My name is Sarah Henderson, I am a detective, working in the 23rd precinct in Manhattan. I think they might be coming for me soon, so I want to get this out there as broadly as possible before it’s too late.
Earlier today, I was driving back from a witness interview, alone, because my partner is in isolation, and I heard a call coming in from dispatch regarding a hostage situation. Not my area, so I didn’t really pay much attention. Then, the operator said that the hostage taker had one single demand: Investigate the basement of a house on West 45th Street. That immediately got my attention, what kind of weird demand is that? Usually it’s money, or custody over their kid or something like that, but taking hostages to get someone to investigate? Unheard of.
As it happens, I was only 2 blocks away from West 45th, so I did a quick U-turn at the light. I figured whoever lived there might know more about this guy and why he wants this place investigated. Probably the guy’s ex and he wants to frame her.
I called it out on the radio: “Detective Sarah Henderson here, I am close by, will investigate”.
Almost as soon as I said that I heard my commanding officer come on the radio: “Negative, do not go there alone, we have a SWAT team inbound”.
I figured that was crazy, we don’t even know what’s there, I’ll just go take a look anyway before those empty helmets bust down the door of some poor girl.
I pulled up in front of the house and got out, there were no lights on, no car in front, no movement inside. I went up to the door and tried to ring the bell, but there was no doorbell anywhere.
So I knocked and shouted: “NYPD, please o…”. The door was unlocked, by knocking on it, it opened slightly.
Because I had a probable cause that a crime had been or was about to be committed, I entered.
“NYPD” I yelled again, “is anyone in here?”.
Nothing.
I pulled out my gun, fearing that there might be some junkies living there illegally who would try to jump me.
In front of me was a staircase, one set of stairs leading up and another leading down.
The basement, that’s what he wanted us to investigate.
I felt uneasy, but determined to figure this thing out before the meatballs came. As a woman in the police force, we are often looked down upon as not being “ballsy” enough, so I figured I would show them.
I did call it in first.
“Detective Sarah Henderson here, the door of the house is open, I have entered the house and moving down to the basement”
My radio crackled loudly as my commanding officer started shouting: “NEGATIVE detective, do NOT go down there, I repeat, do NOT go down there. SWAT is en route, pull back, that is an order!”
Fuck that guy, orders, I can do this. So I went down the winding stairs, back to the wall, gun out but held close so no one could ambush me and knock it out of my hands.
I shouted again: “NYPD, if there is anyone down there, show yourself!”
No sound whatsoever. I came to the bottom of the staircase, the room felt spacious, but without any light I could barely see anything. Keeping my eyes towards the room, I fumbled with my hand to the side and found a light switch. My heart was racing as I flipped it on.
The fluorescent lighting started to hum and with flashes the light came on. It revealed the room, about 500 square feet, with plain concrete floor. It was filled with gray file cabinets, neatly placed about 6 feet apart. It looked like an archive, with brown folders stacked neatly on each shelf. I did a quick sweep of the room for any activity, but was relieved when I saw no one there.
I took out one of the files, walked over to a table on the far side of the room, and opened it. It looked like a typical case file. Picture on one side, text on the other. The picture was of a teenage girl, on the right side it said:
Name: Mary Goldblaum
Date of birth: 06/03/2007
Date acquired: 01/05/2022
“Date acquired?” I mumbled. I went back to the file cabinet, put the folder back, made my way to the very back of the room and took out a folder there. I walked back over to the table and opened it. Same setup, picture on one side and text on the other:
Name: Jim Niles
Date of birth: 03/07/1985
Date acquired: 09/12/2000
That’s when I heard sirens coming from outside, brakes squealing and shouting. “Real subtle guys”, I thought to myself. I don’t know why, but I quickly shoved the folder back in the cabinet closest to me, just as I finished, the first clowns in full swat gear came down.
“It’s ok boys” I smiled, “the room is secure”.
Someone else followed in from behind, dressed in a brown suit without any armor or weapons. Sunglasses on. I immediately had a bad feeling about this.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“That’s not important, have you looked at any of these documents?”
“I don’t answer to you” I muttered.
His expression changed, and he shouted in my face: “HAVE YOU LOOKED AT ANY OF THESE DOCUMENTS?!”
“No” I lied, “jeez, chill out man”
“Then please remove yourself from the situation, we have reasons to believe these are sensitive documents”
“Sensitive huh”, I said, “how so?”
“Officer”, he shouted at the meatball besides him, “Please remove miss Henderson from the premises”.
I went back to my car and speeded off to the station.
When I walked in, my commanding officer was there, looking furious.
“Detective” he all but shouted.
“Yes, sir?”
“I specifically instructed you to stand down”
“I made a judgement call, sir”
“A judgement call?! Did you inspect any of the documents?”
“How do you know about the documents?”, I asked.
“Doesn’t matter, did you?”
“No”, I replied.
He came up close and whispered in my ear: “If you did, now would be a good time to tell me, there are multiple agencies calling me asking that same question”.
“No I didn’t look at any of the documents” I lied again, “but sir, something fishy is going on down there. Why are they all so interested in these documents? And what agency did the guy I met down there belong to?”
“It would be wise not to ask too many questions Henderson” he replied, “the case is closed”
“What do you mean, the case is closed?” I replied, “how about the hostage situation?”
“Oh, haven’t you heard? That got resolved very quickly, a SWAT team busted in, killing the hostage taker, unfortunately one of the hostages lost his life too”.
“They busted in even though this guy showed no signs of actually wanting to harm anyone? That’s not protocol, why wasn’t a negotiator called?”
“Look Henderson, it’s resolved, it’s done, now go home and let it go”
I did go home, but I couldn’t let it go. When I got home, I immediately googled the names of the boy and the girl mentioned in the documents. Turns out they went missing, it didn’t really surprise me that the dates they went missing corresponded to the “date acquired” field in the documents. I did a quick calculation based on my estimation of the number of folders per shelf, the number of shelves and the number of cabinets, it comes to more than 10,000. If you know that there are about 20,000 missing persons cases still open in the U.S., that’s about half. Exasperated, I sloughed back in my chair.
That’s when I realized I fucked up. By googling their names, I probably triggered a couple of the agencies behind this. I figure they will come for me soon, whoever they are. I just hope this doesn’t get buried.