Chapter 80

Chapter 80—Jack escapes death car

12:06, a.m., Friday, December 30 

Jack grabbed the steering wheel with his right hand, and used his left to prop up Kurt’s dead body as a shield to block a barrage of rounds being fired in rapid succession from a vehicle that had pulled alongside at a traffic light. He could feel the shock wave of each bullet at it struck Kurt’s torso. In most cases the 9mm slugs bounced off of the dead man’s vest. But some missed the protection, and continued on into flesh.
 It was those rounds that posed the greatest threat to Jack. A bullet striking a shoulder bone could easily bounce off and lodge in his own body. Almost immediately Jack jammed the accelerator to the floor with his left foot, jetting through the intersection. Fortunately, the attack occurred just as the cross traffic light turned green. So when Jack bolted ahead, all the other vehicles were able to stop before striking his car.
As soon as the shooting stopped, Jack sat up and checked out where he was going. It was a good thing he did, because he found his car right on the rear bumper of traffic stopped at the next traffic signal.
Jack would not have been able to hit the brake, even had he wished to, because Kurt’s right foot was in the way. Instead he steered to the left, and drove in the on-coming traffic until he reached the light. He then turned left, going the wrong way down a one-way street. Finding no room on the street, he steered his car onto the sidewalk and bounced off a brick building.
 “I’m outta here,” he yelled, with only himself to hear. He turned the wheel into the parked vehicles to stop.
Reaching into Kurt’s holster, he removed a Glock 10mm. He had remembered that gun from when he brushed up against Kurt in the Penn Station coffee shop. “Didn’t know this was going to come in so handy,” Jack thought as he checked the semi-auto to make sure it had a full clip. He yanked back on the action, discharging a round. He had to make sure there was a live round in the magazine. Sometimes private detectives, and most private citizens, do not keep a live round in the magazine for safety reasons.
As always, Jack remained calm. He removed his jacket and wiped off all the blood he could with the lining. He then looked in the rear seat, and found a half-empty plastic bottle of water. He poured some of it in his hands, and washed his face and hands, again wiping it off using the jacket lining.
Looking around, Jack caught a glimpse of a subway entrance. A crowd was beginning to gather. “We need an ambulance here,” Jack announced. “I think my friend had a stroke. Somebody call 911.”
He then jumped out of the car and hurried down into the subway tunnel. However, before he reached the bottom of the steps, he turned around and headed back up. He knew that there would be cameras in the tunnel.
When he got to the surface, he did not look in the direction of the smoking car. Instead, he hurried back across the street, and headed to the point from where the shots were originally fired. He knew that the gun used to kill Kurt was a 9mm semi-auto. He also knew that spent rounds would be all over the street.
When he reached that intersection, he walked out into the stopped traffic, and found three casings. One had been run over, but two appeared to be intact. If this fellow, Kurt, was actually working for Roger, Jack knew that Roger would appreciate the evidence. Poking a pen into the hollow end, he picked up the two undamaged casings, and wrapped them in a handkerchief. Picked up the third casing with his bare hand, and slipped it into his pants pocket.
He then stood up and continued on across the street.
Roger would be able to tell a great deal about the shooter from the two casings. For one thing, if the shooter did not wear gloves when loading the clip, he would leave his fingerprints on the round. It is possible that the prints were in the system, so Roger would be able to determine who shot Kurt.
Even if there were no prints, every firearm, especially semiautomatics, leave distinct markings on the round as it ejects it from the magazine. Eventually Roger might still be able to make a positive identification of the shooter.
This type of information is especially valuable in light of the fact that Roger might never recover any of the bullets that were fired. The one that killed Kurt probably ended up in the gutter, because after striking Kurt in the side of the head, it passed through, and whizzed past Jack’s candy bar, and out of the open window.
The other bullets, the ones lodged in Kurt’s protective vest, or in his body, would be held by the NYPD, and might never be accessible to Roger.
That’s why Jack made sure that his friend would have a good opportunity to identify the shooter.
Just as Jack reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, a large, dark Ford Expedition pulled up beside him as he walked.
A passenger in the rear seat of the SUV opened the back door, and said, “Jack, get in.”
“Hell,” Jack thought, “where have I heard that before?”
Initially Jack was hesitant about getting in. But when he got a look at the driver through the open door, he smiled. “Good to see you again,” Jack said as he sat down, “you might want to start ducking right now, ‘cuz all my friends are getting shot tonight.”