Couples
Chapter 61
"What's going on, Kate?" Lana asks, approaching the detective's desk in the bullpen.
"I'm diving into another case that's been on hold. I wanted to talk to you because you were the first officer on the scene."
"Right," Lana recalls, "the body in the boutique. That was part of my regular patrol. The owner of the shop almost got herself killed running out into Broadway to flag me down. She said she practically tripped over the deceased when she came in to open the store. I secured the scene and passed it off to a detective at the 54th. How did it get to the 12th?"
Kate's lips narrow as she shakes her head. "The file isn't too clear on that. Some kind of inter-precinct trade-off, I think. Whatever bureaucratic maneuvers were involved, it's my case now. What else can you tell me?"
Lana closes her eyes to visualize the scene. "The store has one of those metal scissor gates across the front. Both that and the door were unlocked when I arrived. The owner said she did it herself. I checked that the back door was locked. I didn't see any obvious signs of forced entry, but if someone picked a lock, that would have been up to the detectives and C.S.U. to figure out. I taped everything up and tried to keep the owner, Mrs. Bulova, calm until a supervisor, and the rest of the team arrived. Then I gave my report and went back on patrol."
"So," Kate sums up, "from what you saw, either the killer had a key, possibly to the back door, or knew how to pick locks without leaving obvious signs."
"You've got it, Kate," Lana responds. "I guess that narrows down your list of suspects."
"I hope it does. Hey, I haven't heard anything from the D.A.'s office since Burrell stepped down. How is Eli doing?"
"Busy, but fine. He'll be getting to spend a little more time on the campaign now, and the P.R. he's getting is terrific. The grapevine has it that Rick has something to do with that."
"The grapevine is right, and Rick couldn't be happier with the way things shook out – except that he'd like to see Bucker Carlin exposed for the asshole he is."
"So would I," Lana agrees, "with as many cameras rolling as possible. But you take what you can get. And if you don't have any more questions, I need to get back on the street. I don't want to end up with anything hanging over at the end of my shift. Eli and I have plans tonight."
"Good for you," Kate responds. "I'll call you if anything else comes up. Have a great time."
As Lana heads for the elevator, Kate grabs her blazer from the back of her chair. The temperature outside is warm for a jacket, but she uses it to cover her gun, and the pockets keep her from needing her purse.
The murder scene's address is in the low eighties on Broadway. It will take her a while to get uptown this time of day, and by now, she doubts if there's anything at the scene to see. But she does want to talk to Celia Bulova. The initial report didn't get much of anything from her in the way of details. She claimed not to know the victim and had no idea who could have gotten into the store at the T.O.D. the night before. Something else may have occurred to her now that she's had more time to think about it.
After the rare event of finding street parking within a block of her destination, Kate spots a hot dog vendor selling Nathan's, her favorite. It's only 11 a.m., but Rick served up breakfast at six. Her stomach rumbles. It will only take a moment to avail herself of a dog with everything. As long as she doesn't try to interview Celia Bulova with sauerkraut in her teeth, she should be fine.
Kate's eyes sweep the area as she consumes her snack. Heavy traffic fills the street, and pedestrians fill the sidewalks. It would be strange if they didn't. A block down, a musician plays, his guitar case open on the ground to receive any contributions. She can't hear him very well. He's playing an acoustic guitar, which wouldn't require a permit, as something amplified would. Kate decides to stroll over and listen while she finishes the last of her dog.
A figure barreling down the sidewalk grabs her immediate attention, even as it snatches the musician's instrument. "You couldn't let me finish?' Kate mutters under her breath, tossing the last bite of her purchase in a nearby receptacle as she goes after the thief. She brings him down as carefully as she can to avoid damaging the guitar.
The musician runs up and cradles his treasure as she's securing her cuffs. "Thank you so much! You have no idea what he was trying to steal."
Kate's eyes widen as she studies the thief's target. "A D'Angelico New Yorker! Those guitars are legendary. Why are you playing one on the street?"
"Because I can't play it anywhere else. The guitar belonged to my father. He was an incredible musician. He toured all over the country. I'm not even close to as good as he was. But he had a stroke last year and couldn't play anymore. I tried to take care of him, but without his music, he just faded away. He died three months ago. The D'Angelico is all that's left of him. I've been trying to get real gigs to play it, but the competition in New York…
Kate nods sympathetically. "I can imagine and I'm very sorry for your loss." She calls for backup to transport her prisoner. "I'll need to get a report from you, Mr.…"
"Jed, Jed Petersen."
"And you'll have to file some paperwork to take possession of the D'Angelico, Mr. Petersen," Kate continues. "It's evidence in an attempted grand theft. But you should have it back soon since I witnessed the incident."
"I hope so," Jed replies. "I guess I was lucky you were here, Officer…"
"Detective, Detective Kate Beckett. I'm here investigating a murder."
Jed points to the boutique. "The body that was found in there a while back?"
"That's right," Kate confirms. "Do you know something about it?"
"Not much. I saw Mrs. Bulova run out to the police car, and the police asked me to stay clear of the area. But I also saw someone hanging around on and off a week before it happened."
"Did you tell the detective who came to the scene that?"
"I couldn't," Jed claims. "I wasn't allowed to get anywhere close. And after that, I was away from my spot for a couple of days for a gig in a coffee house near Hudson U. I never had a chance to talk to anyone about the guy I saw."
"You can talk to me now," Kate declares. "And I'm going to make sure you get the D'Angelico back as soon as possible. I was going to stay and talk to Mrs. Bulova, but I think that can wait."
"You should talk to her granddaughter, Sela, too," Jed suggests. "She comes and works in the store whenever she can. We rap about music sometimes. She has a good ear."
"Let's hope she also has good eyes," Kate responds. "When we get to the 12th Precinct, I want you to work with a police artist to generate a sketch of the person you saw. If Sela also saw him, I'll want her to do the same."
"If Sela saw him, she may be able to give you a sketch on her own," Jed suggests. "She's lined up on going to Parsons. She's a real artist."
Kate nods at Jed as a marked unit pulls up to collect her prisoner. "Make sure you have all your things and let's get going."