The little boy giggled as he squeezed the doll again.
A shaky, recorded voice said, Oh, geez.
Brooke, Glossners six-year-old daughter, snickered from the other bed.
Glossner said, Are you sure youve never watchedRick and Morty?
The little boy kept smiling and shook his head.
How did Grandpa know youd like this Morty doll?
Jeremy shrugged his little shoulders and kept the huge grin on his face.
From the other bed, Brooke said, Grandpa is smart.
He said thats why me and Jeremy are smart.
It skips a generation.
Glossner couldnt keep from laughing out loud at that.
His father often threatened to buy the kids a drum set if he didnt get to see them enough.
Jeremy was an amazingly still sleeper.
Glossner would often find him in the same position in the morning.
The boy looked like a tiny mummy.
He stepped over to his daughters bed and leaned down to give her a kiss.
Brooke said, Daddy, can we go to the LEGO store soon?
Whats my engineer need this time?
They have a new Star Wars collection.
I just need one more TIE fighter.
When did you guys go full science fiction on me?
Brooke smiled and said, Were not from the olden days.
We grew up this way.
Six whole years of growing up.
Nothing like the dark ages I had to live through.
He kissed his daughter on the forehead.
Once upon a time, I had to watch the commercials during Giants games.
No fast- forwarding and no pausing either.
Glossner slipped out of the bedroom and down the hallway.
His wife, Victoria, stepped out of their bedroom suite.
She liked to sleep in the same clothes she intended to work out in the next morning.
I love how Brooke lets Jeremy sleep in her room, Glossner said.
Itll be helpful when more siblings arrive.
His wife said, You better not expect too many more kids.
Ill be too old before you have the volleyball team you want.
He chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
Weve got plenty of time.
Want to come out on the balcony with me?
Victoria shook her head.
I have to give my sister a call, then Im down for the count.
As she turned to walk past him, she gave him a swat on the butt.
Not bad for a guy who doesnt have time to work out.
The air was cool but not uncomfortable.
No snow so far this year, but that was always iffy before Thanksgiving.
The wind was from the east, so he didnt catch that salty smell that came o!
He held a snifter of brandy in his left hand.
Hed given up smoking cigars in the evening when Brooke told him they smelled gross.
He had to admit he felt better for it.
He could see the three closest buildings around a bend in Riverside Drive.
Something caught his attention.
A movement on one of the lower balconies.
Then a boat on the river distracted him.
He took a sip of the Remy Martin Cognac and gazed back out at the river.
Chapter 2
I LAY IN BEDappreciating the dark bedroom.
The apartment was quiet.
With ten kids, that was rare.
My wife, Mary Catherine, had been pushing both of us toward a healthier lifestyle.
That included a couple of minutes of focused breathing and meditation every morning.
This was my time to breathe and meditate.
I could hear Mary Catherines light snore.
Not that I could ever tell her that.
She had the belief that she never snored.
As Trent once said to her, You claim you dont burp.
But Ive seen you burp a couple of times.
According to my debate class, that would negate your entire premise.
Besides, everyone burps.
It also put Trent on notice that Mary Catherine really didnt care for him pointing out her personal habits.
I was mature and experienced enough to know never to make a similar comment.
Maybe that was the secret to our very happy marriage.
That or the fact that wed been married less than two months.
Then my cell phone rang.
There was only one thing hed be calling about this early.
Sorry for the early call, Mike.
Somehow his voice didnt sound quite as gravelly as it did during the day.
Harry said, This may shock you, but Im calling because of a homicide.
I thought you might want me to meet for you breakfast or maybe go for a walk.
Where am I heading before breakfast?
Harry gave me the address.
I said, Wait.
Its close to your apartment, Harry said.
You could probably walk there.
We got a problem, though.
Theres already media on the scene.
That does make things trickier.
I cant believe too many reporters are at the scene of a homicide.
Even if it is probably some rich guy based on the address.
I stopped and thought about it for a moment.
Harry said in a flat tone, Its another victim of the sniper.
Even by her standards, though, this was a little excessive.
I gave her a kiss on the top of her head and headed for the door.
Just as I was passing through the door, Jane called out, Be careful, Dad.
It put a smile on my face.
But the entire trip gave me a little time to think.
The media had been playing up the story of two people shot from long range almost a month apart.
I think it was theBrooklyn Democratthat came up with a catchy name: the Longshot Killer.
It was easier to appreciate a good nickname for a killer before you met the victims family.
For now, I respected someones poetic license.
This was the only victim in Manhattan.
The first, Marie Ballard, had been a single grandmother in Queens.
The next one was Thomas Bannon, a fireman who lived on Staten Island.
I was already racking my brain, trying to find a pattern to the killings.
Every homicide detective tends to note homicides with similar details.
You never know when it might reveal a serial killer.
I wasnt even sure if I was up for another major investigation after my past few months.
I pulled up next to a parked patrol car.
I recognized the patrol o"cer but couldnt think of his name as he waved to me.
After a dozen steps, I stopped for a moment.
I sucked in a deep breath like a free diver attempting a hundred- foot dive.
Then I listened to the sounds of the city just waking up.
I never know how frantic my life might become as soon as I dive into a homicide investigation.
I like to savor my last moments of relative calm.
I noticed half a dozen reporters and three cameramen hovering near the entrance to the building.
A young female patrol officer stood by the door, blocking the media people.
One of the reporters stepped right up to the officer, trying to intimidate her.
He said in a loud voice, I live in the building.
I demand you let me in.
The young cop let a smile slide across her face.
She said, Im sure you do.
But I expect its more likely you live in a studio somewhere in Queens.
Im just basing that on what reporters at your shitty station are paid.
I let out a laugh.
Before I got any closer, I heard someone call my name.
It was Lois Frang from theBrooklyn Democrat.
She had a decent reputation among the cops for honest reporting and being a straight shooter.
She also seemed to love working for the small Brooklyn newspaper.
Even if the little paper had more ads than articles.
Lois said, Must be big if they brought you in on this, Detective Bennett.
Cmon, Lois, no ones bringing in anyone.
Its a homicide in Upper Manhattan.
If youll recall, my assignment is to the Manhattan North Homicide unit.
Id get called no matter the circumstances.
Can you give me any insights?
Lois had pulled a small pad from her purse, which looked more like a du!el bag.
The best insight I can give you is that cannabis stocks might be a good investment.
Anything about this homicide?
Technically, we dont know its a homicide yet.
Until I get up there and look around its still a death investigation.
Cut the shit, Bennett.
We all know he was shot at long range.
Why do you think everyones out here at this ungodly hour?
We want to pick up details about the latest victim of the Longshot Killer.
Did you come up with that name, Lois?
She beamed for a moment.
Why, yes, I did.
Descriptive without being too campy.
You could give lessons to theDaily Newsor thePostabout variety and imagination when naming a killer.
It would be an even better story if you could give me a few details.
Dont know what to tell you, Lois.
We heard the victim was well- known.
I honestly didnt know anything yet except the victims name: Adam Glossner.
Chapter 4
THE APARTMENT WASon the third floor, so I took the stairs.
Cops, medical examiner workers, and tenants all milled around the open door to an apartment.
The sergeant looked up and said, About time someone from Homicide showed up.
I smiled at Sergeant Leslie Asher and said, We show up as soon as were called.
She smiled and said, I already sent the imbecile who didnt call you home.
What we got isnt pretty.
Talk to me, Leslie.
The victim is forty- one-year-old Adam Glossner.
Some kind of hedge- fund manager.
His wife found the body about two hours ago, when she realized he wasnt in bed.
She said hed been headed out to the balcony when she went to bed around nine.
Its a single bullet hole visible on the right side of his head.
Looks like he sort of bounced o!
the French door frame and fell on the floor.
The two kids are with the wife in one of the neighbors apartments.
There, youre up to date.
The body was still on the floor where it had been found.
Someone from the medical examiners office was waiting outside to take Mr. Glossner.
I paused and said a quick prayer for Adam Glossners soul.
My grandfather always tells me how important it is to take every life seriously.
By extension we must take every death seriously.
This isnt a ritual I treat lightly.
But I wish I didnt have to do it so often.
I felt a pang of sorrow for the victims children.
Ive seen too many kids grow up without parents due to homicides.
A murder can have ripples in a family for generations.
The dark blood clashed with the white tile.
I could see exactly what Sergeant Asher had been talking about.
It was clear Glossner had been standing on the balcony when the bullet struck him.
I could picture him spiraling through the door and onto the pristine tile.
