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The coach stepped out from behind the utility shed that also held the door to the roof. Terri was on one side of him, holding her hands up like she was trying to calm him down.
I jumped forward and grabbed the fallen detective by the collar of his shirt and pulled him away from the coach. He was able to scramble to his feet once I’d dragged him about five yards.
The first thing the detective did was make sure the gun was still in the small of his back, then he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it still looked good. I guess if I was his age, I might do the same thing.
Now I focused on Perry Martin. He was backing away from both Terri and meto the far side of the roof. I knew it faced the street. There was also no way to reach the fire escape from that side.
I said in an even voice, “Let’s talk about this. No one needs to get hurt.” I noticed a subtle change in the coach’s expression. Now he looked nervous and scared. There didn’t seem to be any trace of anger left in him.
He yelled, “Don’t come any closer.”
Terri and I froze in place. We knew that tone—frustration edged with panic.
The coach kept backing away slowly until he bumped into the two-foot ledge that enclosed the entire roof of the hotel. Then he carefully swung a leg up onto the ledge and pushed himself to stand on it. He glanced over the side and then quickly looked back to make sure we weren’t trying to sneak up on him.
I’d seen too many suicides in my career. I wasn’t interested in seeing another. I held up my hands and said, “Don’t do anything stupid, Coach.” I gave Terri a quick look and she knew to retreat. We didn’t want to overwhelm someone who was so distraught.
Terri eased back toward the door to the stairwell next to the young detective.
We were in an absolute standoff. I could hear sirens below, but right now it was just a suicidal Perry Martin and me. On a rooftop.Shit.
Chapter106
MY HEART SKIPPEDa beat when I saw Perry Martin wave his arms to keep his balance on the ledge. It wasn’t that narrow, but there was some wind up here, and I knew how disconcerting looking over the edge of a high building could be.
I worked hard to keep my tone pleasant and sympathetic. “C’mon, Coach, step down off the ledge and we can talk.”
Martin looked at me and said, “What’s left to talk about?I know why you broke into my room. I can figure out that that girl was working with you guys.”
Just as I was starting to feel like Martin was going to step away from the edge, I heard the door to the stairwell open and bang against the wall. Then I heard a female voice scream, “Jump! Go ahead and do us a favor. Jump! You’re a murderer.”
I took a quick glance over my shoulder and saw that Allie Pritz had followed us up the stairs. She looked angry. Furious.
Allie looked at me and shouted, “Let him jump.” She had a hard edge to her voice.
Now Terri stood next to Allie with an arm around her shoulders. She pulled Allie over next to the young detective so they could both keep an eye on her.
I turned to look back at Perry Martin. Allie’s outburst had gotten to him. He looked stricken. His voice cracked as he shouted to Allie, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry everything got so out of hand. I never intended to hurt anyone.” He let out a sob but stayed on top of the ledge.
I was now about ten feet from him. There was no way I’d be able to hold on if I grabbed him and he wanted to jump. Either he’d break out of my grip or we’d both go over the side.
Martin shook his head and said in a lower voice, “I know I fucked up. I ruined everything. My family, my career, everything’s gone. I even had to steal from the school just to pay for the girls. Once I met that first girl, it was like some kind of primal urge. Or an addiction. I don’t know what you’d call it. I had no control over it. And she agreed to have sex with me, but I had to pay her an extra six hundred dollars. I wish I could’ve stopped right there.”
I had to be practical in the situation. If Martin committed suicide, we might not know how many women he killed. I didn’t want to give him more incentive to jump, but it was a question I needed answered. I said, “Coach, how many girls did you kill?”
He stared at me like I’d slapped him across the face. A tear did run down his cheek. He started shaking his head like some internal dialogue tormented him. He looked over at me, wiped his nose with his bare forearm, and started to speak slowly.
Martin said, “The first one, Cheryl, was an accident. That was last year. She said no, but I wasn’t sure if it was an act. When she pulled away from me, I grabbed her and shook her. Maybe too hard. When I saw she was hurt and moaning about her neck, I panicked. I twisted her head to finish it. Then I dumped her in a garbage truck parked behind the building we were at in Bronxville. Never heard or saw anything about her.”
I thought back to my encounter with Cheryl Savage’s father. The father determined not to lose another child. At least he’d have some closure.
Martin looked at me. He wanted to talk. I let him.
He said, “Everything seemed fine until a few months ago. That’s when I hired Emma. What a sweet singing voice that one had. We went to a motel in Bronxville. She was amazing. She said she didn’t mind it a little rough. Then, the next thing I realized, I had my hand around her throat and she was no longer breathing.
“The third girl, Suzanne, tried to blackmail me. She said she’d tell my wife. I’d already used all the money I had or could steal. I flipped out.”
Martin mumbled something else, but it wasn’t clear. This guy was at the end of his rope.
