The Guilty Part 7

The straw fell from Paulina's mouth. A smile spread over her lips. Mya Loverne. Paulina knew that after his acquittal, Henry had broken up with Mya for a new airhead named Amanda Davies. Tossing aside his former love. Apparently, the goods weren't so happy to be tossed aside.

Paulina had despised Henry Parker the moment she met him. Given a cushy job by Wallace Langston despite the experience of a fetus. And to top it off, the court jester himself, Jack O'Donnell, took the kid under his wing. Paulina had sweat blood and tears over her ink for years, and Henry was being groomed as the heir apparent. The newsman of the twenty-first century whose b.a.l.l.s had barely dropped.

And either directly or subversively, Paulina swore to be the wrecking ball that tore it all down. And if she happened to take down the Gazette Gazette with it, h.e.l.l, that wouldn't be such with it, h.e.l.l, that wouldn't be such a bad morning.

"James, you just made my coffee taste better."

"Oh, that's swell, Miss Cole, and again I hope you know how much I appreciate your trusting me with this a.s.signment. I'm...wait, Parker's moving. I'll call you back when I get anything new."

83."You do that, Jamesy, you do that."

"Hey, Miss Cole?" James said apprehensively. "Do you think I can file expense reports for my breakfast? The bagels at this place are like three bucks each."

"Not a chance, Jamesy. Talk to you later." She hung up.

15.

I rounded the corner and saw him standing at a street vendor, paying for coffee and a m.u.f.fin and waiting for change.

"Make that two coffees," I said.

"My friend here will take his with twelve sugars," Curt Sheffield said.

The vendor looked at me like I'd asked for a side of pork loin. "That's a lot of sugar, man."

"Three Splendas," I said. "I thought cops weren't allowed to lie."

"That's to suspects and witnesses. Not reporters. In fact, that's encouraged."

Curt took his change. I watched in awe as he inhaled the m.u.f.fin in three bites.

"I think I've seen the same thing happen with boa constrictors. I bet if I look closely I can see a m.u.f.fin-shaped protrusion in your uniform."

"Lay off, I haven't eaten since breakfast. You know at first I liked the idea of being the NYPD's poster boy, but you can't catch a break on the streets. Parents introducing their kids to me like I'm walking around in a Mickey Mouse costume or something."

85."If Mickey carried a loaded Glock." He licked the crumbs from his fingers. "And aren't you guys supposed to eat donuts?"

Curtis sipped his coffee, wiped some crumbs from his mouth. He nodded, said, "Let's go," through a mouthful, and led me down the block. It was a cool afternoon, the streets lined with people preparing for the commute home.

"So tell me about the note," I said.

"What, no foreplay?"

"Not when two people have been killed."

"That's our job to deal with," Sheffield said. "You write about it, remember? That s.h.i.+t last year don't make you d.i.c.k Tracy."

"You're right, but you also know I'm one of the few guys in this town who'll give you a fair shake."

Curt sipped his coffee. "Word is Harvey Hillerman is hard up on Wallace to raise circulation. Says the Dispatch Dispatch is is growing and you're shrinking worse than my old man after joining the polar bear club."

Harvey Hillerman was the owner of the Gazette, Gazette, and perpetually at war with the tabloid tactics of the other papers in and perpetually at war with the tabloid tactics of the other papers in town. But it was hard to keep the public's interest with payroll scandals when the Dispatch Dispatch could just take a shot of Athena could just take a shot of Athena Paradis in a bikini, slap it on the front page and match your circulation rate.

"It's not my job to worry about Hillerman."

"It's your job to make sure you have a job, paisan. paisan. " "

"You know you're black, right?"

"What, paisan paisan is reserved for Italians? Screw that." is reserved for Italians? Screw that."

We walked toward Sixth Avenue.

"So what have you got?" I asked.

"Well, the ballistics report came back. I'll tell you, the pressure on Perez is unreal. Costas Paradis is watching every move he makes with a magnifying gla.s.s, and he's holding that 86.gla.s.s up to the sun. Man's got eyes and ears from every lawmaker to every sewer grate in the city."

"His daughter was killed, what do you expect?"

"Carruthers has inst.i.tuted mandatory overtime every day this week," Sheffield continued. "They have undercovers staking out every major nightclub, patrolmen inspecting every rooftop within line of sight. They have us watching any celebrity that goes anywhere after midnight. Problem is we don't know what we're looking for. Not to mention we're all watching our backs after Joe got killed."

I looked at the ground.

"Don't let it get to you. Guys in the department don't hold a grudge for the most part. And the guys that do hold grudges are all old school, the kind the department keeps on a tight leash because they might have had ties to Mike DiForio's crew. Carruthers knows Fredrickson was dirty, that he was taking money from that Tony Soprano wannabe. Until DiForio got barbecued, that is."

"When you say guys don't hold a grudge 'for the most part,' what's that, like fifty percent? Ninety?"

Sheffield toed the cement. Then he looked at me. "Not gonna lie, bro, there's definitely some bad blood. Fredrickson might have been dirty, but he went back a long way. The bad ones always have friends and there are always other people who covered their a.s.ses. Joe Mauser, though, he was a good cop. It's just a c.u.mulative effect of what's happened to that family."

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Me? s.h.i.+t. I wouldn't be here right now if I held a grudge.

Fact is, city needs you on this story a whole lot more than it needs you digging up celebrity tampons to pad Hillerman's bottom line. Plus I like your stuff. Tired of reading news 87.reports that read like they were written by f.u.c.kers who are stuck on typewriters and Geritol."

"I appreciate that."

"Appreciate it in private. I'm happy to give you dirt so it doesn't end up in Cole's witch cauldron. But after this, I gotta be a ghost, man."

I waited for him to continue.

"So ballistics confirmed the same caliber shot was used to kill Athena Paradis and Joe Mauser."

"No big shock there," I said.

"No, we figured it was the same sick son of a b.i.t.c.h. But they were surprised to find out the caliber bullet our man used." surprised to find out the caliber bullet our man used."

"Unusual?"

"I'd say .44-40 magnum rounds." Curt waited a moment.

He expected my jaw to drop, but I must have slept through my NRA 101 course.

"Why's that surprise you?"

"n.o.body uses .44-40 ammunition these days. Just an impractical caliber to use, on both sides of the good guy/bad guy coin."

"Why's that?"

"Magnum rounds are large, man. Heavy velocity, heavy impact. The recoil on those things will knock you on your a.s.s.

Forget everything Dirty Harry said, any cop who wants to be able to get off a second round in the same zip code would be an idiot to carry around a magnum. Only people who use it are idiot cons who think it looks pretty, but any perp who knows anything about weapons would prefer something lighter."

"Idiots don't kill women with a single shot from a hundred yards out," I said.

"No. That takes a different kind of mental defect."

"So what are magnum rounds used for?" I asked.

"Hunting, mostly," Sheffield said. "Got an uncle, lives out 88.in Montana, goes big game hunting using magnum rounds.

Got a black bear head on his mantel used to scare the s.h.i.+t out of me and my sister growing up. It's a good caliber for up to a hundred and fifty yards, after that the bullet is too heavy to maintain its accuracy."

"The killer shot both Athena and Joe Mauser from within two hundred yards."

"Right."

"Further reduces his idiocy quotient. Obviously the killer is smart enough to know his range."

"Question is," Sheffield said, "why would anyone use magnum rounds for that kind of sniper shooting? Only an idiot would try to kill a person from far away using a magnum round.

.22s are lighter, faster and more accurate. Not to mention easier to get. I'm up there on the roof? I'm using .22s."

"Unless there's a reason for using magnum rounds," I said.

"Whoever killed Mauser and Athena planned the murders out.

They knew Athena was going to be at the Kitten Club, and they knew the setup outside city hall well enough to position themselves for a shot. You don't go through that kind of trouble and then randomly pick a gun and bullet that might separate your shoulder with the recoil."

"It is s.e.xy ammo," Curt said, rather offhandedly. "Magnum."

We continued walking, both processing the information.

Powerful, short range, heavy, high velocity. s.e.xy. s.e.xy.

"Wait," I said. "What do you mean it's s.e.xy?"

"Look, I'm not saying you'll find it at Victoria's Secret..."

"Come on. The killer chose this ammo for a reason. Why does someone choose magnum ammunition over something more practical? Especially when they have everything else planned to a T?"

"Well," Curtis said. "Dirty Harry made magnum ammo 89.cool. Forget which one of the movies it was, but he used .44 caliber special loads, which are lighter and don't have the same recoil. Funny thing is they didn't actually use a magnum while shooting the movie, they used--"

"Come on," I said, impatiently. "What else?"

"Well, magnum ammo is probably the one ammunition that's actually known in pop culture. Ever see that movie, Winchester 73? " I shook my head. "Great flick. James " I shook my head. "Great flick. James Stewart and Sh.e.l.ley Winters. Anyway, the Winchester is commonly referred to as 'The Gun that Won the West.' Most popular rifle, probably ever, kind of a folk legend. The Winchester uses .44-40 magnum rounds."

"No s.h.i.+t," I said. "Winchester, huh?"

"Winchester."

"Think there's a chance our killer might have used a Winchester on Athena and Joe?"

"It's a possibility, man, but the Winchester plant shut down a few years ago. It's not even called Winchester these days, some conglomerate took it over. Probably called GunTex or something stupid. And trust me, n.o.body uses Winchester rifles anymore. They went out with the dodo and bellbottoms."

"Some people think bell-bottoms are hip," I said.

"Hey, what you and your girl do is between the two of y'all."

"Yeah, but maybe there's someone out there who thinks Winchesters are the new black. Or at least has a reason for using one."

"Well, I can't imagine there are a whole lot of working ones left, so you got yourself a lead there, Maureen Dowd."

"And the note," I said. "You told me another note was left at the scene again."

"No, I didn't," Curt said.

90."You did, a.s.shole, give it."

Curt looked around, his eyes narrowing. "This is some creepy stuff, man. Hard to get something like that out of your head."

"Do you have a copy of it I could take?" I asked.

"Nah. I didn't need one. You don't forget something like that."

"What did the note say?"

Curt stopped, seemed to think for a moment, then carefully spoke.

"It said, 'People thought me bad before, but if ever I should get free, I'll let them know what bad means.'"

"I'll let them know what bad means," I repeated. "I didn't write that."