Page 88 of Crosshairs
I looked at Trilling and he understood my question instantly.
“They’re the women from the heroin operation in the Bronx. I went to their immigration hearing after we busted that William Hackford asshole who shot at us. They were going to send them to some sort of facility unless someone agreed to take responsibility and sponsor them.”
“And that someone was you?”
Trilling just shrugged.
“I hope you understand that with ten kids still at home, I can’t take any of them.”
“That’s not what I was asking. We’re actually getting along allright. The girls know to be careful when they leave, and George, the super, thinks it’s just one girl living here. They all look similar enough that he thinks they’re all the same person. They’re on a walking routine so each of them gets out of the house for at least an hour a day and they keep the place absolutely spotless.”
“So this is why you were so vague about your alibi. And why you never wanted me coming inside.”
Trilling nodded.
“And it was one of these young ladies who told me you weren’t home, and when I tried to get more information, she cut my fingers with a knife.”
Trilling cringed a little. He looked at the woman in the kitchen. “Ayesha told me about that. I figured it was you. She speaks the best English of any of them. But they’re all improving every day.”
I looked toward the tiny kitchen. The young woman working at the counter waved at me with a paring knife in her hand. She had a big smile. I didn’t know if it was a smile of apology or a smile telling me never to come near her again.
Trilling introduced me to the other women, who all had Pakistani names except the youngest. She called herself “Katie.” I didn’t ask why.
Trilling explained his biggest problem was the cramped living quarters and that he was running out of money buying food for everyone. It took one call to my grandfather to find some agencies willing to help out with the food.
Trilling told me he didn’t mind if the women stayed with him a while longer. He felt like their brother taking care of them.
I realized just how happy I was that we were able to figure out the sniper case and keep a conscientious young man like this out of trouble.
CHAPTER 113
FINALLY FRIDAY NIGHT had arrived. Jane’s world debut as an orator. It had taken a near-Herculean effort to get everyone ready on time and dressed appropriately. Part of it was because it’d been since Mary Catherine’s and my wedding that everyone dressed in their finest clothes, and the kids, especially the youngest ones, seemed to have been using some sort of special growth hormone.
Basically, everyone wore some version of their Sunday church clothes. Ricky’s blue blazer from Holy Name had undergone a slight alteration—Mary Catherine had carefully removed the emblem from the front pocket. The blazers were only for special occasions at school, so we weren’t worried about putting it back together anytime soon.
Columbia University’s main campus is located in the Morningside Heights neighborhood, bordering Harlem above theUpper West Side. Jane had been with the other speakers at Havemeyer Hall since about five o’clock. I was excited about her speaking in this particular venue because it was the most filmed classroom in the world, showing up in movies likeSpider-ManandGhostbusters. And on more TV shows than I could count.
The historic hall was four stories of classic stone and brickwork. The classroom’s interior had a much more modern feel. The hardwood paneling reminded me of a courtroom, with a gallery super-sized to hold hundreds of people.
We stuck together in the lobby while we waited to catch a glimpse of Jane. People were coming and going in all directions. I kept a close eye on Shawna and Chrissy. Mary Catherine called everyone together like a quarterback in a football huddle. She spoke in a low voice, but there wasn’t one kid there who didn’t understand exactly what she was saying.
“No video games, no loud talking, and no whining.” All the kids nodded. Mary Catherine added, “And have a good time.” She looked up at me and Seamus and gave us a wink.
Jane came through with a group of other young people. She stopped for a moment and spoke to her brothers and sisters. She gave Mary Catherine a hug and blew me a kiss from across the crowd. She smiled and gave my grandfather a thumbs-up. He returned it enthusiastically.
As we turned and the first set of kids started to file into the lecture hall, I had to take a deep breath.
My grandfather slapped me on the back and said, “You okay, boyo?”
“Great. Trying to ground myself so I don’t look like a fool. I’m just so proud of all these kids.”
“Now you know how I felt so many times with you. Frombasketball games to the NYPD academy graduation, I know exactly what you mean.”
I couldn’t believe the compliment my grandfather had just given me. It made the wave of emotion that much more intense.
The twelve of us filled up an entire row with only one empty seat left over at the far end. I heard some of the comments from other people about the size of our family. Nothing I wasn’t used to. We were pretty remarkable.
The first three student speakers were from different high schools across the city. Two of them talked about the environment and what we needed to do to save the Earth. One young man from Regis High School talked about the benefits of volunteering in the city and all the opportunities the work can bring.