Free Dead End Street by Sheila Connolly Page B

somebody’s got to try. You told me it was the woman who noticed the car first, right?”
    â€œYes. Tyrone was turned away, talking to me in the backseat. Cherisse saw the car on its second pass by us, and mentioned it, but Tyrone was too busy to look. The third time by was when they started shooting.”
    â€œCherisse didn’t recognize anyone? Or the car?”
    â€œShe didn’t say. Only that she’d noticed the car passing us more than once. They were going pretty slowly, and it was clear they were looking at us. There was nothing else to see on that block.”
    â€œDid Chapman seem nervous?”
    â€œOnly after she’d seen the car a second time. Detective, what is this all about?”
    Detective Hrivnak sighed. “Look, the department wants to close this case, call it a random shooting. I’m not so sure, but I don’t have much to go on, and nothing that’s going to change their minds. Not yet.”
    I knew the detective could be a bulldog when she wanted to find something, and she didn’t take the easy way out. “Why are you not sure?”
    â€œSo far we haven’t found any reason why anyone would want any of you dead, or at least out of commission or scared off. Of course, it’s only been one day, but nothing jumps out. No attempt at robbery, right?”
    I shook my head. “No. They could have stopped and grabbed wallets, purses, phones, whatever. They should know how long it would take the cops to show up, and they would have had time, right?” I hoped she didn’t take that the wrong way, but I’d seen myself that the cops had been skeptical about the 911 call.
    â€œProbably. So they didn’t want your cash or phones or whatever, and they kind of messed up the car, so it wasn’t so they could take that.”
    â€œThis about drugs?” Marty said.
    â€œIt’s a problem in that part of town, all right,” Detective Hrivnak told her. “And gangs—Puerto Ricans, Irish, black,Dominican, Polish, Asian. You name it, they’re on the street dealing.”
    I was beginning to wonder why I worked in Philadelphia at all, if it was so dangerous. Ignorance was bliss, maybe, but I couldn’t claim to be ignorant any longer. “Any evidence that the house we were looking at was a drug, er, den?”
    â€œNope—it was too far gone to support a lot of traffic. This one was pretty exposed, so nobody could go in and out easily. Although that could cut both ways—no one could sneak up on the house without being noticed. But there are plenty of other houses to use.”
    â€œDetective, what are you trying to tell us?” I finally asked.
    â€œUnless it was some gang member proving himself, there’s no reason for anyone who didn’t know you to shoot at you. How old was the shooter?”
    â€œNot a kid, if that’s what you’re asking. I guessed thirties, or maybe late twenties. Do you know what the weapon was?”
    â€œWhat, you can’t identify a make and model from twenty feet while it’s firing at you?” she said snidely, then quickly corrected herself. “Sorry, that’s not fair. I know you know guns, but I’ll give you a pass this time. The slugs we removed from both victims were thirty-eight caliber.”
    â€œThat’s pretty common for street punks, isn’t it?” I said.
    â€œYeah—it was nothing fancy. Not in the system, either—I had our lab check.”
    We all digested that information for a few seconds. Then I said, “Why’d you push to get the casings identified so quickly? I didn’t think autopsies and forensic stuff happened so fast.”
    â€œBecause you were there.”
    â€œWhat?” Marty and I said in unison.
    Hrivnak’s mouth twitched. “How many crimes you been involved in? Five, six? Maybe I’m superstitious, but I figure if you’re involved, it ain’t gonna be an easy