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“I remember him missing a week at the beginning of the month. I think his father believes that by keeping him on a routine and at a strict school it will keep him out of trouble. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen that philosophy fail.”
I was surprised when Michelle gave me a quick hug before she headed out the door and up to her job in Bronxville.
Chapter85
MY FIRST STOPafter speaking with Michelle Finnegan was the Bronxville Police Department. The building might not have been as imposing as One Police Plaza, but it was convenient for the entire Village of Bronxville and therefore practical.
The reception area was about how I imagined it: quiet, clean, and empty. A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair sat behind the glass partition. As I stepped forward, he looked up and said, “May I help you?”
I flashed my badge and held open the ID so he could read it through the glass. At the same time, I said, “I was hoping I might talk to the detective who handles your intelligence files.”
The man laughed out loud. He sounded a little like a duck that someone had stepped on. Then he looked at me through the glass and said, “We can’t all be the NYPD or FBI. We don’t have an Intel unit. We have a detective sergeant and a detective. Between them, they try to keep track of everything.”
“Then can I speak to either of them?”
The man behind the glass smiled and said, “You already are. I’m Ed Horvath. I’m the detective. Our receptionist is also our evidence tech, and I’m just covering the desk for her for a few minutes.” He buzzed the door next to the reception area, and I stepped through. A moment later a tall Black woman marched into the back of reception and said, “Thanks, Ed.”
Detective Ed Horvath gave me a quick tour of the tiny station as we walked back to his cubicle. There were files and papers stacked on every possible surface. The way Horvath collapsed onto his chair told me he was a little overwhelmed.
Horvath sighed and said, “I should’ve been a gastroenterologist like my brother. Now he lives in Florida and can play golf year-round. I guess we both deal with our share of assholes. Still, Florida sounds nice.”
“Then who would keep the citizens of Bronxville safe?” I gave him a smile to let him know I was joking. He didn’t seem to care.
Horvath looked at me and said, “Every time a detective comes up from the city it means more work for me. Let’s cut through all the BS and you tell me what new assignment is going to spring from this visit.”
Police work employs all kinds of people. Smart, not so smart. Tough and gentle people. Ambitious people and people who regret getting into the profession in the first place. Every indication was that Ed Horvath had some regrets. But I couldn’t let that affect my case.
I handed him my list of four names and asked if he’d ever heard of any of them or if any were suspects in cases they were working.
I watched his bloodshot brown eyes scan the page. Then he jerked his head up and said, “Isn’t Perry Martin the football coach over at the Wolfson Academy?”
“Yeah, he is. Do you know him?”
Horvath shrugged. “I don’t think I ever met him. He’s got that team playing at a high level. Feels like he’s in the local paper every week in the fall. But we certainly don’t have any cases involving him. Is he a suspect in whatever you’re investigating?”
“You know how in big cases everyone is a suspect. I’m just trying to gather as much information as I can about any name that pops up.”
His eyes drifted back to the list of names. After another few seconds he said, “I know this one, William Tassick. I haven’t heard the name in years.”
“How do you know him?”
“We had a joint narcotics task force with the county and the smaller towns in the area. He was like the biggest dealer we all knew. None of us ever made a case on him. But the DEA snagged him for bringing a couple of kilos a week into Newark. I heard he supplied all of northern Jersey. I thought he was still in prison.”
I said, “Been out a long time. He lives north of here in Mount Vernon.”
“That surprises me. He was a big hitter with big tastes. I figured him for Miami or LA.”
“You know if he ever committed any serious violence? Was he suspected of any homicides?”
“I heard the Newark PD thought he was good for a double murder of some local dealers down there. Each dealer was shot in the face once. It eliminated anyone in competition with Tassick.”
“So it was all business?”
“I guess you could look at it that way. Why would that matter? A homicide is a homicide.”
I gave him a quick outline of my case.
Then Horvath gave me an insight I hadn’t even considered. He said, “Maybe he missed the thrill. Maybe this is how he gets his kicks now. The only way he can cope.”
