Page 12 of Crosshairs

Trilling looked at the corner of one house and the thick bushes all around it. “The sniper fired from right there, under the bushes.”

I looked and didn’t see anything specific. “Okay, you’re going to have to explain that one to me.”

“Because that’s where I would’ve shot from. This house is empty.”

I hadn’t even noticed.

“There’s a clear view to the victim’s house, but no one would see the shooter. He could have been lying under those bushes for hours. And a single shot fired is very difficult to locate just by the sound.” Trilling’s head swiveled in every direction. “Really, there’s nowhere else the sniper could’ve shot from.”

I looked up and down the street and decided to take Trilling’s word for it.

CHAPTER 15

AN HOUR LATER, Rob Trilling did almost the exact same thing when looking from the balcony of Adam Glossner’s apartment. The doorman, whom I’d already interviewed, had walked us up to the apartment but refused to come inside. He believed the apartment had bad karma and he didn’t want it rubbing off on him. Victoria Glossner and the children were still at her mother’s place.

Trilling stood on the balcony as I explained what the forensics people had told me about how they thought the body had fallen into the apartment. Trilling leaned on the railing. He pointed to a building down the street to the north, just visible from the balcony. The little curve in the road gave the other building a perfect view of this balcony.

Trilling pointed and said, “The killer shot from that building. Probably from the second or third floor.”

“Again, you’re going to have to walk me through your reasoning,” I said. “I interviewed an elderly man in that building who thought he heard a gunshot the night Glossner was murdered. He couldn’t tell me much else.”

Trilling took me a little too literally and we left the apartment and started walking to the building. I don’t know why I was still a little skeptical after my new partner’s impressive review of the first crime scene. Once again, he didn’t say anything as we walked toward the building. When I thought about it, I realized he didn’t say much most of the time.

When we walked up to the front of the building, I was surprised to find the door propped open by a stool. There was no doorman. I called out but got no answer. Trilling walked right past me to the stairs and went up to the second floor. It was almost like he was in a trance.

I followed my partner up the concrete stairs to the second floor. He turned and walked to the front corner of the building and didn’t hesitate to knock on the door of apartment 2A.

When we got no answer, Trilling tried the door handle and found it unlocked. Before I could even object, he’d opened the door and stepped inside.

The place was completely empty. Not even any furniture.

Trilling walked through the apartment to the balcony. The sliding-glass door was open an inch. He grasped the door high up on the frame, in case there was any forensic material we could get from the door handle, and slid it back.

As soon as he stepped onto the balcony and looked toward Adam Glossner’s apartment, Trilling said, “This is definitely where the shot was taken.”

I stepped out onto the balcony behind him but couldn’tpicture exactly what he was talking about. I could see the building where the Glossners lived, but I didn’t understand how Trilling was so certain the shot had come from here.

Then we heard a sharp voice from behind us, in the apartment. I turned to see a heavyset, middle-aged man holding a bucket. It had to be the super.

In a thick Russian accent he said, “The realtor has to show the apartment. You can’t just walk in.”

I badged him and identified myself.

The Russian superintendent said, “That badge don’t give you no right to walk in any apartment you want.”

“We tried to find someone when we entered the building. Your front door was propped open.”

“Don’t give me no excuses. I hate the cops. You guys don’t do nothing.”

Trilling turned to the man and said, “This is a crime scene. You’re going to step out of this apartment and wait until we’re done processing the scene. Your shitty security allowed someone to enter in here and shoot someone in the building down the street. That’s on you. So you can take your attitude and shove it up your ass. We’ve got a job to do.”

I knew I was smiling as I stared at my new partner, but I couldn’t help it.

We didn’t wait long for the Crime Scene Unit, but unfortunately they didn’t find much to help us. They couldn’t find any fingerprints on the doors. They took some DNA swabs but weren’t hopeful.

I turned to Trilling and said, “Let’s start putting together a list of potential snipers and see if any tips came in from the hotline.”

Trilling said, “I have an appointment.”