Should Have Looked Away (14 page)

BOOK: Should Have Looked Away
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TWENTY-NINE

It was the
next day.

‘You have a choice,’ Chrissy had said to Will earlier. ‘You can either stay at home and cook dinner, or go pick up Louise from her party.’

Will looked over at his wife as he scraped the remains of his breakfast into the waste disposal sink. ‘What’re we having for dinner?’

‘Up to you if you’re cooking.’

Will straightened up. ‘Well…’

‘McDonalds!’ Louise cried out. ‘McDonalds.’

‘No,’ Chrissy said firmly. ‘Not McDonalds. If Daddy’s cooking dinner, it’s going to be a proper meal. Not McDonalds, not pizza, not takeout. And not something you can nuke, either.’

‘I’ll do the party,’ Will grunted. ‘Where is it?’

Chrissy looked over at Louise. ‘Tell Daddy.’

‘It’s at Peyton’s house,’ Louise replied through a mouthful of waffle and syrup.

‘And where’s that?’ Will asked her.

Louise did not know, so Chrissy answered. ‘Off Bleeker. It’s not far. Easier to walk than use the car.’

‘Can we use the subway, Daddy?’

‘No, sweetie, you can’t,’ Chrissy replied. ‘Different line. Nice walk, though.’

Louise was disappointed. ‘Aw.’

At that point, Jake shuffled into the kitchen. Saying nothing, he poured himself a bowl of cereal, added some milk and sugar and began to eat.

Will, Chrissy and Louise paused their conversation to look at Jake; getting no response, they continued.

‘Don’t worry, honey,’ Will said. ‘It’s going to be a nice evening. We can take a walk through the park.’

‘And get some pretzels?’

Will sighed. ‘Yes, yes, and get some pretzels. That’s if you’re not full of party food.’

‘She won’t be,’ Jake mumbled, earning himself a glare from his younger sister.

‘Hurry up with your breakfast, you two,’ said Chrissy. ‘You need to get off to school presently.’

Will drained his coffee cup. ‘I need to get off too.’ He turned to Louise. ‘I’ll bring you home from the party, then. What time?’

‘It’s six,’ Chrissy told him. ‘So you need to be home in time. No trips to the Bronx or like that.’

Will pulled a face. ‘I’ll be home in time.’

*****

And Will was home in time. He made sure he left work at five, and headed directly to Louise’s party. With Chrissy’s directions, he was easily able to find Peyton’s house, which was in a small court off Bleeker Street. Partly because it was a mild evening, and partly because Will was reluctant to lose the parking space directly outside their door just for a short trip, he took Chrissy’s advice and walked. They headed up LaGuardia Place, Will walking and Louise skipping.

‘Was it a good party?’ Will asked.

‘It was awesome.’

‘Sure? What did you do?’

‘Peyton’s mommy and daddy did a sparkly treasure hunt. Well, it wasn’t her daddy.’

‘Oh?’

‘Peyton said he was her mommy’s best friend.’

‘Oh, I see. Where was her daddy?’

Louise pulled a face and shook her head.

‘Never mind. Tell me about the treasure hunt.’

Louise kept on skipping. ‘She had lots of pink envelopes all round the house with clues in.’

‘Yes? What sort of clues?’

‘Clues to find the treasure, of course.’

‘Of course. And what was the treasure?’

‘It was a big sparkly pink box with lots of sparkly things in it.’

‘Did you win it?’

‘No, I think Layla did.’

‘Lucky Layla. What else did you do?’

‘We watched Peyton open her presents, and then ate lots of cake.’

‘I guessed you would. Here we are: shall I get us some pretzels?’ They had arrived at Washington Square Park.

‘Yes please. No - I want some cotton candy. No - can I have ice cream?’

Will bought two ice creams and they wandered across the park and under the Washington Arch. Under the arch, a small crowd was watching a mime artist perform, with the white painted face, black beret and pants and black and white striped shirt. They paused for a few minutes until Louise lost interest then resumed their walk home.

‘So, who else was at the party?’

‘Peyton was there.’

‘Obviously. Who else?’

‘I was. So was Peyton, Autumn, Amiyal…’

‘And…?’

Louise thought for a few seconds then said, ‘Troy was.’

‘But Troy’s a boy. Were there any other boys there?’

‘Don’t think so.’

‘Lucky Troy, I think,’ Will muttered.

‘I guess you’re not hungry,’ he asked as they paused at the crossing on Avenue of the Americas.

She looked up at him. ‘No way. I’m ready for dinner now.’

‘But you’ve had party food, cake and ice cream. Surely you can’t be hungry.’

‘I am. The food at the party was a snack.’

He shook his head in resignation as they continued up Waverly.

‘It was a very good party,’ Louise carried on chattering. ‘Peyton’s mommy’s best friend has a very big house and it has three floors. And a big yard out back.  She has… Daddy, are you listening?’

She tugged at his sleeve but he still gave her no response. Will stood on the corner of Waverly and Christopher Streets, staring open mouthed over to the other side.

Not believing what he saw.

THIRTY

'Which
Precinct are
we headed for?’ Alvarez asked, as he and Roberts pulled away from their own station house.

‘Carter said he followed the suspect to 182
nd
,’ Roberts replied. ‘Then he apparently headed north. 183
rd
is the boundary between 46
th
and 52
nd
Precincts. Assuming the guy headed past 183
rd
, then that comes under the 52
nd
. Which is good.’

‘How so? Do you know anybody up there?’

Roberts chuckled. ‘Yes, I do. The Lieutenant - a guy going under the name of Dobson - and I are kind of old friends.’

‘You partnered him?’

‘You could say that,’ she replied enigmatically.

Alvarez looked over at his partner, saying nothing.

Roberts steered the car crosstown and made a left into Central Park West; now they were headed Uptown, soon passing Central Park on their left. Alvarez noticed his partner was smiling.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

The smile left her face and she frowned. ‘What’s what?’

‘You were smiling. What’s the joke?’

‘No joke. I was just thinking.’

‘About what?’

She shook her head and sighed, pulling out around a tour bus which had stopped outside one of the Park entrances.

‘Nothing really; I was just thinking about Paulie Dobson, that’s all.’

Alvarez looked ahead, saying nothing.

‘We just had some fun times together,’ she added.

‘When you were partners?’

‘Yes, Eric. When we were partners.’

She said nothing more on the subject. After a few moments’ silence, Alvarez spoke. Now they were crossing the Cathedral Parkway traffic circle on 110
th
Street, leaving Central Park behind them. The Bobby Womack song ran through Alvarez’s head as they passed 110
th
: he had no idea why; maybe the movie had been on television recently.

‘So, what’s the plan when we get there?’

Roberts cleared her throat. ‘It’s basically a matter of getting some identification on this guy, then finding him.’

‘But NCIC drew a blank.’

‘I know, but all their facial recognition technology is all very well: what we have is based on Carter’s description from memory. The guy was wearing a hood, and it was night, with no streetlights. So, it might not be that accurate. But I’ll ask Paulie to get the likeness out to all his patrol cars; hopefully somebody there will say, “Yeah, he looks like a guy I know”, and then we have something to work on.’

Now they were in the middle of Harlem. No longer on Central Park West, they were now travelling along Frederick Douglass Boulevard. Named after the celebrated African-American social reformer, abolitionist and statesman, it is sometimes unofficially referred to as Eighth Avenue, this corridor was reallocated in the early part of the century, resulting in the construction of large density residential buildings, and the construction of condominiums, rental buildings, restaurants and cafés Previously described as being like Detroit on account of its urban blight, it is now gentrified, especially in the restaurants along its route, giving it the nickname
Restaurant Row
.

‘That would be good,’ Alvarez remarked.

‘You bet your pay check it would be,’ Roberts countered. ‘Look at all the hours we’re spending on this case. The suspects were in full view of the security cameras in the mall, but had enough balls to cover their faces in the right way. What likeness we do have doesn’t show up on any databases. Which means they’re not known to us, meaning they’re either very lucky, or newbies. But these guys are so
professional
. And if they are newbies -’

‘Somebody’s coaching them.’

‘That’s what I figure. So we need to make some progress here. If we don’t, then we’ll have to do what Nkomo said, and look into DiMucci’s own background. Now that doesn’t
feel
right to me, and I don’t want to waste my time screwing around in Jersey. We need a result here, so we can spend time on the other cases we have. This isn’t supposed to be the primary, remember?’

Alvarez nodded. Now they had turned right along Macombs Place headed for the bridge over the Harlem River, and into the Bronx. ‘Where are we headed here?’ he asked.

‘The station house is on Webster,’ Roberts explained. ‘Not far from the zoo. We’re nearly there.’

She was right.  The headquarters of the 52
nd
Precinct is a terracotta brick building in a Tuscan Villa architectural style. Completed in 1906, it is across the street from the boundaries of the Botanical Gardens. The imposing structure boasts three floors, ornately carved timber roof gables, and a matching 21-foot clock tower with a large polychrome terracotta clock face on three sides. The main building is used as the primary command of the Precinct, and there is also a stable of the same design which is used as a garage. The building was registered as a historic landmark in 1982.

Roberts drove through the narrow space between the two terracotta posts and parked at the side of the lot, between two patrol cars. A uniformed officer appeared as if from nowhere and began to challenge her, stopping once she showed her badge. He saluted and directed her to the main door. Once inside the lobby, Roberts sent a text message. A minute later a tall slim man with cropped red hair appeared at the top of the stairs.

‘Why, Detective Roberts!’ he called out, walking down the flight of stairs. ‘What kept you?’

‘Your lousy traffic management kept me,’ she retorted.

‘Not my area, Julie,’ Dobson laughed, leaning down to peck her on the cheek. Alvarez raised his eyebrows.

‘This is my partner, Eric Alvarez,’ she said to Dobson by way of introduction.

The two men shook hands. ‘Pleased to meet you, Eric,’ Dobson said. ‘And you have my sympathy, working with her.’

Alvarez smiled weakly.

Roberts turned to her partner. ‘Take no notice. He’s full of it.’

‘And she should know,’ said Dobson. ‘You want to follow me upstairs?’

They followed Dobson up to his second floor office, both accepting his offer of coffee, but declining the offer of prune Danish. As they sat down, Roberts passed a copy of the likeness to Dobson.

‘This is the face,’ she said. ‘Not perfect by any means, but he was hooded and it was night.’

Dobson put on a pair of glasses and stared at the face. He sniffed and looked up. ‘Means nothing to me. No match anywhere?’

Roberts shook her head. ‘Nothing with NYPD, or on NCIC. I was hoping one of yours might recognise the face.’

‘Why up here?’

‘He was last seen around 182
nd
.’

‘182
nd
? But that’s the 46
th
.’

‘I know, Paulie; but the witness said he was running uptown, so I figured -’

‘You figured you had a reason to come and see me. I know, any excuse.’

Roberts sighed. ‘I figured we’d come and see you first, as he seemed to be headed up here. If we get no success here, then we’ll go to the 46
th
.’

Dobson sat down behind his desk. He tapped the desktop with the picture. ‘
I
don’t know him, but I’ll get this sent out. One of the detectives or patrolmen might.’

‘That would be great, Paulie. Thanks.’

‘Give me five minutes. Help yourselves to coffee,’ said Dobson, leaving them in his office.

As he left, Alvarez asked, ‘So you and he were partners.’

‘U-huh,’ she said, adding, ‘A long time ago.’

Presently, Dobson returned, dropping heavily into his black leather chair. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I’ve sent this out to everyone.’

‘So it’s just a matter of waiting,’ Alvarez said quietly.

Dobson nodded. He looked at Roberts. ‘So Julie, how have you been? Are you -?’

Roberts cut in. ‘Very busy, yes. Lots to do. And as I was saying to Eric on the way up here, we need to get a result on this one. It’s taking up a disproportionate amount of time.’

Dobson snorted a laugh. ‘Same old Julie.’

Roberts glared at him. ‘Look, Paulie; I’m really grateful for your help in this, but I don’t want to waste your time just sitting here for hours. What say we leave this with you and you call me if one of your officers makes an ID?’

Dobson opened his mouth to reply, but his desk phone rang. He picked up and listened. After a few moments he said, ‘Yes, do that. Yes.’

Roberts was just about to stand to go, but sat back down when Dobson gestured to her.

‘Well, Julie, Eric,’ he said. ‘It looks like you’re in luck. One of my patrolmen has made an ID.’

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