Infamy by Robert K. Tanenbaum

figure out what was going down whenthis white dude comes running toward us. He had the nine in his hand. I got in his way and said, ‘Whoa, dude, wassup?’ ”
    â€œDid he say anything?”
    â€œYeah, real spooky-like, the dude says, ‘Just chill if you don’t want to die.’ I tell you what, homes, I was looking in the eyes of a stone-cold killer. Not my day to die, so I stepped aside and he ran past.”
    As the reporter continued to milk the interview, Karp put down the remote and placed a call. “Hi, Kenny? It’s Butch. Yeah . . . I heard and I’m on my way. I know you’re up to your eyeballs in alligators, but just letting you know, a reporter with WFN Channel 7 is interviewing someone named Freddy Ortega about forty yards from where you’re standing. Ortega claims the gunman approached him and made a statement. You might want to get to him before the story grows. I’ll see you in twenty.”
    Karp changed out of his sweats—he’d planned on challenging the twins to a game of hoops—and into his “work clothes” of gray slacks, a blue-and-white-striped button-down shirt, a paisley tie carefully selected by his spouse, and a navy blazer. His mentor Garrahy had always insisted that his ADAs look professional in public, and not only had it stuck with Karp, but he’d carried the rule over into his own tenure as DA.
    The memory of his own beginnings at the DAO caused Karpto consider his young ADA at the scene. When Karp had hired him, Kenny Katz was a little older than the typical law school graduate. He’d interrupted his education at Columbia Law School after 9/11 to enlist in the Army, then served in Afghanistan and Iraq, and received the Purple Heart for wounds he’d received and the Bronze Star for gallantry.
    Karp had liked the young man from the start and recognized that not only did he have a sharp legal mind, but he also was as steady as they came. He’d taken Katz under his wing, just as his mentors had with him, with the idea of grooming him for the Homicide Bureau, where he’d excelled.
    Although it was the luck of the draw as to which ADA had been on call for the shooting, Karp thought Katz’s experience might help with the military aspects. He wasn’t going to the scene because Katz couldn’t handle the initial interviews. It was obviously going to be a high-profile case with a frenzied media, and the burden of this prosecution was going to fall on the top man’s shoulder. Otherwise, the best man for the job was already on the ground and running with it.
    Karp left the fourth-floor loft and entered the private elevator that took him to the ground level. He glanced up at the security monitor above the door and saw that a dark sedan was already pulled up at the curb. A plainclothes police officer, Eddie Ewin,was standing by the back passenger door, ready to take him wherever he needed to go.
    â€œHello, Eddie. I take it you’ve heard about the shooting in Central Park,” Karp said.
    â€œGood afternoon, Mr. Karp,” Ewin responded, opening the door of the car. “Yeah, terrible. Heard it on the scanner and then Detective Fulton called and said you’d be needing me.”
    A short, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and eyes, Ewin shook his head. “I heard on the radio that some of the dead were vets. Served their time over there only to come home and have some nutcase do something like this. What’s the world coming to, Mr. Karp?”
    â€œGood question,” Karp said as he settled into the seat. “But I don’t have an answer.”
    Ewin got in the driver’s seat and started the car. “The park?” he said, looking in the rearview mirror.
    â€œYes, please. Anything new about the shooter’s whereabouts?”
    â€œI was just listening to the scanner when you came out. I heard someone matching the suspect was seen running on the