Abe failed to respond when Jo called out for him when she entered the shop. Upstairs, she swept each of the rooms and found no one. Once she climbed the stairs to the rooftop terrace, her heart nearly stopped at the sight of Abe lying unconscious on the floor near the table and bleeding from the head.
vvvv
There was no fatal bullet wound on Abe like there had been on the other two victims, Maureen's ex-husband and her fiancee. Jo breathed a sigh of relief after detecting a pulse. She grabbed a dinner napkin from the table and wadded it up, pressing it against his forehead to staunch the bleeding. She then pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and speed-dialed for a bus. Since it appeared that Abe had been attacked while on the terrace, it meant that someone had shot at him from the window or rooftop of an adjacent building. Her eyes traveled around in the general direction from which she supposed the bullet would have come. Before CSU could get there and scope out the place for evidence and of a possible trajectory scenario, Jo stood up and back a few paces to record a phone video of an unconscious Abe then up and around at the most probable locations the shooter could have perched.
Her next call was placed to the morgue for Henry. "Lucas! Lucas, this is Det. Jo Martinez. Please put Dr. Morgan on," she hurriedly requested. Abe began to stir and groan just as the EMTs and CSU units arrived. "Lie still, Abe," she told him. The responders announced themselves and advanced up the two flights of stairs to the rooftop per instructions she'd relayed to the Dispatcher. Jo stood up again and stepped back so they could attend to Abe.
"Henry. Hi, um ... try not to be too alarmed," she told him.
("What is it, Jo?" he asked, alarmed anyway.)
"Abe has been injured," she began, but the paramedics have him in hand."
("Injured?! How? Wha-what happened to him?")
"Someone took a shot at him but their aim was off," she replied. "He's conscious now and ... wait, Henry, hold on a moment." Abe was refusing to be taken to the hospital which greatly disturbed Jo. She muted her side of the conversation in order not to alarm Henry any more than he already was.
"You will let them take you to the hospital so you can be thoroughly examined," she told Abe in her most forceful, no-nonsense tone of voice. "And we need information from you about what just happened to you. Do you understand? This is part of a police investigation and I'm not going to let your machismo get in the way of that! Now, go with them. I'll follow you to the hospital in my car."
Abe stared at her, temporarily speechless at having been scolded as if he were a misbehaving brat. "Okay, guys," he wearily told the EMTs, "you heard the lady detective." The EMTs rolled their eyes at each other, helped him onto a waiting gurney, and then stablized his head. While they carried him down the stairs, Jo unmuted her phone and resumed her conversation with Henry.
"Sorry," she said, returning to the call. "He was being stubborn but I managed to convince him to go with the paramedics to get thoroughly checked out."
("He can be very stubborn and a little too self-reliant at times," he acknowledged. "I'm glad you're there with him. Thank you. But is he seriously hurt?")
"Looks like he was only grazed but that could still feel like a kick from a mule," she said, recalling how it had felt when she had been only grazed by a bullet once. Henry also knew how it felt and how a mule kick felt. One that had broken his right tibia while serving in World War I. By this time, she had left the shop and was getting into her car. "I promised him I'd follow the ambulance he's in. Have to talk to you later."
("St. Vincent's?")
"Yes." She started up her car and pulled away from the curb to follow the ambulance. "Henry, you've already figured out most of what happened to Delbert. If you feel you need to come to see about Abe - "
("I do," he replied. "Delbert's body can keep until tomorrow morning but I'll have Lucas prep it now. I'll take a cab. See you soon. And ... thank you, Jo, for looking out for my - for him.")
vvvv
Jo stood just outside the small ICU room where Abe lay in bed with a bandaged head and hooked up to an IV while Henry - his father - visited with him. More like inspected him, Jo thought to herself. It was a tender moment, seeing the two of them interact with each other. But only she knew that Henry was the worried but relieved father, and that Abe was his elderly son. Despite the fact that Abe was still trying to downplay his injuries and his situation of having narrowly missed being a killer's next victim, she'd seen how his eyes had lit up when his father had rushed into the room. It was the same look she'd seen before when a frightened, lost, or injured child saw their parent rushing up to them. Now they're safe, the look said. Mom or Dad is here and they're gonna take care of me.
Of course, she'd also seen that the two men had had to put their masks on, restraining themselves from any overly affectionate displays of emotion toward each other for it would probably be misunderstood or misinterpreted. And might draw too much of the wrong attention to them. Her heart went out to them because she now knew that they felt it necessary to rein in their emotions and just keep up the appearance of being good friends and roommates while in public.
"Visiting hours are over," a nurse reminded them.
"I'm a doctor," Henry told her. "Couldn't I just stay a little longer?"
"I can respect that, Doctor," the nurse kindly replied. "But we have rules and his attending physician - " Jo felt the need to intercede for them and stepped up, flashing her badge.
"Det. Jo Martinez, NYPD," she announced, displaying her badge. "This is my partner, Dr. Morgan, from the OCME. Give us a few minutes, please." The nurse reluctantly nodded and left the room.
"Thank you, Jo," Henry said. He turned his attention back to Abe and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You get some rest. I'll be back to see you bright and early in the morning." Abe smiled slightly and closed his eyes. Henry looked anxiously at Jo, who understood his unspoken concerns.
"A guard is being posted as we speak," she said, motioning toward the uni entering the room.
"Good evening. I'm Officer Margo Dobbins," she said. "I'll be right outside the door if you need anything," she told them, smiling that professional we're-here-to-help smile.
"Just you?" Henry asked, then wished he had not. "Just that I'm worried about my friend's safety."
"That's why I'm here," Ofc. Dobbins reaffirmed to him. She tipped the brim of her hat to them and walked out to seat herself in the provided folding metal chair.
Jo crossed her arms and tilted her head, looking at Henry. "Women's lib started way back in the 70s, Henry."
"Actually, decades before that," he replied in auto-lecture mode. "The 1970s saw it reach an interesting milestone." Shaking himself out of the history books lodged in his mind, he explained, "I merely meant that ... one or two more armed personnel here would be more comforting."
"Personnel shortages," Jo wryly replied. "But she's up to the task. Besides, the hospital itself has security personnel. C'mon, let's get you home so you can get some rest, too."
"I really should stay," he said more to himself than to her. "Slight concussion from the bullet's impact. His age." He shook his head and repeated. "I really should stay."
Jo placed her hand around his arm and gently pulled him away. "Not gonna do you or anyone any good if you run yourself into the ground, Henry. Let me take you home. After you get a shower and a good night's sleep, you can come back in the morning. Fresh as a daisy."
They walked down the corridor and out of the hospital. Jo drove in the opposite direction of the shop, though. When he questioned her about it, she reminded him that his home was now a crime scene.
"I just realized that. Sooo, tonight, you're going home with me. You can bed down on the couch," she told him when he protested and mentioned going to a hotel. "I'll swing you by the shop in the morning so you can get a change of clothes. Just don't think you should be alone tonight."
"I ... suppose ... but what if the hospital calls?" he asked.
"They've been instructed to call me," she replied.
"Alright," he said, finally relaxing a bit. "You win."
vvvv
The next morning, Jo did exactly as she'd told Henry the night before that she would do. While he showered and then donned a fresh suit of clothes from his bedroom closet, Jo waited for him in her car outside the shop. They hadn't really been able to discuss much about the case but they had learned that Maureen's first marriage in 1966 was to an Italian man named Edoardo Giardano, a skier and Olympic hopeful. Both of them had been just 19 years old but the marriage had lasted only four months because he had died in a tragic hunting accident.
Jo mulled that fact over in her mind and smiled when Henry emerged from the shop, locking the front door. Meticulously dressed, as usual. A new, royal blue scarf. Her smile widened when he got into the car looking more like the Henry she knew instead of the sleep-deprived, worried father from the night before.
"Took me a little longer," he explained, "because after I got dressed, I called the hospital and was able to speak to Abe. He sounds more chipper this morning. And he's refusing to eat the hospital food," he added, chuckling. "Wants me to bring him something from Browning's around the corner from the hospital." He looked at her apologetically. "I know you don't really have the time - "
"Plenty of time," she said, interrupting him. "They've got great hot cafe mocha's."
While they drove over to the cafe, she brought up Edoardo Giardano and his tragic death. "Must have been horrible for her," Jo said. "Only three months together and ... " Her voice trailed off before adding, "she was a young widow." A much younger widow and much sooner than even she had been when Sean had died. She didn't know either of them but her heart went out to them.
"A sad coincidence that he died also from a gunshot wound," Henry said. He wasn't sure if the 'also' referred to the other two victims associated with Maureen or to himself.
"Yeah. Quite a coincidence," Jo remarked. In the back of her mind, she thought it might be good to question Maureen about what she knew about her first husband's death. In her time on the force, she'd come to know that sometimes a serial killer's first victim was someone they knew. Someone close to them. Unbeknownst to her, Henry was mulling over the same thoughts in his mind.
They made their breakfast run to the cafe of Abe's choosing and picked up coffee and pastries for themselves. When they arrived at the ICU, they were told that Abe had been moved to a room on the third floor because his doctor wanted to make sure he was properly recovering from his concussion. Once inside his room, he greeted them enthusiastically. A man in combat fatigues around the same age as Abe with a long, ponytail of white, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes, was just finishing up his visit.
"Hey, you two," Abe began, "this is Frank Heffington, an old Army Ranger buddy of mine from back in what, 67?" he asked the man, who nodded and exchanged greetings with Henry and Jo. "I was discharged the first year of his stint. You're lookin' at a crack shot, here!"
Frank raised his right hand and scratched the top of his head - a nervous tic, Henry concluded - and took a few quick steps away from Abe's bed. "Well, gotta go now," Frank told Abe. "Get well soon, buddy." He gave a quick wave to them all and left the room.
"Now, you're talkin'," Abe said, grinning at the takeout container. He pressed the control to raise the top portion of his bed and Henry placed the delicious smelling breakfast of scrambled eggs with spinach and mushrooms, home fries, a thick slice of ham, and a buttermilk biscuit on his food tray. Abe pulled the tray near him and took in a big whiff before digging in. "Only thing is, this IV limits my mobility and this plastic dinnerware really doesn't do the trick."
"Sorry," Henry said. "Wouldn't have been able to get any silverware past the metal detectors, anyway."
Abe told them how he had decided to dish up some of the delicious roast duck dinner he'd prepared and the next thing he knew, "Lights out," he said.
"You neither saw nor heard anything?" Jo asked.
"Heard this loud 'crack' like the sound of a rifle firing. I remember what they sound like. Then it felt like a hammer hit me on the side of the head. You guys recover the bullet?"
"CSU did, yes," Jo replied. She brought up the image of the rimless, bottle-necked cartridge on her phone and showed it to them.
"That looks like a .308 Win or a 7.62 something or other NATO," Abe said.
"Det. Hanson once said that his father had been a gun collector," Henry stated. "He would most likely understand what you just said."
Abe chuckled a bit and swallowed his food. "The shooter probably used an M14 rifle and that type of round is a popular sniper round. During the Vietnam War, the M14 became useful as a special-purpose long-range rifle. In the 1970s, the Army converted several thousand M14s to M21 sniper rifles." Abe took a sip of his OJ and frowned. "Whoa ... listen to me lecture!" he said, directing his frown toward Henry.
"Abe, do you mind if I examine your wound?" Henry asked him, choosing to ignore his verbal jab.
Abe stilled himself and cast a wary glance up at Henry. "If it will help the case." Henry did his best to assure him that it would so Abe relented. "Okay, but be quick. I'm starving!"
Henry walked around to the right of Abe while pulling out a pair of blue, latex gloves from his coat pocket and snapping them on. He leaned over Abe and gently peeled back one side of the bandage to reveal the wound. What he saw didn't look as bad as he'd imagined it would be. The projectile hit just above the arch of his right eyebrow, taking skin with it and leaving a wound closed with crazy glue. He noticed that the wound was widest at the point of impact which meant it hit Abe from the right. He placed the bandage back into place and stood up, snapping off his gloves and discarding them into the waste basket near Abe's bed.
"The bullet hit you from the right," Henry said. He placed his index finger up to his own eyebrow and pointed it to indicate the path the bullet had taken. "The, ah, angle would suggest that it originated from a point only one story higher than our rooftop terrace."
Abe sighed and decided to leave the particulars on where the shot actually originated from to the professionals in the room. "How long is it gonna take for this to heal enough for me to go home?"
"It all depends on the weapon, projectile speed and the bullet-weight. A bullet at the weight of 10 grams and a speed of 900 meters per second has a mength of energy measuring to 4050 Joule. That's as much as an object of 100 - "
"Ask a silly question," Abe wryly remarked, looking at Jo.
"Alright," Henry conceded, frowning slightly. "In this case, with your concussion, and considering your age ... two to three days."
Abe didn't appear to be too happy about that but he said nothing. Then a thought crossed his mind. "Hey, talk about coincidences," he began, "Frank had a crush on Maureen."
"A crush," Jo repeated. "Recently?" She took out her small notepad and flipped it open to a clean page to record any helpful facts.
"Uh, nah, back then in '67," Abe replied, taking a big bite of ham. "I'm sure he got over it, though, because he was at our first wedding in 1973." Abe stopped chewing and knitted his brow as he considered something. "Come to think of it, he was at our second one in 1979, too."
"Wow," Jo said. "Short marriages."
"Yeah, well, some people live while others just exist," Abe replied, stealing a quick glance up at Henry.
Henry gave a look of weary annoyance to Jo. "See what I have to deal with on a daily basis?" Jo pulled her lips in and her cheeks puffed out as she worked to contain her laughter.
"But getting back to your friend, Frank. You invited him to both of your weddings," Henry stated. "Did you also invite him to court for your two divorces?" he smirked.
"Ha. Ha. Ha," Abe said, mock-glaring at Henry. "If you must know, he was there in a professional capacity at both weddings. He was one of Maureen's bodyguards after she'd received some death threats and someone had broken into her dressing room and cut up a lot of her stage outfits. This food is heavenly," he moaned, rolling his eyes shut then opening them again to delve back into his meal.
"Bodyguard?" Jo said. "I don't remember his name being on the list that we got from Scofield's secretary."
"Probably just an oversight," Henry speculated. "It was rather hurried and she was very upset after she'd found Scofield's dead body."
"Of course, he doesn't provide the muscle anymore for her," Abe said as he forked up some eggs. "Works for her mostly in an advisory capacity." He chewed and swallowed the forkful of eggs. "If you ask me, though, he's a gopher now and doesn't like it," he added with a one-eyed squint.
Henry and Jo exchanged a look and they both reached the same conclusion that Abe's friend should not only be added to the list of Maureen's present and former employees but maybe his name should be at the top. Then, noticing two long, white hairs on top of Abe's bed covers where Frank had been standing, he picked them up with a single blue glove.
"Hmphf," Abe said. "Those must belong to Frank. Guy sheds like a sheep dog."
Henry held onto them with the glove. "Abe, ah, I'm sorry to have to cut my visit short with you but the autopsy on Ernest Delbert really needs to be done right away," he said. "His death and those of the other two victims are connected to your injuries."
"Yeah. Sure, sure, do your thing," Abe told him. "You guys can discuss all that death stuff somewhere else, if you don't mind. I'd like to finish my meal in peace; with the living."
Henry's eyebrows flew up and he told Jo, "I do believe we've been dismissed."
Jo grinned and moved closer to Abe on the left side of the bed. "I'm sure there's someone else who would love to be able to do this but can't right now. So, I'll do it for them." She leaned over and kissed him gently on the unbandaged side of his head. Henry ducked his head and smiled softly.
"She's a keeper," Abe said to Henry while pointing at Jo.
"See ya later," she told Abe.
They left Abe's room and while in the corridor, Henry transferred the two hairs into a small, plastic evidence bag and put it in his pocket. She and Henry left the hospital and headed back to her car.
"Any particular reason for packaging those hairs?" Jo asked him as they walked up to the car.
"Just touching all bases," he replied. "I find it quite interesting that Abe's friend is a crack shot and most likely was trained on the M14 during his stint in the Army Rangers."
"He also knows Maureen and had to know Scanlon," Jo stated. "And all of her ex-husbands including even her first husband," she concluded. She got in the car and whipped out her phone.
"Hey, Mike. Run Frank Heffington through the system; see what comes up," she said. After a pause, she said, "He was omitted from the list of Maureen's present and former employees. Henry and I suspect that he should be at the top." She nodded after he said he was 'on it' and she ended the call.
While they buckled up and she started up the car, Abe's last words echoed in Henry's head. 'She's a keeper.' While he watched her wheel the car into traffic and point it toward the precinct, he wholeheartedly agreed to himself. And not just as a friend. He had to get her to understand that.
He cleared his throat and said, "Thank you for that, Jo. It was very sweet of you."
"Well, part of that little kiss was mine, too," she told him, smiling. "I really do care for him. He ... kinda grows on you," she chuckled, eliciting one from him.
"That he does," Henry agreed. Gathering his courage, he said, "And I know this isn't exactly the most appropriate time to say this but ... I value my relationship with you ... as much more than just friendship." He swallowed, looking at her and deciding to take advantage of the time at a stop light. "I've grown very fond of you during the time we've worked together and ... would very much like to get to know you better. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"
She bit her lower lip and hesitated a second before replying, "You're right. This isn't the most appropriate time to have this conversation but ... I do understand." The light changed and she proceeded through the intersection. They were now just one block away from the precinct. He waited for her to continue as she pulled the car into its assigned parking spot on the side of the building and turned the engine off.
"I've grown very fond of you, too," she shyly told him. Shyness. An un-characteristic for her, they both noted. But to him, she looked delightfully charming, blushing the way she was now. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she said, "We'll talk about this later?"
He covered her hand with his and returned her smile. "Oh, most definitely," he happily replied.
They gazed into each other's eyes until Henry saw a familiar figure turn the corner and head toward them: Lucas. Fortunately, he appeared to be carrying takeout from Browning's while bent over his phone. For that reason, he didn't seem to notice them. They exited the car after he entered the building and entered themselves all the while giving Lucas a wide berth. Lucas remained hunched over his phone and gave a one-knuckled punch to the elevator's call button. Once the elevator came, Lucas disappeared into it and the doors closed.
After they gathered their personal items from the plastic bins on the other side of the metal detector, they walked together to the elevators and punched the call button. A familiar voice greeted them from behind.
"Got it all on tape," Hanson gloated. Just as they simultaneously turned their heads to look at him over their shoulders, they saw him grinning at his phone. "Oh, not you guys with all that goofy gazing at each other a minute ago," he dryly commented, leaving them both relieved because he hadn't recorded their tender moment but annoyed that he had referred to the moment as 'goofy'. "Techies found surveillance footage of when Scanlon was killed," he informed them.
vvvv
"Got it all on tape, huh?" Jo wryly asked Hanson. "There's practically nothing on here that helps us spot the shooter."
"Well, yeah, there is," Hanson replied defensively. He rewound the tape and let it play again. "There's the vehicle ... shooter's hand on the weapon at the driver's side window ... Bang! We can blow that part up and - "
"Dark car, dark night, no license plate," Jo continued in her mild rant of skepticism. Then she saw something and sat up straighter. "Wait. Stop it ... Now, go back ... Stop!" The tape was stopped at the point where Scanlon was hailing a cab with his arm up, and Maureen was behind him signing an autograph for a fan. A young woman with shoulder-length dark hair was grinning admiringly at Maureen and looked to be waiting her turn for an autograph.
"Okay, I'm lookin'," Hanson said. "What am I lookin' at?"
"The girl right there," Jo said, pointing to her on the TV screen where they were viewing it in one of the conference rooms. "She's facing the street and must have had a clear view of the shooter when he rolled up." The tape advanced again and right at the point of the shot, she motioned for Hanson to pause it again. "See? She's obviously horrified but looking directly at the vehicle as it speeds off." The girl on the tape then ran from the scene in the opposite direction from the vehicle. Jo turned to Hanson frowning. "Wish she had been there when we first arrived on the scene. I'll bet she saw something that could help us."
Hanson popped the VHS tape out of the TV. "You're probably right. I'll hand this back to the Techies so they can run her through FRS."
"I'm gonna head back down to the morgue to see what Henry and Lucas have for us on our latest victim," Jo told him. Hanson said he would join her there in a few minutes.
vvvv
Jo entered the morgue to see Henry bent over Delbert's body closely studying the bullet wound in his forehead and Lucas admiringly studying him. She worked against a smile as she drew nearer to the two MEs. Her favorite corpse cutting duo for little more than a year. "Anything new to report?" she asked.
"Detective," Henry said. He straightened up but kept his eyes on Delbert's wound. "Just you?" he asked with a sly smirk as his eyes slowly trailed upward to meet hers.
She chuckled and shook her head. Lucas looked curiously at them. "Inside joke," was all she said.
"Gotcha," Lucas said, bobbing his head up and down and trying to pretend like he did get it. He didn't. But he vowed to look at the office pool to see if "inside joke" was one of the betting points on this WTOWT couple.
"Well, Lucas found something interesting while prepping Delbert's body," Henry began. "Several long, white hairs on the trousers. I'm willing to bet that they match the ones I pulled from Abe's bed covers."
"Mike's running him through the system," Jo said. "Looks like we go have a talk with Frank Heffington, expert sniper."
"Our victim was taken by surprise based on the entry wound," Henry said. "It entered his head at such an angle to suggest that he had turned away from his killer."
"He was trying to get away," Jo said. "Because he trusted whoever it was and didn't expect them to do anything like that to him."
"But why use two different weapons?" Lucas asked.
Henry shrugged. "To throw us off the trail," he said. "Make it appear that Delbert was the killer then remorse led him to commit suicide. Which, he did not," he emphasized.
Jo's phone rang and she fished it out of her pocket and answered it. "Martinez ... Okay, great. I'm on my way back up." She ended the call and dropped the phone back into her pocket. Both MEs waited patiently for her to tell them what the great news was. "A young girl we were trying to find, a witness to Scanlon's murder, just walked into the precinct."
Notes:
Information on military rifles found at
/history-us-military-riflesd/
Information on sniper rounds found at
308-winchester-7-62x51mm-nato/ and
wiki/.308_Winchester
Information on how long it takes to heal from a bullet graze wound found at
question/index;_ylt=Awr41eZ5t1hd8JwA7iEPxQt.;_ylu=X3oDMTByNWU4cGh1BGNvbG8DZ3ExBHBvcwMxBHZ0aWQDBHNlYwNzYw-?qid=20100110124107AATtuYZ
