Since the boy was planning to call his Dad, the working phone the restaurant clerk recommended was just 25 feet from the store and near an alley. The abduction had to have taken place at that phone booth before a call was placed. They assumed the boy was taken down that alley. Buildings along that alley were their top priority for checking.
The FBI and NYPD did not want patrol cars in the area for fear of scaring off the abductors. They sent undercover agents and detectives to investigate.
Three agents went to the warehouse that was Bobby's prison. One agent stood at the doorway to see if the possible abductors were headed for this building. The other two agents found three transients asleep in a far off corner. They were questioned, handcuffed and arrested as possible suspects. An unmarked car was called to take them in for questioning.
The two agents began scouring the building, flashlights in one hand a gun in the other. They kicked boxes, cans and other items. One agent began calling out, "Bobby, Bobby Perkins this is the FBI." There was no response.
The agent assumed the boy was gagged, but he hoped for some kind of human sound, a moan, anything. The agent kept walking around.
He was now within five feet of Bobby, who was hidden behind some trash and tied to a post.
The boy was asleep. But Bobby began arousing from the noise the agent was making. He was scared thinking this was the return of those awful men. As he came more alert, he heard the agent call out his name and "FBI." But Bobby was in very much pain from the beating and very weak from lack of food.
The agent was moving closer. He was now standing within two feet of the boy's backpack and shoes. But those were covered by two boxes. The agent kicked over one but not the other, which would have revealed the boy's things.
"Bobby, Bobby Perkins, this is the FBI. If you hear me, make any kind of sound. Bobby?"
The agent was so close to the boy yet so far away. Bobby tried to utter a sound, but it was only a whimper. His hands and legs were tied so that he couldn't make any noise with them. He tried another whimper, but it was all but inaudible.
The agent couldn't hear Bobby.
"Joe, I don't think the boy is here. He might have been. Perhaps they moved him."
The agent walked away. Bobby cried.
Jugger and Duke went on another buying spree, same as yesterday. They were still hung over, and their brains were mush from the dope. They bought a small tape recorder so that Bobby could make a plea to his Dad.
Late that afternoon they returned to the warehouse. Jugger tried to figure out how to work the tape recorder, while Duke untied Bobby and took off the gag.
"May I have some water, maybe a little food, please?" Bobby pleaded.
"Duke, give the kid something. I'm busy."
"What the _f_u_c_k_ for? We don't have water. All we have here is wine. These cookies are my snack. Why should I give them to the kid? Do you think I'm a nice guy or something?"
"Shut the _f_u_c_k_ up, Duke. Losing a few cookies won't hurt you. Give the kid some wine. Not too much, he'll pass out on us."
Bobby took some wine but hated the taste. He didn't take much, because just a few sips immediately went to his head. Nevertheless, it was some liquid, better than nothing. He ate the cookies with a passion, but they made him thirsty. Bobby asked for a little more wine. That was it; he didn't want any more.
"OK, kid, you say a few words into this tape recorder. You plead to your Dad to help you out by helping us out. Tell him to do as we tell him. Tell him you are OK. Tell him if he does as we say, you will go home. Got it?"
"Yes, sir. Dad, I'm OK. Please do as these guys tell you. Please, Dad. If you do what they want, I'll get to go home. I miss you, Dad. I love you." Bobby's voice was quivering, and you could tell he was crying.
"Good work, kid. Tie him up, Duke. Now we'll go find a phone."
The call came into my direct line at the Trade Center. The police were ready for a possible trace, if this were the abductors. Very few people have that special phone number. Bobby is one. Because of that, the FBI was on alert.
"This is Dave Perkins, what can I do for you?"
"Perkins, we have your kid. We demand $100,000 cash in unmarked $20 bills placed in a bag and put in a blue trash container just outside the St. Nicholas Avenue subway station. Have it placed there at 9:00 tonight. We know you can get the money. If you don't, the kid dies. If you do and we have the money with no hassles, we will call you so you can pick up your kid. Here's a message from the boy. (Jugger played the tape) Got it, Perkins? Now, do it." The line went dead.
I cried upon listening to Bobby's voice. I ordered Eaton to assemble the cash immediately. I was excited.
The FBI and NYPD were not. They knew that Bobby's voice was a tape recording and not live. But they didn't tell me that. The trace did not go through, because the call wasn't long enough. The authorities made their plans to monitor the pick-up of the money. It should be an easy collar. But the money was not important, it was Bobby who was their most concern.
The field agent's daily reports were coming in. There was a recommendation that the warehouse near the restaurant and phone booth, where Bobby was last seen, be reinvestigated. The agents felt more light and more people would uncover some possible evidence. The agent in charge began making plans to go back to the warehouse.
Duke and Jugger went back to the warehouse. Jugger wanted some _s_e_x_ from Bobby before they killed him. Duke was doing a lot of thinking on his own.
Jugger pulled Bobby into position and shoved his organ deep inside the boy. Bobby cried out in pain through his gag. This was incredibly painful and a violation of his person. Jugger was enjoying himself.
Duke pulled out his 38 special. The man was getting hungry to see blood and, most of all, death. He slowly paced around Jugger and Bobby from behind the two. A lot of thoughts were going through his vicious and violent mind. He reached down and picked up the jug of wine and gulped down a few drinks. Jugger was having a great time. Bobby was crying.
"Asshole, why do I need a _f_u_c_k_er like you giving me orders and holding onto the money? Tell me that, asshole."
Jugger was still inside Bobby, but started to turn his head to look at Duke.
Duke fired off a shot at close range into Jugger's head. The man's blood and portions of his brain fell on Bobby's back. Jugger fell off the boy and landed with a thud on the floor beside the boy. Bobby collapsed into shock upon hearing the sound of gunfire. Bobby was unconscious.
Duke didn't care if his victims were dead, alive or unconscious when he _f_u_c_k_ed them. He unzipped his pants and pulled Bobby up. He _f_u_c_k_ed the unconscious boy with great pleasure. He came and was fulfilled.
Duke then took Bobby's ATM card from Jugger's body. Now all the money would be his. He searched Jugger for anything of value.
The killer grabbed Bobby's belongings and went outside and threw them in one of the garbage dumpsters. He tried to make sure they wouldn't be found. Any other evidence in the warehouse was disposed of. Now, he only had to get rid of the boy.
At the Trade Center, Eaton had gathered the $100,000 cash in $20 bills and placed them neatly in a bag. Thirty FBI agents and NYPD police were being briefed at their own headquarters on tonight's plan to capture the abductors. Another 15 agents and officers were going to the warehouse.
Duke untied Bobby and wrapped the boy in a dirty blanket. There was a grocery store cart outside the warehouse filled with the belongings of a homeless woman. He started dumping the woman's stuff on the ground. She protested. He knocked the old woman unconscious. Duke then placed Bobby's wrapped body in the cart and wheeled it down the alley and across the street to another alley.
With no one watching, he heaved Bobby's body into a garbage dumpster and took away the blanket. The boy was unconscious, with Jugger's blood and brain remnants still on his bare back. Bobby was laying in restaurant garbage and other trash.
Duke heard some noises that startled him. He had to get this over with quick. He pulled out his 38 special and reached over the dumpster to kill Bobby with one shot to the boy's head. He wasn't aiming because of the noise and the cars he saw coming down the alley he left. Duke had to make sure there was a kill. He looked into the dumpster and saw blood on the side of Bobby's head. He was satisfied. Duke then threw more trash over Bobby's body to hide him. Tomorrow was a trash pick up day. The boy's body would be in a landfill sometime tomorrow.
Duke then went to a bar to relax and enjoy himself before collecting his $100,000 in a couple hours.
The cars and noise Duke heard were the agents and police coming in to investigate the warehouse. But Duke didn't know that.
At 8:30 Duke was close to the St. Nicholas subway station. He paid $20 to a transient to pickup the bag in the trash can at 9:00 and deliver it to him at another location.
A man arrived at the subway station at 9:00 and placed a blue bag in the trash can. The transient waited until the man left. A half hour later the transient walked over to the can and picked up the bag and walked away. The FBI and NYPD were watching closely.
A block away from the subway station, the transient met Duke in an alley and handed him the bag. Duke killed the man with one shot and took back his $20.
A police car with red lights pulled in at one side of the alley. Another patrol car pulled in the other side. Duke was trapped.
The patrol cars slowly moved in closer to Duke. The man looked for places to hide. He was not in a good alley with a warehouse. This was an alley with apartment buildings. And no door he tried would open.
The police and FBI told him to surrender. He didn't. Duke fired shots at the officers. He was not going to go in alive. He didn't want to. The police killed him.
The next day was trash pickup.
Working through the night, FBI and NYPD agents and officers along with a forensics team found evidence in the warehouse that Bobby had been imprisoned there. Of course, they also found Jugger's body, along with evidence on the man that he had physical contact with the boy. They began looking in the alley's garbage dumpsters for Bobby's body or anything that might have belonged to the boy.
They told me about 11:00 p. m. last night that Duke had been killed by police following the attempt at collecting the ransom money. In the early morning hours they told me about the evidence and killing that took place in the warehouse. Investigators still had no idea where Bobby was. They assumed at the best he was still tied-up somewhere. Nevertheless, they really suspected they had killed and dumped him somewhere. They did not tell me that assumption. I thought about it, but tried to keep that awful thought out of my mind.
The publicity people were receiving constant calls from media outlets. A story was already on the Internet that his abductors killed Bobby, and that the two suspects also were dead.
The CBS "Morning News" ran the following brief story nationally with a picture of me and Bobby behind the newscaster:
(NEW YORK CITY)-- The sixteen-year-old son of billionaire philanthropist and investor David Perkins was abducted a couple days ago. According to an NYPD source, the boy is presumed dead.
The kidnappers were using the boy's ATM and debit card to buy items then demanded $100,000 in ransom for the release of Bobby Perkins.
Early last night one suspect in the kidnaping apparently killed his accomplice. Then police in an alley stand-off killed that suspect after receiving the ransom around 9:00 at a Harlem subway station.
According to the FBI, investigators have found the abandoned warehouse in Harlem where they held the Perkins boy captive. But they did not find Bobby, and no evidence was found of the boy's belongings.
Investigators are now searching the area of the kidnaping in hope of finding Bobby Perkins.
I was furious and very hurt upon seeing that story. The NBC "Today Show" ran a similar story. The newspapers' deadlines did not permit a story to run. Nevertheless, that will change with the late afternoon editions and, of course, tomorrow's editions will have detailed stories and pictures.
Steve called from California crying so hard I could not understand him. My switchboard was filled with calls of condolences.
The publicity people kept telling the callers that Bobby has not been found, and it's too early to speculate that he has been killed.
The garbage trucks began arriving for the early morning pick-up of dumpster trash. Investigators allowed each truck to collect garbage only after it had been thoroughly searched for evidence.
One dumpster in the alley of Bobby's prison warehouse disclosed the boy's backpack, shoes and clothing. Agents and officers assumed that some dumpster down these alleys must contain the body of Bobby. A paramedic crew and ambulance were called just in case the boy was alive. Nothing else was found in the alley of the warehouse.
Investigators and medics treated an old woman in the warehouse alley. She appeared to be nearly 70-years-old and had been badly beaten in the face. She cried as she looked at her belongings laid on the ground but no grocery cart to carry all that she owned. The woman was shown a picture of Duke. She spate at it and cursed. The woman told investigators that Duke used her cart to carry something wrapped in a blanket down the alley and across the street to another alley.
Police and agents rushed to look into all dumpsters and discarded boxes down three alleys. They had looked into 65 dumpsters and countless boxes and other containers.
"Sargent, I found the boy," yelled one officer who had been examining a dumpster. An FBI agent radioed the find and called for the paramedics and the coroner, if needed.
Paramedics found a weak pulse on Bobby. The boy had been shot on the side of his head. Fortunately the bullet grazed the head but still caused a wound. Bobby had been terribly beaten and was traumatized and in shock. Paramedics started an IV, giving him oxygen and were talking to doctors. Bobby was rushed to Mt. Sinai Hospital trauma care unit. Through the morning his head was examined by neurologists with MRI and CAT scan screenings. A blood clout was found on the right side of the brain. He would need an operation. His condition was listed as critical. But, he was alive.
Moments after he was found, the news was relayed to our Trade Center task force. There were shouts of joy, clapping. Tears of happiness were shed. I took a helicopter from the Trade Center to Mt Sinai. Bobby was in the Critical Care Unit at Mt. Sinai for seven days before his condition was downgraded, and he was allowed to be transferred to the hospital suite I had arranged for the rest of his recovery. The room connecting to his was like a living room in a house, but it had a sofa bed for me at night.
Bobby spent most of his time sleeping in an almost coma like state. He would occasionally awake and call out for me. Psychiatrists and psychologists were uncertain how long it would take him to recover from the mental trauma of his abduction, beating and molestation.
He was hospitalized for three weeks before being released. That last week in the hospital he was more alert and cheerful. It was that week he took calls from Steve and his other friends, a whole lot of friends. His room was full of flowers and cards. The mental counselors were becoming more confident that Bobby would make a full recovery. The mental scars of the abduction would, of course, linger. He had a very positive attitude about life: "give me a bad blow, but I'm going to get up and get going."