So that left her with the randomness of a street crime. An attempted robbery gone bad. Although, the victim’s wallet had not been taken, nor any of his rings…one of which had been a glaringly obvious diamond. Perhaps the perp had simply not had time once the witness had started screaming. But why rob a man in broad daylight, knowing you were risking being seen, only to come away with nothing to show for it?
And why waste time biting the man?
“I know that look,” Jimmy said from across their desks. “You’re thinking too hard.”
She and Jimmy sat across from each other, the fronts of their desks butted up against each other. It made it easier for them to pass files and notes to each other. Easier to talk and discuss their next plan of action.
“All right, here’s the thing…why the bite marks?”
“The vic just came across a perfect storm of bad luck. Some whack job attacks him, bites him, gives him a heart attack, and he dies. I’d get my heart rate up too if some clown had me in his mouth by the back of my neck.”
“Stella said this guy should have lived to see a hundred. That was how healthy his heart was. This doesn’t make sense to me!”
“It doesn’t make sense to me either, but crime never does make sense. Sometimes shit happens.”
“We need to attack the streets, see if anyone knows about a guy with cosmetically altered teeth doing robberies. It shouldn’t be all that hard to find him.”
“With only that as a descriptor?”
“We have the witness’s sketch.”
“Oh yeah. Like that’s going to help,” Jimmy said dryly.
He had a point. The witness’s sketch had turned out to be very generic in its way. The man was reasonably handsome, like Robert Redford in his younger years, the witness had said. In fact, the sketch was a dead ringer for Redford. It led Renee to believe that the woman had described Redford more than she’d described the perpetrator. She knew Jimmy felt the same way. But outside of the teeth, it was the only thing they had to go on.
They had caught people with less before, Renee told herself, trying to bolster her spirits.
“Let’s hit the streets,” she said, standing up and reaching to take her jacket off the back of her chair.
“In this mess?” Jimmy complained. “No one’s going to be out on the street in a storm like this.”
“Then we hit the shelters. We hit the bars. They will be full of people. Even weather like this doesn’t keep people from their alcohol.”
“We’re gonna freeze our asses off.”
“C’mon, Jimmy. Afraid of a little snow?” she dug at him. A few of the nearby detectives chuckled. Not because she was being particularly funny, she knew, but because Jimmy was beleaguered by the go-get-’em attitude of his partner. He was often teased for being saddled with her dogged personality.
Renee didn’t care what any of them thought. She knew that if a crime wasn’t solved in the first forty-eight hours it was likely to stay unsolved, so she went all out until the first few days had gone by. And even then she rarely let things go. But it was hard when new murders were constantly coming across her desk.
She pulled on her coat, checked her weapon, and looked at Jimmy expectantly. With a loud sigh he got out of his chair and into his coat.
They started with the shelters closest to the crime scene—St. James church being the first. It was one of the nicer shelters in town, and it was just a block over on Madison Avenue. They went in armed with their sketch and descriptions and met with immediate resistance. If these homeless knew who the attacker was, they weren’t talking. They had the same results at the next two shelters. So, they switched tactics and went to the bars. Here they dealt with a higher caliber of people. There were no dive bars on the Upper East Side—not in that section of Fifth Avenue, in any event.
“Yeah. I think I know him,” a woman at one of the bars said as she swiveled in her barstool to look at them. “This guy is a real looker. I don’t know about the teeth though. I’ve never seen anything like that about him, but this guy comes in here every so often. And I should know,” she said with a snort of laughter. “I’m here every night. I get off work and I come right down here. I like this place. It’s my favorite.”
“Are you sure this is the guy?” Renee asked, trying not to get too excited.
“Well, close enough anyway.”
“Do you know which nights he comes in here?”
“It’s completely random. I tell you what, if he comes in I’ll give you a call.”
“Great. Here’s my card. That’s my personal cell on there, so feel free to call anytime. If you remember more or if he comes in. Anytime.”
“Will do, Detective.” She smiled devilishly and gave Jimmy the once-over. “Can I get your number too, honey?” She winked. “Just in case the lady is too busy to pick up.”
“Sure,” Jimmy said with a wolfish grin. He handed his card to the barfly. “Call me as soon as you lay eyes on the guy.”
“Maybe sooner,” the woman flirted.
Jimmy only gave her his best charming smile, then they took their leave.
“A thief that frequents high-end bars?” she said once they were out of earshot of the bar patrons. “Maybe he chooses his marks here?”
“Must be. But it sounds like he fits too. She said he was handsome, well-dressed. Maybe the thing on the street was an act of desperation, rather than a well-planned attack. Maybe her guy isn’t our guy at all.”
“There’s too many maybes. We should see if he’s hit any other bars as well. Maybe he has a pattern and we can pick him up.”
“Yeah. Definitely too many maybes. Let’s check out a few more bars then we can call it a day. I don’t know about you, but I have plans for tonight.”
“In this storm, Jimmy? I thought you’d stay in with pizza delivery and a few hours of Call of Duty.”
“You’re exactly right. Only the girl from the floor beneath me is coming to play with me. In more ways than one.”
“Ugh! I don’t need the details of your sex life, Jimmy.”
“Sure you do. Maybe it’ll make you want to get one of your own.”
“How do you know I don’t have one of my own?” she asked him.
“I would know,” he said confidently. “You’re pretty easy to read.”
And why waste time biting the man?
“I know that look,” Jimmy said from across their desks. “You’re thinking too hard.”
She and Jimmy sat across from each other, the fronts of their desks butted up against each other. It made it easier for them to pass files and notes to each other. Easier to talk and discuss their next plan of action.
“All right, here’s the thing…why the bite marks?”
“The vic just came across a perfect storm of bad luck. Some whack job attacks him, bites him, gives him a heart attack, and he dies. I’d get my heart rate up too if some clown had me in his mouth by the back of my neck.”
“Stella said this guy should have lived to see a hundred. That was how healthy his heart was. This doesn’t make sense to me!”
“It doesn’t make sense to me either, but crime never does make sense. Sometimes shit happens.”
“We need to attack the streets, see if anyone knows about a guy with cosmetically altered teeth doing robberies. It shouldn’t be all that hard to find him.”
“With only that as a descriptor?”
“We have the witness’s sketch.”
“Oh yeah. Like that’s going to help,” Jimmy said dryly.
He had a point. The witness’s sketch had turned out to be very generic in its way. The man was reasonably handsome, like Robert Redford in his younger years, the witness had said. In fact, the sketch was a dead ringer for Redford. It led Renee to believe that the woman had described Redford more than she’d described the perpetrator. She knew Jimmy felt the same way. But outside of the teeth, it was the only thing they had to go on.
They had caught people with less before, Renee told herself, trying to bolster her spirits.
“Let’s hit the streets,” she said, standing up and reaching to take her jacket off the back of her chair.
“In this mess?” Jimmy complained. “No one’s going to be out on the street in a storm like this.”
“Then we hit the shelters. We hit the bars. They will be full of people. Even weather like this doesn’t keep people from their alcohol.”
“We’re gonna freeze our asses off.”
“C’mon, Jimmy. Afraid of a little snow?” she dug at him. A few of the nearby detectives chuckled. Not because she was being particularly funny, she knew, but because Jimmy was beleaguered by the go-get-’em attitude of his partner. He was often teased for being saddled with her dogged personality.
Renee didn’t care what any of them thought. She knew that if a crime wasn’t solved in the first forty-eight hours it was likely to stay unsolved, so she went all out until the first few days had gone by. And even then she rarely let things go. But it was hard when new murders were constantly coming across her desk.
She pulled on her coat, checked her weapon, and looked at Jimmy expectantly. With a loud sigh he got out of his chair and into his coat.
They started with the shelters closest to the crime scene—St. James church being the first. It was one of the nicer shelters in town, and it was just a block over on Madison Avenue. They went in armed with their sketch and descriptions and met with immediate resistance. If these homeless knew who the attacker was, they weren’t talking. They had the same results at the next two shelters. So, they switched tactics and went to the bars. Here they dealt with a higher caliber of people. There were no dive bars on the Upper East Side—not in that section of Fifth Avenue, in any event.
“Yeah. I think I know him,” a woman at one of the bars said as she swiveled in her barstool to look at them. “This guy is a real looker. I don’t know about the teeth though. I’ve never seen anything like that about him, but this guy comes in here every so often. And I should know,” she said with a snort of laughter. “I’m here every night. I get off work and I come right down here. I like this place. It’s my favorite.”
“Are you sure this is the guy?” Renee asked, trying not to get too excited.
“Well, close enough anyway.”
“Do you know which nights he comes in here?”
“It’s completely random. I tell you what, if he comes in I’ll give you a call.”
“Great. Here’s my card. That’s my personal cell on there, so feel free to call anytime. If you remember more or if he comes in. Anytime.”
“Will do, Detective.” She smiled devilishly and gave Jimmy the once-over. “Can I get your number too, honey?” She winked. “Just in case the lady is too busy to pick up.”
“Sure,” Jimmy said with a wolfish grin. He handed his card to the barfly. “Call me as soon as you lay eyes on the guy.”
“Maybe sooner,” the woman flirted.
Jimmy only gave her his best charming smile, then they took their leave.
“A thief that frequents high-end bars?” she said once they were out of earshot of the bar patrons. “Maybe he chooses his marks here?”
“Must be. But it sounds like he fits too. She said he was handsome, well-dressed. Maybe the thing on the street was an act of desperation, rather than a well-planned attack. Maybe her guy isn’t our guy at all.”
“There’s too many maybes. We should see if he’s hit any other bars as well. Maybe he has a pattern and we can pick him up.”
“Yeah. Definitely too many maybes. Let’s check out a few more bars then we can call it a day. I don’t know about you, but I have plans for tonight.”
“In this storm, Jimmy? I thought you’d stay in with pizza delivery and a few hours of Call of Duty.”
“You’re exactly right. Only the girl from the floor beneath me is coming to play with me. In more ways than one.”
“Ugh! I don’t need the details of your sex life, Jimmy.”
“Sure you do. Maybe it’ll make you want to get one of your own.”
“How do you know I don’t have one of my own?” she asked him.
“I would know,” he said confidently. “You’re pretty easy to read.”
