WALTER JACKSON ANSWERED his cell phone on the first ring. It was reassuring to hear his sonorous voice and
easy laugh as he said, “I knew if someone was calling me midday on my personal cell phone, it had to be you.
You’re serious about not using any NYPD resources for Rob’s problem, aren’t you?”
“Technically, I’m using up your time while you’re on the clock. So I’m not totally innocent in this.”
Walter laughed. “Let me catch you up on what I’ve learned about this guy Arnold Marks. You had his stats pretty
close. You said a white male, age thirty-five to forty, and about six feet tall. He’s thirty-six and exactly six foot
one.”
“Was he born in the United States? I detected a slight accent.”
“It’s hazy. I can’t find much on him before seventeen years ago.”
“Does he have any licenses or anything in the public record?”
“He’s got his realtor’s license, and I saw his name associated with several housing developments on the fringes of
Los Angeles. Fairly big projects. I also found a couple of articles that list him as a developer of different projects.
There’s another article that r eports he was at the scene of a shooting.”
“Yeah, Rob mentioned something about that too,” I said. “Seems suspicious. How many realtors do you know who
get in volved in shootings?”
Walter said, “None here in New York, but God knows what goes on in Los Angeles.”
We chatted for a moment, then he filled me in on what had been happening in the bombing case since I’d spoken to
Maggie Chin earlier in
the day via text.
“No one’s claimed any responsibility for the bomb at the Midtown office building. One of the pedestrians hit by
broken glass died during the night.
That brings the death toll up to three. The building hasn’t yet been reopened. There are a lot of details they’re still
trying to figure out.”
“What about security video?”
“The bomb took out the security system for the building. Initially, it seemed like that was a coincidence, until we
discovered someone had bashed the outside box that sends images to the security company. The backup was held at
the building.”
“So there’s no usable security video?”
“Harry has people going through the other buildings in the area and checking their footage. There is a definite shift
in attitudes. People are getting nervous. Some of the TV stations are linking these two bombings to the one that
killed Sergeant Vega in Queens, as well as the burglary of the Picatinny Arsenal in New Jersey. Apparently, calls
about suspicious unattended bags have skyrocketed since yesterday. This morning, the Bomb Squad destroyed a
trumpet case that a musician had forgotten on the subway. They couldn’t get a decent look inside it because of the
case’s lead lining. That screwed up subway travel for a few hours.”
This conversation wasn’t doing anything to relieve my guilt over having left New York, though I knew that if I flew
home now, I’d feel guilty for not helping curb this LA businessman, who was probably responsible for at least
Lillian Mathis’s death.