Page 84 of Crosshairs
I ducked a wild right hand and immediately threw a low kick, hoping to take out his knee.
Nash lifted his leg, so I struck his lower leg, his prosthesis made of titanium. The shock that went through my system was incredible. It was like someone had hit me with a TASER on the foot. I limped back a few feet and decided to take another tack. I said in a loud voice, “Is this what you want to do? Fight a cop doing his job?”
That brought Nash up short. He just stared at me for a moment. Then he shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t want to fight you. I just want to get away. Considering all the help I’ve given the NYPD the last few months, I think you might let me go.”
“You’ve misread the situation. And me. You’re wrong. Nobody appreciates what you’ve done the last few months.”
“The cops and courts aren’t doing anything to help people. Killers are let out on bond. No one cares when poor people have their money stolen by fraudsters. I still think you’ll let me walk. I’ll even leave my rifle over there.” Nash turned his back to me.
He’d made a decent point. It’s tough to be a cop. I got it. I still only let Nash take two steps before I tackled him. When I tried toyank his wrist behind his back so I could cuff him, Nash did a little spin move on the ground and we ended up face-to-face again. Then he bit me on the hand.
Before I could react to the bite, he headbutted me. My nose started to pour blood. Then Nash squirmed out of my grip. He took two steps toward the rifle on the ground, but I was able to reach out, grab his ankle, and yank him back toward me.
He was strong and I was a little woozy. I needed help but couldn’t reach my phone. We grappled like wrestlers until somehow I found my arms around Nash with my hands locked behind his head in a modified full nelson.
Once Nash had stopped struggling in the powerful hold, I looked up and saw FBI ASAC Robert Lincoln step around the pile of debris where Nash had hidden. Lincoln had a nasty gash on his head and blood had soaked into his white shirt. He turned away and I heard him say in a calm voice, “I’ve got eyes on Bennett. He’s got Nash.”
As Lincoln took control of Nash and cuffed him, I sat on a toolbox to catch my breath.
A few seconds later, Rob Trilling stepped around the same pile of debris, cradling the AR-15 Lincoln had given him. He took in the scene with Nash lying face down on the shale-rock ground and me sitting a few feet away. Trilling looked at me and said with a deadpan delivery, “See? I told you I wasn’t the shooter.”
CHAPTER 107
AS SOON AS we took Darnell Nash into custody, I wondered when politics might jump up and slap me in the face. I was surprised that Robert Lincoln didn’t object when I announced we needed to take Nash to One Police Plaza to be interviewed. In fact, the FBI ASAC asked if he could come along.
The NYPD headquarters houses some operational units as well as most of the administrative offices. It’s not set up for prisoners or interviews, but I figured this would qualify as a special circumstance. It wasn’t hard to slip in through a back door with the prisoner and commandeer an empty office.
Rob Trilling made sure Nash was comfortable. He grabbed him a bottle of water and a package of crackers with peanut butter. Usually officers try to be aware of prisoners’ needs. It can come back to haunt a detective later if the prisoner complains about being mistreated and giving a confession under duress. Inthis case, I thought it was one military veteran looking after another, no matter what the circumstances.
Lincoln took a seat in the corner while Trilling and I sat in sturdy metal chairs across a table from Nash. Lincoln had been very good about accepting the fact that the NYPD was the lead on this case. The fact that the suspect was an FBI employee didn’t even come up. This guy was surprising me at every turn today.
We got some background and read Nash his Miranda rights. He didn’t try to deny anything. I wasn’t a psychotherapist. I didn’t want to get into the reasons why he did what he did.
After a few minutes, I asked, “Are there other victims we’re not aware of?”
Nash didn’t answer immediately. Then he shook his head.
“So Marie Ballard was your first victim?”
He nodded.
“And the antifa activist your last one?”
That made Nash laugh. “There’s no way I’d ever consider that scumbag a victim. He tried to murder two cops by burning them. Have you seen his rap sheet? Domestic violence, arson, theft. I’m sure his parents are proud.”
Nash looked directly at Trilling. “Sorry I shifted the blame to you by planting that casing in your car. I knew why you’d been called back to the NYPD. I also realized your background would make you a tempting suspect. I hated doing it to a fellow vet. I apologize.”
Trilling didn’t say anything. He gave Nash a little nod.
Nash said, “I was so tired of not contributing. After the Marines, everything seemed sort of pointless. This gave me a sense of accomplishment. I know you all think I’m a nut and you can’t believe I’d do something like this, but you’ll see I was right.When we start letting people get away with crimes so easily, society goes to hell.”
Nash said, “I didn’t realize that was Joe Tavarez earlier today. Joe was like a brother to me. I saw movement by the car and realized I’d stepped into a trap. I was just trying to get away. I knew if I shot someone, it’d throw the whole operation into chaos, and I could slip away. It hasn’t hit me yet that I shot my best friend.” He looked down and shook his head. “I’ll never be able to look Cindy in the eye again. Hell, the list of things I’ll never do again is really long.”
He turned and glanced at Robert Lincoln behind him in the corner. Then he looked back at both of us. “Any chance you could leave me alone in here for a while? It’ll save the taxpayers a lot of money and me a lot of embarrassment.”
I shook my head. After all the time I’d spent on this case and all the heartache I’d gone through, I couldn’t believe I actually felt kinda sorry for this guy. He was rational enough to know he’d ruined his life along with so many others.
I felt a little sad being in on the interview. I wished we could save a veteran like this. Smart, educated, and dedicated. Maybe a little too dedicated. It is times like this when I wish I had more answers.