NYPD Red

Chapter 67



AFTER FORTY-FIVE MINUTES of weight training, twenty minutes on the rowing machine, and another forty-five on the treadmill, Spence Harrington was dripping with sweat. He peeled off his clothes and carefully studied every inch of his body in the mirror that filled one entire wall of his home gym.

He had a body mass index of twenty and was trying to drive it down to the teens. Not bad for a guy who could smell forty a few birthdays away. One of the pluses of giving up bad habits was being able to build a body that looked this good naked. He wasn’t sure who liked looking at it more—him or Kylie.

He padded to the bathroom, tossed his wet gym clothes in the hamper, took a ten-minute shower, toweled himself dry, and crawled into bed.

Spence had the fifteen-minute power nap down to a science, and he set the timer on his iPhone for sixteen minutes. He was asleep before the first sixty seconds had ticked off. A quarter of an hour later, he awoke to the familiar sound of Sonny and Cher singing “I Got You, Babe,” a ringtone homage to his favorite movie, Groundhog Day.

The thermostats throughout the three-bedroom apartment were set at sixty-four degrees, and as soon as he tossed the top sheet off, the cool air puffed playfully on his warm skin. He sank back down into the pillow and ran a hand along his belly until it settled between his legs. He cupped himself and inhaled deeply. He and Kylie hadn’t had sex since she started her new job. He closed his eyes, pictured her naked in bed next to him, and immediately felt himself grow hard.

Nothing like exercise, a hot shower, and a near-death experience to get a guy horny, he thought as he removed his hand and sat up on the edge of the bed. He picked up the phone and called his wife.

“How you doing?” she said.

“I’m showered, naked, and as randy as a billy goat on a Viagra binge,” he said. “How about you?”

“Fabulous. I just spent the last two hours with my masseuse. Oh, no wait, that was Internal Affairs debriefing me after the shooting to see if I’m suffering from post-traumatic stress, or if I’m still fit for duty.”

“And?”

“Bad news, Goat Boy. I’m on the job till we catch this bastard. How is Shelley holding up?”

“He’s as happy as Heloise on double coupon day. His doc gave him some pain meds, and he went back to the office and got a call from Electronic Arts. They’re one of the biggest video game companies on the planet, and after the shoot-out this morning, they suddenly got interested in us.”

“That was fast,” Kylie said.

“That’s the game biz. Anyway, they asked if they could send a couple of developers tonight to check out the pilot. And you know how Shelley’s brain works. He said yes, then immediately called a dozen other video game developers, and now Sony and Nintendo will be there too.”

“Spence, Benoit has explosives,” Kylie said. “There aren’t enough cops or dogs to go around, and a private party won’t be one of our priorities. Make sure Shelley hires some security.”

“I already told him that, but he’s not worried.”

“Somebody shot him,” Kylie said. “Doesn’t he think it could happen again?”

“No. He thinks the girl just wanted to shoot at a bunch of movie and TV people, and she figured she’d nail somebody famous at Ian’s memorial. But as far as Shelley is concerned, all he’s having tonight is a private meeting with a bunch of boring business guys. The real glitzy stuff with the loud music and the boldface names will be at Kiss and Fly, 230 Fifth, Tenjune—places like that. That’s where you should be looking for this nut job—hold on a sec, someone’s ringing up from downstairs.”

He pushed star zero to get the intercom. “Who is it?”

“Hey, Mr. Harrington. It’s Trevor from the Silvercup mailroom. I got a package for you—looks like script changes.”

“Bring it up, Trev. Seventh floor. Thanks.”

He clicked back.

“Who was that?” Kylie said.

“The escort service is here. I called them a few hours ago. Ordered up a hooker.”

“How did you know I wouldn’t be there?”

“I didn’t. In fact, I was hoping we could make it a three-way.”

“You’re terrible.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“Have fun with your hooker and your video games,” Kylie said.

“And you be careful chasing bad guys. I love you.”

“Love you too. Got to go.”

The doorbell rang, and Kylie hung up. Spence grabbed a pillow, put it in front of him, and hustled to the door.

“Hey, Trevor, I’m not dressed,” he said. “Can you just slide it under the door?”

“It’s too thick,” Trevor said, “but how about if I just drop it in front of the door and go.”

“Perfect.”

“No problem, sir. Have a nice night.”

Spence put an ear to the door and listened as the envelope hit the carpet. Trevor walked to the elevator. It was already parked at seven, so the doors opened immediately. They closed, and the elevator went down to the lobby.

Still holding the pillow in front of him, Spence stepped outside, bent down, and reached for the envelope.

The Chameleon, hugging the wall outside the door, pointed the stun baton at Spence’s right shoulder and squeezed the trigger. One million volts surged through Spence Harrington’s body and dropped him to the floor.

“Like I told you, Spence,” Gabriel said. “Script changes. Your part just got a lot bigger.”