“I haven’t seen him. We need this victim transported first. Have Rothstein bagged and tagged, tagged priority.”
“I’ll coordinate with Morris. Dallas, do you know how many dead?”
Eve got to her feet. Medicals continued to triage the wounded, but many had been taken inside, the uninjured were cleared and released.
It looked, she thought, like a battlefield after combat, bodies strewn over the cold and bloody pavement. She could count fourteen down, beyond help. There could be more.
“Let’s take it one at a time.”
In the end it would be sixteen dead on scene, two others who died of their wounds within hours. Another eighty-four injured.
They would weigh on her, every one, as in the cold, cold hour before dawn she left the dead to go inside. To do what came next.
She looked around the huge sweep of the lobby, the marble floors under the brilliance of the lights. Crossed to Jenkinson.
“Fill me in,” she said.
“Conflicting reports. Most people don’t know what the hell. The bulk of them never got outside, got banged up, knocked down, trampled in here. Somebody started yelling about a bomb and that lit the fricking fuse.”
Face grim and tired, he, too, looked around the lobby area, cleared of wounded now, but with smears of blood still on the floor, and scattered belongings dropped and forgotten in the panic.
“Same deal outside, from what we’re getting. Conflictings on the first strike, but I got a security guard who kept his head, and he’s firm the first couple went down around one-fifty, one-fifty-five. Say ten minutes after people began crowding out.
After rubbing the back of his neck, Jenkinson checked his notes. “A male, black topcoat, blond medium-length hair—that’s who the guard says took the first hit. Then a female, black or gray coat, red hair, but he says the first victim took a second hit, and maybe three hits. He’s not sure if it was after the second vic went down or the third. Things started to get crazy.”
“Was this guy ever on the job?”
“Funny you should ask. Put in twenty-five, most of it in Queens.”
“He’s still got it. First vic, male, black coat, blond hair, was the lawyer. Rothstein, Jonah. Three hits. Keep the guard on tap in case he remembers more details. DBs are in the morgue or on the way. Still some injured being treated outside, but it’s under control. I need this sector blocked off until we clear it all. You and Reineke can switch off with Carmichael and Santiago, get some crib time.”
“I hear that. You need more of us down here, Loo, we’re good for it. Took a booster.” He scrubbed his face. “Hate those bastards.”
“I hear that. A little crib time, because you won’t get much more today. Where’s EDD set up?”
It took her a full five minutes at a brisk stride to make it to the impressive security area where her geek team was working. She glanced at the screens, tried to block out the e-chatter, and saw the beams striking the Seventh Avenue area of Madison Square from Lexington and from Third. The Murray Hill area, she noted.
“We’re narrowing it,” Feeney told her, “or Lowenbaum and Berenski are.”
Dickhead, she thought, watching him hunched over a monitor with Lowenbaum.
“If she’s
using the same weapon as her asshole father had, we think we got it pegged down to a couple blocks.” Berenski rolled his shoulders, swiveled on his stool. “You add the weapon factors in, range, velocity, calculate full power because why the hell not, and—”
“You can save the formula for now, and just give me the most likelies. Maybe later I’ll have you give me a lesson on the rest.”
He blinked, rubbed his excuse for a moustache. “Yeah, sure. Could do that.”
“We’re leaning here.” Roarke highlighted three buildings. “Two on Lex, one on Third.”
“She likes the East Side,” Eve noted. “Knows that area best.”
“Apparently. Having our weapons experts add to the program has narrowed it considerably. These three are all low security, rental units or flops.”
“We’ll start there. Can you apply the same to the Times Square hit?”
“Doing that,” McNab said. “We’ll be able to give you most likelies, with these factors.”