The Guilty - Jason Pinter [9]
"You aren't assigned to shitstorms, they just happen to rain
when you're walking by." Curt smacked his gum.
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"Big story," he continued. "Not just any girl got killed
here tonight."
"Don't I know it." I leaned in. "Listen, man, if I had to
guess, Athena was killed by a high-powered rifle. Highcaliber slug." I pointed at the outcropping of rooftops surrounding the Kitten Club. "Your killer shot from the roof of
one of these buildings. Guess it's up to your forensics and
spatter people to figure out the angle and trajectory."
"Like Deadwood out here. Everybody saw everything, but
nobody saw nothing. Know what I mean?"
"Yeah. Figure some sick asshole with a video cell phone
will upload this to YouTube any minute now." I looked around,
saw half a dozen half-drunk and half-asleep club goers fiddling
on cell phones and BlackBerries. "Maybe sooner than later."
Curt kept chewing, nodded. "You see that building over
there?" He flicked his head north.
"Which one?"
"Don't know," he said, eyes locked on to mine. "Maybe
redbrick or something."
I looked again. There was a redbrick building two blocks
north and one block west of us. I could make it out through
the early morning haze.
"Seen a lot of my boys in blue checking it out. Trying not
to cause a stir."
"That right?"
Curt nodded. "Hate to see those cockroaches at the
Dispatch get the brass ring. You know they had a reporter over
here from their gossip section, offered to write me up as one
of NYC's hottest bachelors if I planted a bug in our briefing
room? Fucking parasites."
"Hell, you'd be lucky to break the top hundred."
"Yeah, tell that to my girlfriend. I'd be on patrol with a
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Jason Pinter
GPS monitor up my ass the second she thinks my eyes start
wandering." Curt looked around, coughed into his hand.
"Can't say I was a fan of Athena's, you know, work, but
Christ, the girl was only twenty-two."
"No kidding," I said. We stayed silent for a moment, then
I remembered my deadline. "Hey, drinks on me this week. If
I don't hit my deadline which is in, oh about six minutes, I'll
be out of work and you'll have to pick up the tab."
"Then get the hell out of here." He clapped me on the
shoulder. "Take it easy, Parker."
After saying goodbye I hung back for a minute. I didn't
want to let anyone else know I had a possible scoop. Then I
waded back into the soup of reporters, stuffed my hands in
my pockets and headed north.
Two patrolmen jogged by me. I slowed down. There were
several cops huddling outside of the redbrick building Curt
had pointed out. As I got closer I heard radio activity. I stopped
at the corner and peeked around.
A cop stood by the awning, a walkie-talkie in his hand. A
plainclothes cop, probably from Forensic Investigation, strode
up and spoke to him for a minute, then ducked inside. I took
a breath, waited until the cop was alone, then rounded the
corner and approached him.
"Help you?" he said. Nothing to see here, move along.
"Henry Parker, New York Gazette. " I showed him my press
credentials. Might as well have been a slab of lemon, the way
his face scrunched up.
"Go on, get out of here."
"Something going on inside this building?" The cop locked
eyes with me, then spoke deliberately.
"You know you don't have a whole lot of fans in the law
enforcement community."
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37
I nodded. Even though charges had never been brought for
the murder of Officer John Fredrickson, if not for me he'd still
be alive. And even though he was dirty as sin, that was something no cop or Fed would ever forget.
"Crime scene is over on Thirteenth." He jerked his thumb
back where I'd come from. "You want a better view of the
crime scene, might I suggest walking to the middle of the
Brooklyn Bridge and then jumping off."
I laughed, pretended it didn't affect me. "I saw several
officers entering and exiting this site."
"You saw wrong."
"Officer..." I said, looking at his badge. "Officer
Lemansky. I know this is the building the killer shot Athena
Paradis from. You and I both know this