Page 5 of Crosshairs
I held up my hands and said, “Excuse me, Mr. Cronin, but we’re not here about fraud. We’re in a homicide unit. A man across the street was shot from somewhere around here. The killer used a rifle.”
“Yes, yes, yes, I know. I was just trying to give you some bonus information as well.”
“Do you have any information at all about the shooting?”
“Aside from hearing the shot before I fell asleep last night, I don’t know anything.”
“You’re sure you heard a gunshot?”
“You’re too young to remember this, but we used to have a draft in this country. I did two years in the Army and heard plenty of gunfire. I know the sound of a high-powered rifle when I hear it. There are no car backfires anymore. There were no sonic booms. Just a single gunshot, not long before I fell asleep. Probably around 10:15 or 10:30.”
“Did you investigate the source of the gunshot?”
“Why on earth would I do that? I don’t have a gun. What happens if I find a man with a gun? I doubt you’re the right man to look into the fraud of this building anyway. Investigate the gunshot.” Mr. Cronin just shook his head as I finished up my notes.
CHAPTER 7
AFTER THE CRIME scene was secured and I’d done all I could to talk to relevant witnesses, I headed to the office. I knew there’d be a lot of questions from my bosses, and I had names and information I wanted to pass on to our squad’s criminal intelligence analyst. His name is Walter Jackson, and he’s an absolute wizard with computer databases. Give Walter a name and a few minutes, he can tell you every neighbor they’ve ever had as well as their cell phone carrier, their main bank, and what credit card they use.
I took the elevator up in the unmarked building that housed Manhattan North Homicide. It had been my home within the NYPD for so long I couldn’t imagine reporting to a precinct or to One Police Plaza.
It’s always comforting to see my lieutenant, Harry Grissom, sitting in his office with the door open. He oversees three staffassistants, two criminal intelligence analysts, and nine detectives, plus a rotating group of detectives trying to get broader experience. And he does it all without losing his temper, getting frustrated, or being petty. In short, Harry Grissom is an awesome boss.
I gave Harry a quick run-down on what I’d learned.
Harry stared at me across his desk without saying a word. It lasted maybe five seconds, but it felt like a week. This is why I never play in Harry’s poker games. He seems like he’d be unbeatable.
Absently smoothing his mustache, Harry asked in a quiet tone, “How did the wife seem?”
“The usual. Distraught, near shock. She answered a few questions before her mother swooped in and told me I could talk to her later.”
“Did she say anything useful?”
“I did get an odd vibe. It’s hard to describe. It’s more about what she didn’t say. It felt like she wasn’t telling me everything about their current circumstances. I don’t know if it was a marital strain or something else. But I’ll have it in my head if I need to talk to her again.”
“You think she was unhappy with her husband and figured a way to have someone shoot him, do you?”
“I don’t think so. But maybe. I guess it’s possible. Although it did cross my mind that if someone was really smart, they could use the cover of the sniper to have a person shot from a long distance. But I don’t think that’s the case here.”
Harry gave me a folder with some information on the other two homicides involving the sniper. Harry said, “I heard someone call the shooter ‘the Longshot Killer.’ I guess that’s as good a nickname as any.”
Harry told me to grab the complete reports off the computer and said I could consider myself the lead detective on all three cases. That might not make me too popular with the other homicide detectives already working them, but I knew better than to say anything. Harry doesn’t much care for whining or complaints. His philosophy is simple:We’ve got a job to do, so let’s go do it.
Frankly, it does make the work environment here in our off-site office much more pleasant without people bitching constantly about everything.
Harry said, “What kind of help do you need? Besides the usual analytical assistance and help with interviews?”
“I’m glad you asked. As I was standing on the balcony where the victim was shot, I realized I don’t know much about snipers. I’m pretty good with figuring out trajectories and bullet wounds inflicted from a drive-by a few feet away, but these long-distance angles and the whole sniper mindset is new to me. Do you think we’ve got anyone who can help me with that sort of stuff?”
Harry chuckled. Or as close to a chuckle as he ever came. “Mike, this is the NYPD. We got someone who can help you build a plane. Leave it to me.”
CHAPTER 8
LESS THAN AN hour later, Harry Grissom forwarded an email to the whole squad. Someone new was going to be around the office for a while. Command staff was sending over Rob Trilling, a sniper from the Emergency Service Unit, to help me on the case. He’d be on temporary duty until we made an arrest, or until I didn’t need him anymore. That was about all I could ask for.
As a trained investigator, I like to have as much information as possible before I start anything new. That includes knowing who I’m working with. As soon as I had the chance, I went over to Walter Jackson to get the scoop on this sniper from ESU.
As I stepped into Walter’s office, he turned his computer screen slightly so I could see a photograph of a mountain with someone working at the top of it.