Page 8 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

“Forty-fivetoseventy-fiveminutes ago.”

“Shit,” Kylie said.

“I know,”Dorsey-Jonessaid. “That’s just about when his brother was shot ten miles from here. Based on the timing and the method of execution, it looks like you’re looking for two different killers, both of whom are virtuosos at their craft.”

“You have a way with words, Livvy,” I said.

“I only sound like that on the job. Ten years of working with Chuck Dryden will do that to a girl from aHundred-and-Twenty-Eighth and Lenox.”

“Detectives.”

Kylie and I turned around.

“Detectives Buddy Henry and Alma Cardona from theTwo-Foursquad,” the man said. “We were called to the scene before the case was kicked up to Red.”

“What’ve you got?” I said.

“We just interviewed the people who made the 911 call. Two women, regulars, they take this path three, four times a week. They walked past this spot going north and turned around at aHundred-and-SixthStreet. Ten minutes later when they got back, there he was. No one in sight. Just the body. One of them is a retired nurse, so she checked for signs of life. Otherwise, they didn’t touch anything.”

“What time did they call it in?” Kylie asked.

Cardona checked her notepad. “Eleven-oh-nine.”

Kylie gave me a look. That put the time of death at about eleven a.m. We were definitely looking for two different killers.

“Witnesses?” I said.

Henry shook his head. “We’re canvassing, but nothing yet. We’ll hit up the local homeless, and we’ll be back tomorrow morning handing out flyers to joggers. I wouldn’t get my hopes up. This is a hot spot for muggings. Clump of trees, solo runner, mugger jumps out. Even if the vic doesn’t have much money, they grab his phone, jewelry—whatever they can.”

“Cameras?” Kylie asked.

“No, ma’am,” Cardona said. “We sure could use them. But the city isn’t paying for cameras.”

“Has the family been notified?” I asked.

“We wouldn’t do that without running it past you,” Henry said.

“We’ll take care of it,” I said.

Cardona checked her notes again. “The victim’s wife is Brooke Hellman.”

“Thanks,” I said. “We’ve met her.”

“Oh, good,” Cardona said. “It’s always better to come from someone you know.”

“Not in this case,” Kylie said. “We’ve met Mrs. Hellman. And she’s definitely not a fan.”

CHAPTER 6

“Not a fan”was an understatement. The last words Brooke Hellman ever said to Kylie were “Get the fuck out of my house, or I’ll call a real cop.”

It was the day after we arrested Warren for the murder of Jonas Belmont. We had already interviewed Curtis, who had made his brother sound like a candidate for sainthood. Kylie figured we’d have a better shot at getting some straight answers by talking to Brooke.

“What do we know about her?” I asked.

“Not much. I’ve seen pictures. She’s tall—even without heels, she’s taller than her husband. She used to work in the restaurant business, which is where they met twenty years ago. He’sfifty-nine, she’sforty-one, and what else... oh, yeah, big boobs and eternally blond.” Kylie mimed, picking up a telephone. “Hello, Central Casting, send me a trophy wife.”

“What makes you think she’ll give us anything we can use against herbrother-in-law?”