hell he was.
‘I saw someone hit the alarm,’ I said above the din. People gathered around me. ‘He was in his early twenties, wearing a blue Mets cap. A big guy.’
An old man turned to his neighbour. ‘That sounds like it could be Jesse. Carol’s grandson.’
‘Carol?’ said the neighbour. ‘She’s in thirty. Hey, where’s Carol? Anyone seen Carol?’
I felt a little guilty for falsely accusing Mets of setting off the alarm – would he get into trouble for it? – but reminded myself what a douchebag he had been at the pool. Then someone came down the stairs with a lady of around seventy. At the same time, the super appeared and turned off the alarm, to sighs of relief all round.
‘What’s this about my grandson?’ Carol barked.
‘This guy said he saw him hit the fire alarm,’ said the old man who had first identified Mets.
Carol narrowed her eyes at me. ‘How do you know it was my Jesse?’
‘Do you have a photo of him?’ I asked.
She did. She produced a top-of-the-range iPhone and showed me a picture of her and her grandson together, smiling at the camera. It was him.
‘He’s a good boy,’ she said. ‘He gave me this phone. Let me call him now. Get this straightened out.’
The other residents of the building drifted back to their apartments while Carol searched for Jesse in her contacts. I looked over her shoulder. There was his address.
I left her waiting for him to answer and made a quick exit.
Jesse lived in a tall, drab building on a quiet street in Greenpoint, about fifteen minutes away.
I pressed the intercom and, after a few seconds, a voice said, ‘Yeah?’
‘Jesse? My name’s Adam. I need to talk to you.’
‘You’re the Brit. From the pool.’ My accent was that strong? ‘It was you, at my nana’s place?’ He strained to project aggression, but there was fear in his voice he failed to mask, I was sure of it. ‘Where’s your bitch at? She with you?’
His choice of words made me flinch. ‘I’m not really her boyfriend. We just made that up to stop you hassling her.’
‘Yeah, well, we stopped.’
‘I need to ask you some questions,’ I said quickly, before he could click off. ‘The woman I was with at the pool, Eden, I think she’s done something to hurt my actual girlfriend. Will you please let me in? Or come out and talk to me? I promise I don’t mean you any harm. Eden’s not my friend. Not anymore.’
I could almost hear his brain ticking over, trying to figure out if this was a trick.
‘Come up,’ he said, and he pressed the buzzer to let me in.
He was waiting in the doorway of his apartment. As I came towards him, he peered over my shoulder to check there was no one with me, then beckoned me in and shut and bolted the door behind me. He wasn’t wearing his baseball cap today. But as he turned towards me I saw he was holding a small handgun.
I sucked in a breath. Two days ago, someone had tried to run me down. Yesterday, I had seen my first dead body. Nobody had ever pointed a gun at me before, and my first thought was that I should have accepted Wanda’s offer. But, perhaps because of everything that had happened to me during the past few days, I wasn’t as scared as I would’ve thought I’d be. Perhaps it was because I’d heard fear in his voice. Had seen it when he ran away from me. And maybe that was foolish of me. Scared people are more prone to making rash decisions.
‘Put your arms in the air,’ he said.
I obliged, and he came over and patted me down with his free hand. Apparently satisfied, he told me to sit down. Again, I did as he asked.
He noticed me glance around the neat apartment and said, ‘My mom’s at work.’ There were fresh flowers in vases, shelves full of romance novels, and framed photos of a grinning, gap-toothed little boy on the wall. Jesse went over to the window and peered down at the street. He was as jittery as anyone I’d ever seen.
‘Why don’t you put the gun down, Jesse?’ I said in the calmest voice I could muster.
‘Uh-uh.’
‘We can’t talk while you’ve got that thing pointed at me.’
Still, he hesitated.
‘Come on, Jesse. I don’t have a weapon. You’re bigger than me. What am I going to do? Please, put the gun down.’
With agonising slowness, he obliged.