Page 13 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

“I didn’t say I seen a logo. I said he was pretending to be a UPS guy.”

“Or just a guy dressed in brown.”

“Yeah, well, this man—the one who’s all dressed in brown—after he takes the shot, he breaks down the Barrett .50 and he puts it in a big, long box. I couldn’t see no words on it, but you could make out that it was red and brown. Then he gets his ass off the roof, and me, I keep looking out my cell window, and sure enough, a couple minutes later, the guy in thebrown pants and brown shirtcomes out the front door. Only now he’s got a dolly with a bunch of boxes, and I’ll bet you a dinner at Sylvia’s that thatbig-assgun is in one of them. And then...”

A born showman, Elroy sat back, puffed up hisprison-buffchest, and made sure he had total command of his audience. “And then he rolls his dolly to a big motherfucking brown truck with a big motherfuckingU,P,Son the side, loads up, and drives away, slick as snail snot. You find that guy, you got your killer. And don’t forget who helped you nail him.”

Elroy’s lawyer, a reluctant participant who had spent most of the interview in stony silence, suddenly saw a bigWlight up on the scoreboard. “Ms. Kaplan,” he said, “I think my client has proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he brings critical new evidence that will definitely benefit the police in solving this very public homicide. Are you ready to make a deal?”

“Yes,” she said.

One final broad smile spread across Elroy Lafontant’s face, and he turned to Kylie. “You and me, Detective MacDonald—we sure do make one hell of a team, don’t we?”

CHAPTER 9

Two detectivesfrom the DA’s office led Elroy back to his cell. His lawyer, energized by his newfound negotiating power, followed Selma to her office to hammer out a deal.

As soon as the room cleared, Cates reentered. “I have the commissioner,” she said, holding up her phone.

“Kylie, Zach,” the PC said. “Great job.”

“Thank you, sir,” we replied in unison.

“We have to find that UPS truck,” he said.

“Kylie and I are all over it, sir.”

“Anything I can do to help—I mean anything: manpower, overtime—just say the word,” he said.

“Well, now that you mention it, there is one thing you can do, sir,” Kylie said.

“Name it, Detective.”

“You got a guy at UPS?”

He laughed hard. “You mean you don’t want to shovel through six levels of corporate bullshit before you can talk to somebody who has the juice to get things done?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, sir.”

“I’ve got your man. Ted White. I’ll call him as soon as I hang up.”

“Thank you, boss,” I said.

“Happy to help. Two more things.”

I took out my notepad. It’s not every day the PC is heavily invested in one of our cases.

“Brooke Hellman,” he said. “I know you’re taking a good look at her.”

“Commissioner, the Hellman brothers were murdered by professionals,” Kylie said. “Someone paid a lot to have them killed. Mrs. Hellman is about to inherit a small fortune as the result of their deaths. So yes sir, we are taking a long, hard look at her.”

“As you should. And if she’s behind it, you can lock her up, and I’ll explain to Mayor Sykes that not all her political supporters are thestand-upcitizens they pretend to be. But...” He paused. Maybe it was for effect. Or maybe it was to make sure he chose his words carefully. “There’s enough friction betweenOne-PPand Gracie Mansion as it is, so unless you have concrete evidence against Brooke Hellman, I need you to tread lightly.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Last but a long damn way from least,” he said, “Warren Hellman’s lawyer, Sonia Blakely, is raising hell in the media. She’s saying that nobody had more of a motive to murder her client than Evan Belmont. That woman works the media the same way she works a jury. The first thing she did was turn Evan Belmont’s words against him. He stood there with the cameras rolling, and he made it clear that he believed he didn’t get justice in the courthouse. Blakely twisted that to imply that he dealt out his own brand of vigilante justice.”

Cates jumped in. “She’s just grandstanding, sir.”

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