The Guilty - Jason Pinter [17]
are matching them with known offenders as we speak."
Bullshit, I thought. Officer Lemansky told me the rooftop
was covered in gravel. Unless they developed some way to
detect footprints in rocks, they're throwing us a hollow bone.
He continued. "We have many unfortunate witnesses to the
crime itself, but as of yet nobody has come forward who has
been able to positively identify the assailant."
At this point Costas Paradis moved a half inch closer. His eyes
seemed to be burning a hole through Mayor Perez's neck. The
mayor swallowed. He held his hand up, index finger extended.
"Let me assure you that the NYPD is using every available resource to find this heartless and soulless coward, and
the NYPD will not rest until the assailant has been brought
to justice."
Perez's eyes became sorrowful and he lowered his head.
"At this time I would like to express my sincerest condolences to the Paradis family. I have known Athena's devoted
father, Costas, for many years, and suffice it to say his daughter's death is not only felt by the Paradis family, but is felt by
his family and friends both in this city and around the world.
Justice will be served."
Hotel Paradis, Paradis Park, Paradis Skating Rink, I
thought. Not only was there a murderer loose, but there were
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57
millions, perhaps billions of dollars at stake. Maybe Perez
should quote a few more lines from his book. Catching
Athena's killer was not only a moral and legal priority, but
one the mayor needed to help pay for those campaign reelection ads with spiffy production values.
Perez went on for another few minutes. He spoke a great
deal but said very little.
"I've seen mimes more eloquent," Jack said. He leaned in
closer. "Listen, I've got a contact in the medical examiner's
office. As soon as this little soiree breaks up I'll have him on
the phone. I want you to talk to him before we file any copy."
"What do you want me to do?"
"He owes me a solid. After you talk to him, I want you to
go back and canvas the area around the Kitten Club. People
don't like talking to cops. Answering questions makes them
feel like they're being accused of something. Too many
freaking Law & Order spin-offs. Anyway, tell them who you
are. A newsman, their voice, the voice of the people. You
make 'em believe it, they'll let you hold their newborn."
"Got it."
At that moment, Mayor Perez said, "And now I'd like to
turn the podium over to Police Commissioner Alan Bradley,
who will answer further questions."
"Might be worth leaving now," I said. "Get a head start."
"Not yet," Jack said. "Leaving early is how you miss the
big stuff."
Commissioner Bradley, a stocky bald man in his early
fifties, shook hands with the mayor and Costas Paradis. He
stepped to the podium with a look of gravity and sincerity.
Then I noticed something strange.
Joe Mauser was flinching. He brought his hand up to his
eyes, as if shielding the sun. I took the binoculars, followed
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Jason Pinter
his line of sight. He was looking at a building across the way.
Then I saw what he saw--a faint glimmer of light off
of... something-- and then all hell broke loose.
Mauser dove to his left a millisecond before the air was
shattered by a deafening crack. I saw a fountain of red explode
by the podium, and suddenly hundreds of people were
screaming and running and cursing and fleeing.
I heard someone yell, "He's been shot!" EMS workers
sprinted up the stairs. I watched in slow motion detachment,
arms and legs pummeling me as they flew past. A man and a
woman in white knelt down beside a fallen person atop the
stairs. Police had their guns drawn and were yelling into
walkie-talkies. Their eyes were all looking up, guns drawn.
At the rooftops. Where the gunshot had come from.
I looked through the binoculars to get a better view of
the carnage.
I could see a group of cops ushering the mayor and Costas
Paradis inside city hall. An ambulance was trying to get
through the pandemonium but was having no luck. The cops
were shaking, ready to fire at an instant's notice.