by Sandra Lowen

Created on: November 15, 2009

MYSTERY SHOOTING

The long black car tore out toward the underpass, bearing its bloodied burden in the back seat. People were screaming and pointing; The shots came from over there! No, from over there! Figueroa and I revolved in whatever direction their fingers indicated, but we didn't catch sight of anybody running. How in the world could something like this happen, downtown, in the middle of the day, with all of these people around, and nobody get a look at who did it?

In the end, Figueroa said, you'll find that nobody knows anything worth knowing, and we'll be lucky if we ever find the guy, or the guys, or whoever. Meanwhile, what's happening with the victims?

Don't know, I said. They haven't turned up at the hospital yet.

Was anybody actually hurt? Figueroa asked. I mean, the guy couldn't have had time to get a good shot off.

No idea, I replied. They were going pretty slow when they turned the corner. One woman said there was blood all over the place, but she was pretty far away, and couldn't guarantee what she saw.

The Boss showed up, just after the nick of time, as usual. He was puffing on a stogie, mopping his brow with a big red bandanna and using his other hand to fan himself with his cream-colored Stetson. Even for a big man, he sweated more than most horses, and he was always in need of a shot of something under his pits. Not a comfortable guy to stand next to, by any means, but one of the best investigators around.

What've you got? he asked. I glanced at Figueroa. We had nothing.

A bunch of contradictory witnesses, I said. Somebody said the shooter was on foot. Somebody said he was in a car, or in one of these buildings. He ran north across the plaza, or south along the avenue, or maybe Santa Claus stopped by with his sleigh and swooped him up.

The Boss scowled. He didn't seem to appreciate the joke.

Find something, he said.

A woman sat on the curbstone, screaming and pounding her head with her hands. For a moment I thought she was another victim, somebody we had overlooked. A man was trying to put his arms around her, but she kept shoving him away; shoving and screaming. I got as close as I thought was safe and called out to the man.

She hurt? I asked. The man shook his head.

She gets this way, he said. She'll be all right, if I can get her home.

The Boss' radio crackled. Sounds like they're at the hospital, he said. We probably ought to get over there. There's plenty of our people here to take care of this.

He insisted on driving

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