City of Vice, page 4
“Good enough for them to write about you in the papers. Good enough so that you’ve got precinct captains squabbling over you.”
“Oh. Then…I honestly don’t know.”
“Is that modesty or ignorance?”
“Maybe a bit of both. Now let me ask you, Pawlowski. Do you have some sort of a problem with me?”
“Nope,” she said. “Not yet. If you want the bare bones of it, I’m selfish. I liked being the only dame in my station. I feel like they brought you in because I wasn’t enough.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case,” Ava said.
Pawlowski had no response to this. They both remained quiet as they finished the grueling climb up flight after flight of stairs. Ava couldn’t help but wonder if this was why she and Pawlowski had been tasked with this job. She had no idea how long it took them to get to the top. What she did know was that her legs were aching and even without seeing the open expanse of New York City sky all around them, she could feel the height. It seemed to weigh down on her, adding some extra pressure to her lungs.
When the stairs came to an end, Ava found herself standing on a reinforced wooden floor, made of sheets of thick boards and beams. It was not finished like the floors beneath them, and neither were the walls. As a matter of fact, the wall behind them was incomplete, offering that view of the sky she’d not yet seen. She could feel the wind whipping; while it was not nearly strong enough to knock her down, it was enough to make her feel like she had to push forward a bit more than she was used to.
Several workers were moving around as if they weren’t bothered by it at all. As she watched, three men were hauling a small metal rod to the other side of the floor, toward the open space that looked out onto nothing more than sky.
“You ever done anything like this?” Ava asked Pawlowski.
“No. I stood out on a balcony in one of those Manhattan high rises a few months back. But this…this is too much. Let’s make quick work of these and get the hell down.”
It sounded like a good idea to Ava as she continued to study their surroundings. Because the more she looked around, the less complete this floor seemed. She saw open spaces with sky peeking through, blocked by nothing more than steel girders and the most basic foundation materials.
Still, at the same time, she felt drawn to the danger of it. She and Pawlowski walked over to the closest wall and peered out between the girders. It was horrifying and thrilling all at once. No more than six feet rested between her toes and open space. And standing so close to the edge, the wind seemed to be just a bit stronger at her back.
“I dare you to spit,” Pawlowski joked.
Ava stepped back, her heart slamming in her chest. As she did, one of the workers came hurrying over with a shocked look on his face. He was coated in sweat and wore a hardhat that sat on his head in funny but handsome way.
“What in God’s holy name are you two dumb Doras doing up here?” he howled.
“We’re cops,” Pawlowski said, brushing him off as if she did this sort of thing every day.
Ava found herself once again showing her badge. “We’re here to look into the man that apparently flung himself from the floor two nights ago.”
“Oh, that jackass?” the man in the hardhat said. “I tell you, you have to be some kind of maniac to even think about it. That’s a long fall.” He softened his demeanor a bit and eyed them with something like concern. “You ladies be careful, yeah? Is there anything we can do for you?”
“Would you mind answering some questions?” Ava asked.
“Yeah, sure. But let me get James over here, too. He’s the crew supervisor.” He turned and cupped his hands over his mouth. “Hey, James! come on over here. These cop ladies have some questions about that moron that jumped.”
Ava watched as a man looking at blueprints by a stack of lumber came slowly walking over. He didn’t look as friendly as the first man, but he also made no attempt to hide the fact that he was quite taken by both of them. The smile he offered them as he approached was the sort that let Ava know he was accustomed to flirting with women and getting away with it. To thwart this and stop it before it began, Ava once again showed her ID.
“We’re with the NYPD,” she said. “We’re trying to find out more information about the man that seemed to have leaped from this very floor two nights ago.”
The man—James, presumably—chuckled. “Yeah, you and a bunch of other folks. I don’t even know how he got up here. Those front doors are supposed to be locked after hours. And there’s even a security guy downstairs most of the night, too.”
“Do you have any idea if any of that might have been different two nights ago?”
“Not for sure, but I don’t see why it would. I mean…you work for the cops. You know about all these men killing themselves lately. A place like this…you bet your gams it’s going to be protected.”
“Do you have any idea if that security guard might still be in the building?”
“He might be. He works some strange hours. Nine to nine or something like that. If you hurry back down, you might catch him.”
“And what about you, sir?” Pawlowski asked. “Have you had any men sort of lose it while working up here? Anyone you think might want to throw themselves off under the stress of the job?”
“Not at all. There are some that know for sure they won’t be able to handle the height. And even then, with the ones that do work way up here, I make sure they take breaks. If you’re up here long enough, it can mess with your head. Besides…after I heard about the incident, I checked in with all of my men. Everyone was present and accounted for.”
“This guard downstairs,” Ava said. “Do you know his name?”
“They call him Dooley. I think it’s his last name. I’ve never spoken to the man.”
Knowing it was already after nine o’ clock, Ava felt the need to hurry back downstairs. Her knees, on the other hand, were perfectly fine standing still for a moment. “Thanks for your help,” she said, already turning back for the door. Her knees and calves seemed to seize up at the thought of what was coming.
As the women made their way back to the stairwell, Ava noticed Pawlowski looked back to the nearly finished walls. She shook her head softly and said: “Could you do it? Working up here, I mean.”
“I don’t think so. I think it takes a special sort to deal with the wind and the heights.”
And in saying that, she thought the same might be true of a man that might kill himself from such a height. What sort of trouble might he have been going through to make such a plan? Or, on the other hand, what sort of maniac would have lured him up there only to throw him off?
CHAPTER SIX
Ava was relieved to find that it was at least a bit easier to walk back down the stairs. They did very little talking along the way in an effort to save their breath. The only conversation occurred somewhere around the forty-fifth floor. Pawlowski, now in the lead on the way down, said something Ava had already wondered about.
“The elevators…all these damned stairs…you’d really want to have to kill yourself to go through all of this. I mean, it would be easier to just put a bullet in your head or hang yourself, right?”
“That’s a little morbid,” Ava said, “but yes. I’d agree with that.”
“I think by the time I got off of the elevator and then saw all these stairs, I’d turn around.”
“Almost makes you think someone was trying to make a statement,” Ava said. “Maybe someone trying to prove a point.”
All Pawlowski said in response was “Hmm.”
They finished their trek down the stairs and came to the elevator. Ava checked her watch and saw that it was 9:16. If this Dooley fellow was a creature of habit, he’d be long gone by now, if her brief conversation with the foreman up top had been accurate.
When they finally made it back to the ground floor and stepped out of the elevator, Ava relaxed, noticing that she’d been quite tense the entire time they’d made their trip up—even on the stairs. Her legs and knees felt lighter and she walked with a fluid ease that she’d never noticed before. Maybe just the way normal people walk when they aren’t accustomed to just having been way up in the sky, she thought.
There was a different group of workers on the ground floor now, roughly a dozen or so all standing in a circle and speaking quite loudly. Ava couldn’t tell if there was an argument or if they were just trying to speak over one another. As she looked over, she noticed that one of them was the same man that had stopped them when they’d come in the front doors. When he saw her looking in his direction, Ava waved him over. He muttered something to the man beside him and then hurried over.
“On your way out?” he asked them.
“Well, we were hoping the night watchman might still be around. Dooley, according to one of the men upstairs.”
“You’re in luck! Dooley usually dips out around nine, but one of the construction foremen offered him some scratch if he helped clean up some of the mess out back. He’s still out there if you need to talk to him.”
“Out back?” Pawlowski asked.
“Yeah, just head out the front and go around the left side. You’ll see a small space with a lot of discarded building materials. Dooley and a few others are out there right now.”
Ava and Pawlowski thanked him and took his directions When Ava was outside, she found herself glancing up to the top of the building, in awe of the fact that she couldn’t actually see the top when she was standing so close to the building. Her stomach rolled a bit when she thought of how she’d been way up there only moments ago.
They came to the side of the building, finding the clean-up areas easily enough. It was blocked off from the rest of the street by flimsy metal fencing, broken only by a single gate along the side to allow people in and out. There were five men working hard to carry scattered junk and debris into a series of large, black garbage containers.
“Excuse me,” Ava said. “Is one of you named Dooley?”
All five of them turned around. Two stared with the eyes of curious adolescent boys, while the others looked concerned to have two young women at a worksite like this one. But of the five, one raised his hands rather bashfully. He looked to be in his late forties and in need of a shave.
“That’s me,” he said with an uncertain smile. “I’m Dooley.”
This time, it was Pawlowski that flashed her badge. “NYPD. Can we talk to you about some of your duties in the building?”
Dooley looked confused now, his eyes narrowing in on the badge. “Cops? Is something wrong?”
“No, sir,” Pawlowski said. “We just want to ask you some questions about some things.”
Dooley nodded and stepped forward, coming through the gate. “There’s not much to tell, though. I mean, the building isn’t even open for operation yet. Won’t be much longer though. They think maybe another three or four months.”
“Do you work as the night security every day?” Ava asked.
“Nah. It’s me and one other guy that sort of rotate.”
“Were you here two nights ago?” Pawlowski asked.
“I was. Been here for the last four nights. The new guy will come on tonight and cover the next three.”
“I assume you know about the man that seems to have jumped from the top two nights ago, correct?” Ava asked.
“Yes, for sure. But, you know, the first cops on the scene poked around, asking questions. And I’ll tell you exactly what I told them: I never saw anyone come in. And I sit right there in that lobby all night. The most I ever get are some curious gawkers, coming by hoping to get a peek before the place opens up. But I haven’t had a single person try to actually come inside for a few weeks now.”
“Well, we know someone did come in two nights ago,” Pawlowski said.
“Seems that way. It could have been while I was using the restroom. And there was a period of about ten or fifteen minutes when I did fall asleep.”
“Is that common?” Ava asked. “Do you doze off often?”
“No,” he said, suddenly seeming to regret that he’d said anything at all. “I mean…I could lose my job if people found out. I mean…no one has to know, right? I can’t afford to lose this job.”
The desperation in his voice was genuine and Ava couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. “Okay, then,” she said. “Between just the three of us, how much time were you…unavailable two nights ago?”
His sudden look of discomfort told Ava that he was starting to understand that he’d made a mistake. He’d openly invited such questions because he’d seen them as innocent, albeit curious, women rather than investigating cops. Therefore, he sounded almost ashamed when he answered: “Maybe an hour.”
“Any clue what time?” Pawlowski asked. She made no attempt to hide her annoyance.
Dooley thought about it for a few seconds, but eventually shook his head. “No, I wouldn’t know for sure. All I could tell you is that it would have been sometime after midnight.”
“And during the time you were actually awake, did you see anyone wandering around out front?” Pawlowski asked.
“No. Nobody.”
Pawlowski sighed, shook her head, and turned away. Ava was taken aback at the almost unprofessional manner in which the woman carried herself, but she also understood it. She’d felt equally frustrated with people while on a case, but she’d always managed to swallow down her true feelings and present a professional face.
“Thank you for your time,” Ava said.
Dooley nodded and seemed to be very happy that was where the line of questioning came to an end. He went back behind the fence to continue his work as Ava hurried to catch up with Officer Pawlowski.
“That was a little rude, wasn’t it?” Ava said as she caught up with her partner.
“Was it? I just didn’t see the point in questioning a man that proved within the first few seconds that he has no problem lying—also a man that doesn’t do his job well.”
Ava agreed, but maybe not quite as angrily. She then realized that they had left the scene of the crime, as well as the only possible source for information. And here she was, playing catch-up with a cop that seemed not to care all that much about her job.
“So then what’s your next step?” Ava asked. “Leaving potential leads behind so quickly, what do you think we should do next?”
“Get more information on him other than ‘he may have committed suicide.’ We have his name in the records. I say we dive deep down into who he was and see what answers we find there.”
“No one has done that yet?” Ava asked, surprised.
“Not to my knowledge. After all…most everyone involved in this was more concerned about the potential black mark against the building. No one really seemed to care much about the man himself.”
It was sound logic, so Ava didn’t argue. She was still trying to figure out Pawlowski and figured a confrontation this early in their partnership would spell disaster. And because Ava knew lots of eyes would be on her, she was going to do her very best to stay in line. With that thought in her head she turned back to watch the Chrysler Building as it grew slightly smaller as they walked away from it, realizing that this case was going to be more than just solving a potential murder—but making sure she represented herself well in a new precinct, with a new partner.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Some of the officers had cleared out of the precinct by the time Ava and Pawlowski returned. Still, Ava noticed a few quick glares pointed in their direction as they headed back to their desks.
“You need some coffee?” Pawlowski asked.
“That would be great, actually,” Ava said.
“One second.” She then slid the case notes over to Ava’s desk and said: “Help yourself.”
As Pawlowski stalked away to what Ava assumed was the break room, Ava started to look over the notes again. She did much more than skim them this time. Now that she’d seen the place where the man had allegedly jumped from, she felt she had a better lens to view the details through.
The victim’s name was Alfred Perkins, a detail that was not provided to the public until about five hours after the body was discovered because it had been in such terrible shape. It was sad that it came as no surprise to Ava when she saw that he had worked as an investor at a bank over on Wall Street. Ava noted the address as 40 Wall Street—an address that stuck out in her mind because she’d read in the headlines just three or four days ago that many investors and financial-types working at that address had lost monstrous amounts of money in the crash. Putting two-and-two together, Ava thought it was a logical assumption to assume that Alfred Perkins had been among them.
She made a mental note to try to find that article because she knew that there were several banks and firms that were in hot water; they’d lost not only their own money, but the money of many clients as well. It was an interesting dichotomy because it opened the door to two possibilities: first, that the loss of all that money could have easily driven Perkins to suicide; second, that he could have potentially lost the money of his clients, creating a list of people that might want to do him harm.
She had just gotten to the details of the very brief bit of information about the first officer on the case that had spoken to the wife when Pawlowski came back over with a two cups of coffee.
“Thoughts?” she asked.
“I think it looks like a perfect copy of so many other suicides as of late,” Ava said. “Rich banker loses everything, and maybe even the money of his clients, and can’t handle it.”
“Any idea how long we’ll be expected to work on this before Miller will take our word that it was a suicide?”
“I’m not sure it was,” Ava said. “Not yet. If it had occurred at any other building, I might buy it. But I go back to there being some symbolism of some kind to this. Speaking of which…do you know where I could get a paper from a few days ago?”
“Back in archives,” Pawlowski said. Then, with a smile, she added: “You’re looking to see if he was one of those poor saps that lost the money of his clients, aren’t you?”
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