Ambush

Chapter 2

Everyone out in the neighborhood made us for cops as soon as we started walking down the sidewalk. It wasn’t as if we were working undercover, but a young black guy in a sharp suit and an older white guy wearing a sport coat to cover his gun — we could’ve been in uniform and not been any more obvious.

Our suspect had shot a customer who stiffed him on a bag of heroin in front of a grocery store in Midtown with plenty of witnesses. A poor business plan all around.

The tip said the suspect was in apartment 416. I didn’t trust the elevator to make it up all four floors without some sort of issue, so despite Antrole’s objections, we took the stairs. It gave me a minute to talk to my headstrong partner.

I said, “Nothing fancy. We knock and hope he answers. Maybe we try the door to see if it’s locked. Otherwise we come up with another plan that may or may not involve the SWAT team. Got it?”

Antrole nodded.

At each landing, I took a moment to get a feel for the surroundings. Antrole probably thought I needed to catch my breath, but this climb was nothing compared to the basketball games I played with my kids. I took it slow because every apartment building has its own aura. Sometimes it’s because of the tenants, and sometimes it’s because of the area. Either could kill you if you weren’t careful.

On the fourth landing, I said, “You ready for this? It doesn’t matter what happens — you’ve done a good job getting us this far. Now we have to use our heads.”

“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m some kid out of the academy. I have four years’ patrol experience and two years in the detective bureau. I’m only new to Homicide. Homicide detectives are not the only ones who make arrests.”

“I don’t have to talk to you like that, but I enjoy it. That’s one of the advantages of being senior.”

I appreciated the smile that spread across Antrole’s face. Feeling out a new partner is always an ongoing process, but this guy was all right.

He said, “This suspect might be the key to some of the unsolved homicides connected to the heroin dealers up this way.”

“Could be.” Antrole was looking at the big picture — rare with new homicide detectives. He showed a ton of promise.

The fourth-floor hallway was empty. That was always good. I paused at the stairwell and just listened to the sounds of the apartment building for almost a full minute. Nothing unusual. Latin music from one apartment. Someone talking loudly in another.

As we carefully made our way down the hallway, I heard a TV playing a daytime talk show in another apartment.

The cheap carpet was uneven over a wooden floor that broadcast sound. A wide set of windows at the end of the hallway took the edge off the gloomy vibe of the building.

Then we found ourselves in front of apartment 416. Antrole slipped to the other side of the door and drew his Glock service weapon. I pulled my pistol, too, though I thought it was a little premature.

We listened at the door, and I put my hand against it to see if I could feel any vibration. Unexpectedly, it pushed open a few inches.

I looked to Antrole, who angled his head to see into the apartment.

That was odd. Drug dealers in this neighborhood rarely left their doors unbolted, let alone open. It was nice to catch a break once in a while.

From my angle, I could see the suspect we were looking for sitting on a couch under a wide, dirty window. His head leaned back on the rear of the couch. He wasn’t moving. I motioned to Antrole that I saw someone inside.

The young detective nodded and turned before I could tell him to wait.

A shadow passed the open door, and I heard someone inside. It was a single word. Some kind of command. I wasn’t even sure what language it was. But the subsequent gunfire was unmistakable.

The door appeared to explode, and Antrole jumped to the other side of the doorway, his gun up.

I crouched quickly and fired a couple of rounds into the apartment. I didn’t see a target — it was just to keep the shooters behind cover. We had to move and move quickly.

The gunfire didn’t slow down.

This was an ambush.