Winter Market

Park Slope, Brooklyn, NY

Monday, May 19

Alex and Bobby peered around the corner of the building, glanced at each other, and then separated. A man had left the car and was climbing the cement steps to the loading dock entrance. Alex drew her gun as her partner quietly made a wide circle to approach from the other side.

When Bobby was in place she yelled, "Police! You can't go in there, sir!" She strode toward the building.

The man spun clumsily and nearly toppled into the truck bay. He grabbed onto an iron railing and dropped to his knees. He didn't look dangerous, but Alex kept her gun trained on him as Bobby approached with his arm outstretched to show his shield.

"Come down," Bobby said. "This is a crime scene – no one's allowed in there."

The man obeyed with his hands raised. "Sorry, sorry! I'm the – this is my store, and I was just – just - I wanted to – my father was – I need to-"

Alex holstered her gun as the man babbled, completely unnerved. He was overweight, in his late forties and starting to go gray. He was well dressed, though a bit disheveled - he looked like the kind of man who couldn't keep his shirttails tucked in.

Bobby held up a hand to silence him. "We need to see some ID."

"I'm Ron Winter," he said, reaching for his wallet. He took quick breaths, probably trying to steady himself. "My father was the one who – uh - I wanted to make sure the store's locked down."

Bobby scratched the back of his head and Alex frowned – Winter's concern was a little late. As Alex checked his ID, she replied, "The police have taken care of that, Mr. Winter. You can't go in there now."

"Yeah, sorry, I should have known," Winter said. "I thought I should take down the banner about the opening – not that it's important..."

Bobby leaned close to him. "Was that what you were worried about? The banner?"

Winter backed away. "No! Look, I was just with my mother – she's distraught, as you can imagine, and I guess I'm not thinking too clearly, either. I lost my father tonight, Officers, and I don't want anything else happening on top of that tragedy."

Alex studied Ron Winter. She knew from experience not to judge solely based on a person's behavior, but she found it odd he didn't ask what happened to his father. That had been the first question asked by his sister and by John Lasalle. She checked his shoes: black.

"We're very sorry for your loss, Mr. Winter," she said. "I'm Detective Eames – I called you earlier..."

"Yes, yes, of course." Winter was regaining his balance.

"This is my partner," she continued, "Detective Goren."

Bobby said, "Since you're here, maybe we can get your statement."

"Sure – um, I don't know what help I can be," Winter said, rubbing his hands together as though he felt cold. His eyes darted all around.

"Let's start with where you were this evening," Alex said, reaching into her pocket for her notepad.

"Me? I worked at our Queens store all day – it's in Long Island City - and then I went home and turned on the news on TV – that's where I was when I got the call about my father."

"Where's home?" Bobby asked.

"Middle Village." That was also in Queens. They'd learned from Lasalle that the senior Winters and Frannie both lived here in Park Slope.

Alex asked, "What time did you get home?"

"Let's see..." Winter pulled an iPhone off his belt and poked at its screen. "It would have been... almost six o'clock."

Bobby edged around to Winter's side and peeked at the device. "How did-" He grinned widely at Winter. "How did you find out where you were from that? Does it – you know – track you? Like GPS?"

Alex kept her face stern, although she was tempted to laugh as her partner pretended to be a techie novice. It almost always worked – Bobby's act allowed people to feel superior, and they let down their defenses.

"No, nothing like that," Winter said with a chuckle. "I was just checking the time stamp on a call from the assistant manager at our Queens store – I was home when he called. But it does have a GPS app if I need driving directions, see?" He touched the screen a few times and tilted the phone for Bobby to see.

"Wow," Bobby said. "That's one of those, uh... smart phones? Do you have a lot of, of..."

"Apps. Applications." Winter smiled at him. "It's really addicting. They keep improving these things. I stood on line for hours last year to buy this, and I already need to upgrade."

"It's a racket," Alex said. "So - were you home alone?"

"For a while, yes - my wife and son got home after I did," Winter said. He looked nervous again. "She picked him up from baseball practice at the high school. Then the call came in about my father, and I went right out."

"And you went to...?" Bobby asked.

"My parents' house. My sister was coming here, and I didn't want my mother left alone. We didn't know what had happened, what was going on."

Bobby leaned close again. "You thought your mother was in danger, too?"

"I didn't know! I couldn't take a chance."

"I see," Bobby said. "Does your father have enemies? Your sister mentioned a competitor: Mr. Bel- umm, Bellair?"

"Beldsen," Winter said, nodding energetically. "Ben Beldsen. I don't think he would hurt anyone, but the man does have a hot temper. He threatened my father with all sorts of law suits over this store."

"Did he ever threaten him physically?" Alex asked.

Winter shrugged, but before he could reply, his phone sang out loudly; Alex didn't recognize the ring-tone - something country and western. Winter glanced at it. "I need to take this call." He stepped away from them as he hunched over his phone.

Bobby tilted his head to meet Alex's eye. He spoke quietly. "It's odd: he's not curious about what happened to his father."

"Very odd," Alex said. "He's more interested in his phone."

"Well..." Bobby scratched his chin. "He may have talked to Frannie after she left here – she would've told him what she knew."

"Maybe." Alex looked at her partner steadily. She wanted to be fair to Ron, but he'd rubbed her the wrong way. "I'm betting Ron's already looked up what he gets in the will."

Winter's conversation was short – he returned in less than two minutes. "I need to get to JFK to meet my brother's flight from Florida," he said, clipping the phone onto his belt. "You have my number – let me know if you need the security tapes, or whatever it takes to get the person who did this." He started toward his car.

"Mr. Winter," Alex called, and waited until he looked back. "About the security system: there was a problem tonight. The cameras were off at the time of your father's death."

"Oh. Off? So..."

"You didn't know that?" Bobby asked.

"I – I - I know they had problems with the cameras and locks recently," Winter said.

All of a sudden Winter looked very nervous again. Alex gave a quick glance at her partner – he'd caught the change, too.

"Have you spent much time at the new store?" Bobby asked.

"Some - helping to get it set up. Not as much time as John Lasalle or my father, of course, but..."

"Did you see your father today?" Alex asked.

"No. I called him a couple of times – uh, about the ribbon-cutting ceremony. He was all keyed up about that, as you can imagine." He backed away a couple steps. "Look, I really have to get to the airport."

They watched as he climbed into his sedan and left.

"He's not upset that his father was murdered," Bobby said. "But he is jumpy about the security problem."

"Everyone reacts differently. Hey, at least he didn't squeeze out crocodile tears." Alex gave a quick yank to Bobby's sleeve. "We're done here. Food. Now."

MCS, 1PP, NY

Tuesday, May 20

Bobby brought coffee the next morning they when met early to view the security tapes. He'd seemingly shaken off whatever was bothering him, so Alex relaxed and concentrated on their work.

They were in the video room when they saw the captain enter the squad room. Within a few minutes he joined them.

Ross gestured at the screen, which showed the Winter Market stock area, where men pushed hand carts stacked high with boxes. "Didn't you say the cameras were off at the time of death?" Ross asked.

"They were," Alex replied. "We're looking at the video leading up to it, and all the other camera shutdowns."

Bobby said, "The security system was installed two months ago by Safety Shield. Then, starting eleven days ago, it shut down a total of six times, including last night. Safety Shield hasn't been able to track the source of the failures. There's been construction work inside and outside, which might be related."

Alex added, "And there's another twist: the alarm goes off, but not when the shutdown happens. There's always a delay. During that gap the store is wide open, but no one knows it."

Bobby referred to a sheet of paper in his hand. "Most of the gaps were short: less than ten minutes. The longest by far was last night: just shy of thirty minutes."

"So what's on the tapes?" Ross asked. "Is there a pattern?"

"No one person was present at all the failures – not even Robert Winter," Alex replied. "But we saw a pattern as far as timing. It never happened during the middle of the night: nothing after nine PM and nothing earlier than about seven AM."

"If this was randomly caused by a hardware or software malfunction," Bobby said, "it ought to have occurred in the off-hours at least once."

"This perp had to be home and in bed early, I guess," Ross said with a smirk.

"Also," Bobby added, "they were grouped: three close together; a gap of four days; then another three."

Ross asked, "Did any other Safety Shield customers have this problem?"

Both detectives shook their heads. "Not even the other Winter Market store," Alex said.

"Then let's go on the assumption that the shutdowns were intentionally caused," Ross said. "Find out who has access to the system."

"We've scheduled interviews with the employees at the new store," Bobby said. "That's eighteen people."

"Safety Shield sent over the list of employees with access to Winter Market's system," Alex said. "No criminal record on any of them."

"Did you get the coroner's report?" Ross asked.

Alex offered him the papers. "Cause of death was loss of blood from the head wound. There are no bruises or marks to indicate a struggle," she said. "No heart attack, no stroke, no allergic reaction, no meds other than his prescriptions." She sighed. "He shouldn't be dead."

"Did anything pop on the fingerprints?" Ross asked.

"There were some matches to Safety Shield personnel," Alex replied, "but they're on the list of people assigned to Winter Market. We'll be interviewing them, too."

"The tapes stopped yesterday just after six," Bobby said, "and came on again at six-forty-five when the Safety Shield guard arrived. Doctor Rodgers puts the time of death closer to six."

Alex said, "There were signs of blood cleaned up, as though someone got it on their shoe. The only blood type there was Robert Winter's – we'll get the full report on that later today."

Ross scanned the sheet and handed it back to Alex as he asked, "I take it there've been no hits on Winter's credit cards?"

Bobby shook his head. "Between the safe and the wallet, this person has close to eight thousand dollars cash – he doesn't need to risk getting caught with stolen credit cards."

"Let's hope he gets greedy," Ross said as he turned toward his office.

After the captain was gone Alex said, "The first five events - someone was doing this as practice, waiting till there was cash in the safe."

"...and waiting for people to ignore it – you know, the boy who cried wolf," Bobby said.

Alex nodded. "Probably no one was supposed to notice until the morning."

"Except that Robert Winter got in the way."

Quick Mart

Long Island City, Queens, NY

Tuesday, May 20

Alex stood back as her partner opened the door of the tiny convenience store for her. She peered inside and honestly wondered if there was room for the two of them. The aisles were claustrophobically narrow; the ceiling was low; the shelves were overloaded with chips, candy, sport drinks and every sort of enticing junk food.

At the checkout counter they showed the woman their shields and asked for Jared McKay, the man who'd been fired from Winter Market. She pointed to the back of the store. "He's on break – the green door."

Alex led the way. She muttered, "Why do I feel like it's all going to fall down on top of us?"

"At least you don't have to turn sideways," Bobby replied.

Alex glanced over her shoulder: sure enough, his shoulders were hunched and he was side-stepping and ducking past an overhanging beef jerky display. She gave a quick huff of laughter and knocked at the dented metal door marked "Authorized Personnel Only".

A gruff voice behind the door yelled, "I got five more minutes, dammit!"

Alex grinned at Bobby and knocked again, harder. This time they heard a string of curses.

When the door was yanked open Bobby reached in, grabbed the man's shirt and pulled him forward. He held his shield close to the man's face. "Watch your language in front of Detective Eames."

They both stared angrily at the man as he squirmed through an insincere apology. He smelled of stale cigarettes and looked as though he hadn't changed clothes recently. He was thin, but in an unhealthy, strung-out way. His beard grew in unattractive, scruffy patches on his cheeks. If customers got a look at a worker like this they'd never make a purchase.

"Are you Jared McKay?" Alex asked.

He nodded. "So I guess they called the cops on me after all."

Alex caught Bobby's eye for a second. Rather than correct McKay's assumption, they'd let him talk. He might reveal something relevant.

"You're surprised by that?" Bobby said.

"Look, they got their damn cigarettes back," McKay said. "The cartons weren't even opened or nothing. And it was just a mistake, okay?"

"Right, a mistake," Alex said. She wanted to see what he knew about the security lapses. "Didn't you know about the security cameras?"

McKay raised his palms. "Yeah, but there's gaps – you know? It goes around from one camera to the other, so there's gaps."

Bobby frowned and asked, "How'd you find out about these gaps? Civilians aren't supposed to know."

"I saw it on TV – they did one of those investigative reports, you know?"

"All that research, and still you got caught red-handed," Alex said.

"Hey, I told you it was a mistake! Ronnie was cool about it – he was going to take 'em back and forget about it. If old man Winter didn't stick his damn nose into it, everybody'd still be happy."

"That's funny," Bobby said with a dry chuckle. "Old Man Winter."

McKay didn't respond – he didn't even understand his own joke. Alex met Bobby's glance and rolled her eyes.

Bobby grew serious as he continued. "You mean Mr. Robert Winter?" He opened his binder and drew out a large color photo of the dead man. "This man?"

"Damn!" McKay said, recoiling from the gory picture. "Who did that to him?"

"That's what we wanted to ask you," Alex said, "considering how angry you are about being fired by him."

"Uh-uh - not angry like that!" he said, pointing at the picture. "Look, I never touched him. And I never stole nothing before."

"You mean you never got caught before," Alex said.

As McKay tried to sputter out a denial Bobby interrupted. "You weren't getting paid enough? You needed more money for what? Your habit, maybe?" He grabbed McKay's wrist and quickly pushed back the sleeve. However, there were no needle track marks.

McKay pulled his arm away. "No way, man! I don't do dope!"

Bobby leaned close and sniffed at McKay's shirt. Alex grimaced – she was sure her stomach would heave if she got a good whiff of him.

Bobby said, "But you smoke weed." He winked and grinned. "Hey, right?"

"Not at work!" McKay brushed at his shirt. "Isn't it, like, legal in California?"

Alex sighed. This man was too shiftless to have made the effort to go all the way to Brooklyn and attack Robert Winter. Beyond that, she'd be surprised if he had enough tech savvy to send a text message, let alone break into Winter Market's security system.

She asked, "So, Jared, where were you yesterday?"

"Yesterday? I worked here nine to five."

"And after work?" Bobby asked.

"I went home and stayed home."

"No, see," Alex said, "we just came from your apartment, and your girlfriend said she kicked you out last week."

Bobby said, "Want to try that answer again?"

"Um, yeah, that's right," McKay said. "I moved outta there last week, like she said. I, uh, been staying with my ex until I find a place."

"Your ex-wife?" Alex said, rolling her eyes. "You expect us to believe she'd put up with you?"

Bobby took his arm. "Guess what, Jared? You get to go downtown until we check out your alibi." He turned and signaled to the two uniformed officers who were waiting at the front of the store.

Alex shook her head. They had to make sure, but it was likely McKay barely had bus fare to get to Park Slope. If he'd taken seventy-five hundred dollars cash from Winter's safe he'd be out on a bender right now. He wasn't their murderer.