Teddy went down to the police station to find out about the status of his case.
The sergeant shook a gloomy head. “You’ll have to talk to the ADA.”
“Which one?”
“Rollins, I think.”
ADA Jason Rollins wasn’t any help. “We charged him, and he made bail.”
“Charged him with what?”
“Attempted burglary.”
“He was armed.”
“Half the thugs we pick up are armed. They carry guns and don’t take them off to commit a burglary. It’s not as if the judge made it easy on him. Bail was a hundred thousand.”
“Who put it up?”
“The lawyer did. Good luck finding out who paid him.”
“When will it go to court?”
The ADA shrugged. “Not for a few months. The case isn’t even on the docket yet.”
“So I can’t find out what this creep was up to?”
“That’s the way the system works. His rights are protected. Yours, not so much.”
Teddy pulled up in front of Chaz Bowen’s apartment building. It occurred to him he should have taken a production car. This was not the type of neighborhood in which he liked to leave his vintage Porsche. He went up on the front steps and checked the buzzers, finding the one marked Bowen, 2A, but he didn’t ring it. He inserted a short piece of metal into the door lock and had it open in ten seconds.
Teddy went up the stairs to 2A. He didn’t bother to knock. The guy hadn’t knocked on his door. Fair is fair.
Teddy kicked the door in fast, leading with his gun.
The body of Chaz Bowen lay facedown in the middle of the floor. He’d been shot once in the back of the head.
A whiskey bottle lay shattered around him.
From the look of things, Chaz Bowen had been dead for several hours and the killer was long gone, but Teddy still made a sweep of the apartment to make sure he was alone.
A familiar red-and-blue flashing light cast a faint glow in the apartment.
Teddy rushed to the window. He flattened himself against the wall and peered out.
A police car had stopped out front and two uniformed cops were getting out.
Teddy didn’t wait to see what they were up to. He slipped out the apartment door and took the stairs up.
The brownstone had four floors. There was a fifth flight up, leading to an access door to the roof. The door was securely fastened by a heavy-duty chain locked with an equally heavy-duty padlock. Teddy made quick work of it. He pulled the chain loose, wrenched the door open, and stepped out onto the roof.
The brownstone next door was only three stories high. What a waste of real estate, Teddy thought.
He went back to the stairwell. The chain that had been holding the door shut was pretty long. Teddy unwound it and pulled it free. He took it up on the roof, letting the door close behind him.
At the edge of the roof was a standpipe about six inches high. Teddy had no idea what it was for, but it looked solid. He looped the end of the chain around it and locked it with the padlock. He dangled the chain over the side of the roof and tested it. It seemed sturdy enough. He lowered himself over the edge of the roof and climbed down.
The access door to the roof of the three-story brownstone was locked from the inside, but there was a fire escape on the back of the building. Teddy dropped down onto it.
Lights were on in the third-floor apartment, and Teddy could see movement through the window. He sprinted down the fire escape to the first floor, hung off the bottom, and dropped to the ground.
Teddy was in luck. The backyards of the buildings connected. He was able to creep along until he got to the alley. He hurried down it and peered out into the street.
Teddy had parked his car a block away out of habit. He hurried to it, climbed in, and started the motor.
In his rearview mirror he could see the red and blue lights flashing as he pulled away.