and we’re on the phone with the lady who’s causing all that ruckus over at the—”
    “You tell the police to stay away,” the woman said. “I have six people here in this room. I have enough bullets for everyone.”
    “Whoa, ma’am! You want to calm down there. There’s no reason to hurt anybody.”
    Stillman’s face had flushed an angry red. He turned to Hayder. “How did this happen? I thought we isolated those phone lines.”
    “We did. She used a cell phone to call out.”
    “Whose cell phone?”
    “The number’s listed to a Stephanie Tam.”
    “Do we know who that is?”
    “. . . oops! Folks, I’m in trouble,” said Rob Roy. “My producer just told me that I have been ordered by Boston’s finest to cease and desist talking to this caller. The police are going to shut us down, friends, and I’m going to have to cut this conversation short. Are you still there, ma’am? Hello?” A pause. “It looks like we lost our caller. Well, I hope she calms down. Lady, if you’re still listening to me, please don’t hurt anyone. We can get you help, okay? And to all my listeners out there, you heard it on KBUR. ‘The die is cast . . .’ ”
    Emerton stopped the recording. “That’s it,” he said. “That’s what we caught on tape. We shut down that call right there, as soon as we heard who the DJ was talking to. But that much of the conversation got on the air.”
    Stillman looked stunned. He stared at the now-silent audio equipment.
    “What the hell is she doing, Leroy?” asked Hayder. “Was that just a cry for attention? Is she trying to get public sympathy?”
    “I don’t know. It was weird.”
    “Why isn’t she talking to
us
? Why call a radio station? We’re the ones trying to call her, and she keeps hanging up on us!”
    “She has an accent.” Stillman looked at Hayder. “She’s definitely not American.”
    “And what was that thing she said?
The die is cast.
What’s that supposed to mean? The game’s in play?”
    “It’s a quote from Julius Caesar,” said Maura.
    They all looked at her. “What?”
    “It’s what Caesar said as he stood on the edge of the Rubicon. If he crossed the river, it meant he was declaring civil war on Rome. He knew, if he made that move, there’d be no turning back.”
    “What does Julius Caesar have to do with any of this?” said Hayder.
    “I’m just telling you where the phrase comes from. When Caesar ordered his troops to cross the river, he knew he’d passed the point of no return. It was a gamble, but he was a gambler, and he liked to play dice. When he made his choice, he said, ‘The die is cast.’ ” She paused. “And he marched into history.”
    “So that’s what it means to cross the Rubicon,” said Stillman.
    Maura nodded. “Our hostage taker has made a choice. She’s just told us there’s no turning back.”
    Emerton called out: “We’ve got