Not exactly an easy thing to do when you hadn’t had much positivity in your life. The phone on Nolan’s desk rang, and he picked it up. Harper finished his drink and entered his notes on the case.
“Let’s go.” Nolan sprang out of his chair. “We got another one. Same MO. Two riding on a scooter. The lady was with her two little kids, holding her phone, and the jack-offs sped past and grabbed it out of her hand. Two unis on the scene now. Corner of Henry and Remsen.”
They took off and made it to the scene in less than fifteen minutes. A woman in her midthirties was talking to two officers. Two little kids waited by her side, and the younger one was crying.
“What do we have?” He flashed his badge, earning wide-eyed stares from the children. “Detective Rose and my partner, Detective Martinez.”
“I was telling the officers that I was standing on the corner, waiting for the light to change, talking to my children, when this motorbike turned the corner and almost knocked me down. One of them grabbed my phone right from my hand.” Her brown eyes flashed with anger. “And scared my son.”
“I wasn’t scared, Mommy,” the older boy piped up, and Harper grinned to himself.
“You weren’t?” he asked. “Do you know what these bad men looked like?” Sometimes kids were better witnesses than their parents.
“Yeah. One wore a black shirt with a smiley face on the back of it and white sneakers with a gold swoop on them. He had long braids.” The little boy scrunched up his face. “Oh, yeah. The guy driving had a tattoo, not like Uncle Colson with birds, but, um…a face…with like horns and stuff out of its head. It was ugly.”
Harper pulled out his phone and brought up a picture of the devil tattoo one of the other victims had identified on their assailant. “Like this?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” the boy said excitedly.
Not to be left out, the younger one had recovered and nodded. “Uh-huh, like that.”
“You didn’t see it, Mikey. You were too scared.”
“Did so.”
The two little boys continued to argue, and Harper was curious about the Uncle Colson remark. He approached the mother, who was busy giving a statement to Nolan.
“Your sons gave a great description of the people who stole your phone. Better than many adults.”
Her expression was one of wry amusement. “I was afraid they’d be too scared, but I guess they’re braver than me.”
“It is scary,” Harper rushed to reassure her. “But we have enough of a description to know they’re part of a gang running around this area. Your boys don’t seem to be suffering any ill effects.” He glanced over at the two children, who were still trying to one-up each other about who saw what, complete with hand gestures and very loud voices.
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “You see that? They’re going to argue all night now about who saw more and brag to myhusband.” She made a face. “Oh God, I don’t even have a way of telling him what happened. And I have credit card info stored on the phone.”
“We can call him for you, if you’d like.”
“Would you mind? His name is Hogan Carmichael, and he works at Pomerantz and Co.”
Harper chuckled. “This is the second time I’m calling your husband. The first time was when we suspected Colson Delacourt of planning a murder. We were wrong, of course, but when your son mentioned an Uncle Colson and his tattoos, I figured it had to be him.”
Her jaw dropped, and she let out a hearty laugh. “That was you? Oh, I heard all about it. Too funny because Colson is the sweetest, most gentle man. The boys adore him.”
He made the call and gave her his phone to speak to her husband. When she finished and handed it to him, her smile was one of pure satisfaction. “Thank you, Detective Rose.”
“We’ll be in touch, Mrs. Carmichael. Here’s my card if you need to reach me.”
She tucked it away in her purse. “Thanks. Or I guess I could just ask Colson?” Knowing eyes met his, and not for the first time he cursed how small the neighborhood was. Whoever said New York City was anonymous didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.
“We’re friends, yes.” And he intended to get even friendlier that weekend if everything worked out well.
“Tell him I said hi. I think you’ll probably be seeing him before I will.” She couldn’t conceal her grin, but he remained stoic, his answer bland.
“We’ll be in touch, Mrs. Carmichael.”
He and Nolan questioned several people on the street but didn’t gather any more crucial information. At the precinct, they wrote up and filed their reports. He pocketed his keys and wallet.
“I’ll see you Monday.” He saluted Nolan, who called out after him, “I expect a recap.”
