right past them. The man who was choking the other was surprised to see me, but he did not let go of his victim. I kept running. And I was holding the gun and pointing it straight at him.
“ Then, as I got closer to Fifth Avenue, I felt him following me. I heard his footfalls as he chased me. I looked around and there he was, gaining on me. I put on a burst of speed and escaped through the park exit, dashed across the sidewalk and ran out into the street, around my car. Used the remote to unlock the doors and jumped inside. I pulled away from the curb so fast I skidded. I didn’t even bother to look to see if there were cars coming. I just raced down Fifth, not even stopping for the red light.
“ But when I was pulling away from the curb, I caught sight of him in my rear view mirror and I knew he was getting my license plate number.”
“ Then what happened?” I asked, now on the edge of my chair like Melanie. “Did you go to the police?”
“ Yes, I went straight to the police. I was bruised and scraped. My head was throbbing where I’d been pistol whipped, and my left eye was swollen almost shut. But I drove straight to the Seventeenth Precinct which is in my neighborhood, on Fifty-First Street near Third Avenue.
“ I double parked and ran inside. The desk sergeant took one look at me and led me straight to the back to the detectives. They took a brief statement, then sent for a doctor who cleaned up my scrapes and gave me a cold pack for my forehead.
“ After the doctor left, I told the detectives every detail of what had happened. Oh, and of course I turned the gun over to them. I thought they might be able to trace it to my attacker.
“ Right away they sent out a team of detectives and uniformed officers to the park. One of the detectives stayed with me, and gave me the mug book to go through. But I didn’t recognize anyone.”
“ So when they found the strangle victim, was he still alive?” I asked.
Scarlett shook her head negatively and gave me an odd look. “They did not find him. When they returned, they said it had been a wild-goose chase. There was no victim on the footpath. They said they’d comb the park in the morning when it was daylight. But I could tell they didn’t believe me. They did not find my abductor either. All three men had disappeared. Without a trace.”
12
“ What about the gun? That was proof,” Melanie said.
Scarlett responded, “At that point I was getting the impression they thought I was lying. That the gun was mine. They started questioning me in an aggressive way. I yelled at them, ‘Do you think I hit myself on the head?’”
“ How strange,” I said.
“ They must have done a background check on me because they seemed to know a lot about me. One of the detectives said he’d taken his family to the Christmas show at the music hall so he’d probably seen me dance. They were not disrespectful. Just not believing.
“ Hearing that I’d been coming home from a cast party, one even asked if there had been drugs at the party.”
“ No!” I said.
“ I told them firmly that I did not do drugs. Drugs and dancing don’t mix. Plus, I’ve never even been tempted. I’ve seen drugs destroy too many promising careers.”
“ So what happened next?” Melanie asked.
“ I told them that the killer may have gotten my license plate number. That he might be able to trace it and find me. That I was in jeopardy. The older detective, the one who had seen me dance, said that since there wasn’t any crime, there was nothing they could do. He suggested I stay with a friend.”
“ Did you?” I asked.
“ Not that night. I drove home. It was almost four in the morning. I parked the car in the underground garage. You need a card to get into the garage so I thought I’d be OK for the rest of the night . . . morning. I turned on the alarm system, had a long soak in the tub, then slept until noon.
“ I didn’t have a performance the next
“ Then, as I got closer to Fifth Avenue, I felt him following me. I heard his footfalls as he chased me. I looked around and there he was, gaining on me. I put on a burst of speed and escaped through the park exit, dashed across the sidewalk and ran out into the street, around my car. Used the remote to unlock the doors and jumped inside. I pulled away from the curb so fast I skidded. I didn’t even bother to look to see if there were cars coming. I just raced down Fifth, not even stopping for the red light.
“ But when I was pulling away from the curb, I caught sight of him in my rear view mirror and I knew he was getting my license plate number.”
“ Then what happened?” I asked, now on the edge of my chair like Melanie. “Did you go to the police?”
“ Yes, I went straight to the police. I was bruised and scraped. My head was throbbing where I’d been pistol whipped, and my left eye was swollen almost shut. But I drove straight to the Seventeenth Precinct which is in my neighborhood, on Fifty-First Street near Third Avenue.
“ I double parked and ran inside. The desk sergeant took one look at me and led me straight to the back to the detectives. They took a brief statement, then sent for a doctor who cleaned up my scrapes and gave me a cold pack for my forehead.
“ After the doctor left, I told the detectives every detail of what had happened. Oh, and of course I turned the gun over to them. I thought they might be able to trace it to my attacker.
“ Right away they sent out a team of detectives and uniformed officers to the park. One of the detectives stayed with me, and gave me the mug book to go through. But I didn’t recognize anyone.”
“ So when they found the strangle victim, was he still alive?” I asked.
Scarlett shook her head negatively and gave me an odd look. “They did not find him. When they returned, they said it had been a wild-goose chase. There was no victim on the footpath. They said they’d comb the park in the morning when it was daylight. But I could tell they didn’t believe me. They did not find my abductor either. All three men had disappeared. Without a trace.”
12
“ What about the gun? That was proof,” Melanie said.
Scarlett responded, “At that point I was getting the impression they thought I was lying. That the gun was mine. They started questioning me in an aggressive way. I yelled at them, ‘Do you think I hit myself on the head?’”
“ How strange,” I said.
“ They must have done a background check on me because they seemed to know a lot about me. One of the detectives said he’d taken his family to the Christmas show at the music hall so he’d probably seen me dance. They were not disrespectful. Just not believing.
“ Hearing that I’d been coming home from a cast party, one even asked if there had been drugs at the party.”
“ No!” I said.
“ I told them firmly that I did not do drugs. Drugs and dancing don’t mix. Plus, I’ve never even been tempted. I’ve seen drugs destroy too many promising careers.”
“ So what happened next?” Melanie asked.
“ I told them that the killer may have gotten my license plate number. That he might be able to trace it and find me. That I was in jeopardy. The older detective, the one who had seen me dance, said that since there wasn’t any crime, there was nothing they could do. He suggested I stay with a friend.”
“ Did you?” I asked.
“ Not that night. I drove home. It was almost four in the morning. I parked the car in the underground garage. You need a card to get into the garage so I thought I’d be OK for the rest of the night . . . morning. I turned on the alarm system, had a long soak in the tub, then slept until noon.
“ I didn’t have a performance the next
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