Page 31 of Crosshairs
Trilling whispered to me, “He’s holding a leash. Make sure there’s not a dog that could surprise us.”
I appreciated Trilling’s sense for detail. He wasn’t wrong. But somehow I didn’t see a German shepherd jumping out from behind the steps at us. Still, we approached carefully.
I smiled and gave a wave to the man as we approached. I said in sort of a loud voice, “Hello. How are you today?”
The man nodded and said, “Pretty fair, today. That’s not the way it always is.”
Trilling casually leaned around the steps to see what was at the end of the leash. Then he jumped back a foot.
It was the first time I’d seen Trilling agitated and it was obvious in his voice. He said, “That’s not a dog. That’s the biggest rat I’ve ever seen in my life.”
The homeless man started to cackle. He pulled on the leash. I was astonished to see a huge rat scurry out onto the sidewalk. The leash ended in a harness that went around the rat’s back and chest. It was probably made for a Chihuahua or poodle, but it seemed to fit this super rodent pretty well.
The homeless man reached down and stroked the rat. It was clear the rat enjoyed it, and it snuggled up closer to the man’s leg. The man said, “Nothing to be afraid of, Nigel.”
Trilling said, “You named a giant rat Nigel?”
“I originally was going to name him Cecil, but it just didn’t sound right for a rat.”
I wasn’t sure if the homeless man was just having fun with Trilling. Either way, it was good for someone from Bozeman, Montana, to get a different view of New York.
I asked the man if he knew where the gym was, and he pointed to the building across the street. We were making progress. When I saw how closed off the building was, I decided to show the man Wendy Robinson’s photo. I had her New York driver’s license photo and the description from the tipster who’d said she was tall and athletic-looking. The man nodded and said, “She’s in there most days. But she’s done something with her hair. It looks funny now.”
I chatted with the man for a few minutes, partly as a way to conduct surveillance without drawing attention but mostly because I was interested.
The man said, “You know all those sad stories about businessmen who lost everything or veterans who ended up on the street?”
Both Trilling and I nodded.
“I ain’t none of that. I started drinking beer and really liked it. When I was twenty-eight, I got a job at the port, then hurt my back. The pills they gave me mixed pretty good with beer, and I discovered I had no interest in going back to lifting heavy things off boats. A year later I’m living with my mom. Two years after that she kicked me out. I’ve been on the street sixteen years. No rules, no one telling me what to do, and no schedule. Aside from freezing my ass off in the winter, I do all right. Me and Nigel are making it together.”
When I looked up from the homeless man, I noticed a woman coming out the side door of the boxing gym. She fit the general description of Wendy Robinson except her hair was dyed red and blue. There was some white on the tips in the back. Then I realized she was trying to wear a US flag as a hairstyle.
Trilling noticed her at the same time as I did. I stood up andreached in my pocket to find any loose bills to give the homeless man. Before I could come up with a five, I noticed Trilling hand the man a ten-dollar bill.
My new partner was starting to make me smile more and more.
CHAPTER 39
WENDY ROBINSON HAD a fast stride. Even at six foot three, I had to scramble to catch up to her. A detective learns early in his career not to call after someone. Especially someone who could be a suspect. If I shouted,Hey, Wendy Robinson, I need to talk to you!she could easily break into a sprint and I might never see her again.
It was Rob Trilling who made the smart move. He called out, “Sergeant Robinson, is that you?”
The woman stopped and turned. I saw she had a pretty noticeable shiner on one eye. “Do I know you?”
Trilling said, “I’m Rob Trilling, 75th Ranger Regiment.”
“Nice to meet you, but how did you know who I was?”
Trilling pulled his badge from the inside pocket of his windbreaker. “I’m with the NYPD now. I was wondering if you had a few minutes to talk to us.”
“What’s this about?” She tensed, then looked up the street to see if anyone was closing in on her.
It made me think we might be on the right track. The little action of turning her head and bending her knees told me she was thinking about running. That meant she was a legit suspect.
Trilling said, “We have a few questions about your rifle skills we’d like to ask you.”
That had a profound effect on the former Army sergeant. Instead of looking to flee, she turned to face us fully and said, “Ask away.”