“Even from a distance, I can tell how tall he was because that’s what I do,” I replied. I glanced nervously at Patsy who was watching me in earnest. I rushed to add, “I’m a mathematician and statistician. I don’t know how to explain it to anyone who isn’t except to say that I am 97 percent sure I’m right.”
The detective smiled and then glanced at his partner. “Make sure you note that, Mike.”
The older detective nodded, doing his best to hide a smile with thinned lips as he scribbled. “Got it.”
“Can you tell me how much the shorter one weighed…approximately?”
I thought about it. “One hundred and seventy-two pounds which is less accurate than his height because he was wearing a coat.”
Detective Ryan nodded. “But if I were to guess, you already accounted for that?”
I felt myself smile just a little. “Of course.”
“And you can tell he was one hundred seventy-two pounds under a coat?” Napoleon asked.
“If Wes says he can, he can,” Patsy said, jumping in. He sounded almost defensive…of me.
I looked over at him. He wore a bit of a surprised expression, but it was the affection in his voice which couldn’t be missed.
“Okay, then…and that man was wearing loafers, you said?”
“Yes, dark in color with tassels.”
“Tassels,” he replied flatly.
I nodded. “And the coat was a nice one, not something off the rack.”
“You could tell that from a distance? How far away were you? I didn’t ask.”
“Patsy and I were about fifty feet away when we first spotted them assaulting Father Gilmartin but then I started running and got as close as thirty feet before they took off.” I looked over at Detective Williams who was writing everything in his notebook. “And, you can always tell if clothing is off the rack. It’s in the tailoring.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true,” he said. “Okay, anything else? Hair color, age, eye color?”
“They both wore Fedora type hats, very uncharacteristic for this neighborhood,” I replied. “I got the impression they came right off the set of The Godfather or something. And no, I couldn’t make out facial features, their ages, or hair color on either man.”
“Okay, what about the second man?”
I gave the detectives my best calculations of height and weight of the second, taller assailant and watched as Williams took notes. When I was finished, they thanked me and then went to talk to Father Gilmartin as Patsy pulled me back into the kitchen with Napoleon to make a fresh pot of tea for the priest.
“Ya never told me that ya were a mathematician, Wes,” Patsy said with a smile.
I nodded. “And a statistician.”
“That description of the assailants was surprising in its accuracy,” Napoleon added as I put the kettle back on. When I turned back to them, they were smiling at each other.
“It’s simple math.”
“Ya new job is with Caltech Seismological Laboratory,” Patsy said. “Is that what you’ll be doin’ for them?”
I chuckled. “What I’ll be doing for Caltech is a lot more involved than simple math, I assure you. My job is to help enhance their existing models and, in many cases, build new models for earthquake predictions.”
Patsy’s jaw dropped open. “Holy Mother of God, that’s impressive work, Wes.” He sounded awed by the knowledge which made me blush just a little. To hide the flush, I pivoted back to the stove and went to grab the kettle with my left hand, forgetting the wound in my bicep. Pain shot down my arm so fast and hard, I felt dizziness wash over me. I must have stumbled back because a second later, I had a man on either side of me, supporting my weight as they steadied me on my feet.
“Shite!” Patsy exclaimed. “I forgot all about yer own injuries.” I could hear the deep regret in his voice as he and Napoleon steered me to a small booth built into a kitchen nook a few feet from the stove. I grabbed the edge of the Formicatabletop with my right hand as I dropped onto a padded bench. “Ya stay there while I finish up with the detectives and Father Gilmartin, then I’m takin’ ya home with me.”
I felt a sudden panic at his words. “Oh, no, Patsy, that’s not going to work, but if you want to drop me back at my car—”
“No, Wes!” He leaned over, bracing both hands on the table as he frowned down at me. “Listen to me. Ya may not know me yet, but here’s what’s goin’ to happen. I’ll take ya home with me where you can get a hot meal and a hot shower, and you’ll be sleepin’ in my bed until yer all healed up.” When I opened my mouth to protest, he cut me off again. “I’ll sleep on the couch and yer not to argue with me.”
