But isn’t that just an artificial sense of accomplishment? “Kerry,” Walker said, “transpose number fourteen on that.”
A second later, a box appeared in the lower right, just above the text there. It was a list of data:
Cause: Explosion. Ninety percent probability from a methamphetamine lab.
Known Dead: Two Hispanic males, approximate age mid-20s, no known history. Both suffered fourth-degree burns. One of the deceased suffered a cut to the throat. Jagged flesh of cut thought to be made by serrated blade of knife found at scene.
Known Injured: Two, a White male and a White female. Male is one J. Warren Olde, age 27. Female is one Rebecca Benjamin, age 25. Olde suffered extreme burns, possibly/probably fourth-degree. Benjamin suffered lesser burns but serious blunt-force trauma. Both now in Temple Burn Ward ICU.
“That data,” Walker then added, “is due at any moment to be updated. As we know, Olde is now dead.”
“Yes, we do,” Police Commissioner Mariani said dryly.
“So let’s go to that,” Walker said almost excitedly.
“Why not the scene of the shooting at the Reading Terminal Market?” Mariani asked.
Coughlin thought he saw Walker wince.
“It would appear that the security camera system there has been neglected,” he said, looking a bit embarrassed.
“Meaning what exactly?” Mariani snapped.
“Compromised,” Walker said carefully. “Rendered inoperative.”
“Then we have nothing from this morning’s shooting.”
Walker shook his head. “No, sir. Nothing yet.”
“Jesus Christ!”
“We do have this,” Walker said. “Corporal Rapier, number fifteen, please, and put sixteen on it.”
The image of the Philly Inn disappeared and was replaced with a static shot of the Reading Terminal Market. The image even had text across it, reading, Visit Historic Reading Terminal Market!
Coughlin, despite great effort to hold it back, snorted.
Matt Lowenstein, Henry Quaire, and Jason Washington were showing rapt interest in their shoes’ tips and the color and texture of the carpet-anything not to make eye contact with one another.
“What in the hell is that?” Mariani said incredulously.
“Well, sir,” Walker said, “because we have no live feeds from the market, we pulled a stock image off the Internet to serve as a placeholder.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” Mariani sighed disgustedly. “What’s in here-a million bucks’ worth of gadgets? Two million?-and we’ve got a goddamn Chamber of Commerce promo picture of a crime scene!”
“We are working on a live feed, sir.” He waved his hand at the bank of TVs showing newscasts. “And we do have an image of the market via the FOX 29 news cameras, but it’s not a steady real-time feed.”
TV number sixteen popped up in a corner of the big image as an inset. It read:
Cause: Shooting. One hundred percent probability drug-related. Heroin-based product recovered at the scene, also 42 5.7- x 28-mm shell casings and 10 9-mm shell casings, and a Ruger P89 9-mm semi-auto pistol.
Known Dead: Two. One a Hispanic male, one Devon A. Desmond, age 22. Dual U.S.-Jamaican citizenship. Last Known Address 1805 E Boston St, Phila. Employed by the Mexican Mercado. One a White female juvenile, age 16, name of Kathleen Gingerich. Last Known Address a rural route in Lancaster County, Penna. Family owns Beiler’s Bakery.
Known Injured: Three, a White male and two White females. Male is one John Todd, of Phila. Two females are Japanese Nationals, approximate age 30, attending a convention of clothes designers at the Phila. Convention Center. Local address the Marriott Hotel at Filbert amp; 12th. All suffered bullet wounds believed to be from the 9-mm Ruger firearm. None life-threatening. Transported to Hahnemann Hospital.
“Kerry,” Walker then said. “Let’s go to seventeen.”
The main screen showed a crisp, clear, full-color image of the Temple University Hospital. There was a mix of unmarked Crown Victoria Interceptors and marked police cars, all with their lights flashing, lining the curbs.
The text in the lower right-hand corner read:
Temple University Hospital
Broad amp; Tioga 1158 hours, 24 Sept “And here we have a real-time feed of the hospital,” Walker said. He turned and looked at Corporal Rapier. “Eighteen, please, Kerry.”
The color image was replaced with a somewhat grainy black-and-white exterior shot of the Temple University Hospital. There were cars in the street and people on the sidewalk. But none moved. The image was frozen. The text read:
Temple University Hospital
CCD #21. POV: Eastward from Tioga/Broad 1046 hours, 24 Sept “You might find this one interesting,” Walker said. “Run it, Kerry.”
A second later, the cars began rolling and the people walking.
Then, at street level, an exit door to the hospital flew open. It almost struck two pedestrians. A Hispanic male wearing blue scrubs and holding a gun came out of the doorway. He immediately turned right and, as the steel exit door began to shut, ran down the sidewalk toward Germantown Avenue. The pedestrians started fleeing in the opposite direction.
“Jesus!” Mariani blurted. “There’s our doer!”
“Yes, sir!” Walker said a little too proudly.
The steel exit door then flew open again. Sergeant Matt Payne in plainclothes slowly came out in a crouch.
The Hispanic male, running down the center of Tioga, then turned and shot back at the exit door.
The camera clearly showed Matt Payne drop to his knees, then glance up at the door. After taking a quick look around the door edge, he took off after the doer, keeping to the sidewalk. The doer turned left on Germantown Avenue. When Payne went to follow, everyone in the room saw what he hadn’t-the taxicab flying down Tioga.
“Oh shit!” Henry Quaire blurted.
But then they saw Payne freeze and the cab swerve.
Payne then disappeared around the corner, headed up Germantown Avenue. And the black-and-white image froze again.
“We’re working,” Walker announced, “on getting any surveillance camera imagery along the route that Sergeant Payne stated he took in pursuit of the doer. Also, we have men reviewing the last two days of imagery from this same camera. They’re looking for foot and auto traffic anomalies or patterns on that sidewalk in case the victim was targeted, but randomly-”
“What about images from cameras inside the Burn Unit?” Matt Lowenstein asked, wondering why Walker would waste time with that.
“Those belong to the school,” Walker said with clear disdain. “They’re being cooperative, but due to technical compatibility problems, we’re having to use their equipment on site to review the very limited material they actually have. And I’m afraid it’s rather inferior to anything that we have here. Budgetary, you know. Someone had to decide whether to buy the latest scalpel or security camera…”
“Well, the good news,” said Henry Quaire, “is that what we just saw showswithout a doubt that the doer shot at Matt. He had every right to shoot back.”
“Commissioner Coughlin,” Lieutenant Jason Washington said, “what about Matt? What do we-or I-do with him now?”
Coughlin looked at ease. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Mariani repeated.
Coughlin nodded. “There was the discharge of his firearm. So until Internal Affairs officially clears him on that, he’s on administrative duty. Which works out fine, because I pretty much had him assigned to that already. He’s due out at the airport”-he looked at this wristwatch-“in about three hours.”
“Your call, Denny,” Mariani said.
“I would suggest one thing, Commissioner,” Coughlin said.
He pointed to the main screen. The video had started to loop, and now showed the critter kicking open the exit door and scattering the pedestrians.
When Mariani’s eyes went to it, the Hispanic was taking shots at the door and Payne was dropping to his knees.
“I wouldn’t let His Honor the Mayor see that,” Denny Coughlin went on. “He’s liable to slip it to the media. I think he likes that Wyatt Earp persona of Payne’s. Makes folks see that his administration stands with the police and isn’t afraid to boldly go after the bad guys.”