“He’s just fine,” Letty said, pursing her lips and tugging the blue gloves off. “Just fine.”
CHAPTER 61
1:03 a.m.
Letty’s witness, Nate Porter, was sturdy looking and wiry, with a thin layer of silver hair and big hands. The hands looked especially large given that he was thin and tall. He had a deep and lovely voice but was soft spoken, as if he knew the voice had power and needed to be reined in. She met him downstairs from the lobby in what was probably the super’s office, although it was dust laden and stuffy and didn’t look much used. Looking a little spaced out, he sat on a sweat-stained swivel chair with a bottle of water. Nearby were two patrol officers, one male and one female.
Letty had the feeling that Porter was a gay man, though not because he seemed effeminate or carried himself in any particular way. There was just something in how he settled into a chair or moved his hands and arms to stretch or adjust his posture. Maybe it was the way his eyes passed over the scene, the responders, or Letty herself. She could be wrong, and it didn’t matter anyway; it was intuition, nothing more. But after twenty years on the job, intuition had become second nature. It was impossible to silence and sometimes strangely valuable. Other times, lifesaving.
“How are you, Mr. Porter?” she asked, pulling up a cracked plastic chair and sitting down. Letty had bright, almond-shaped eyes; a smooth, broad nose; and generous lips. Her hair was bobbed, with short bangs over her forehead. Her stylist called them “fringe.”
“I think I’m okay,” he said, offering a weak smile.
“I’m sorry about how long this all takes. Soon, we’ll move to the precinct. I’ll take you over there.”
“Thank you.”
“I understand that you don’t believe you know the man who attacked you. Sometimes, things become clearer, though, after time passes. Does anything ring a bell?”
“I can’t even picture him,” Nate said, shaking his head and sighing. “It all happened so fast. He looked to me to be white. Younger than me. A big guy. Honestly, that’s all I know.”
“And the homeless man? You encountered him first?”
“I did.” He gave her a play-by-play of what he had seen, heard, and done from the time he walked in until the time he saw the fat guy push his way into the shaft.
“So the homeless man insisted he lived here,” she said, taking notes. “And he was pretty aggressive?”
“He was. I really wasn’t all that angry; I just had to get him out of here. This sort of thing happens quite a bit—the introduction of homeless or intoxicated people by the landlord. There are children and old people in the building.” With that, he explained the conflict.
Letty glanced around the dilapidated, neglected super’s office and thought about how the lobby had looked, not to mention the death-trap elevator bank. She had little reason to doubt Porter. They were a few minutes into that backstory when a landlord “representative,” escorted by another patrol officer, appeared in the doorway.
“Detective Clark?” the officer asked. He was young, white, and fresh faced.
“Yes?”
“This is, uh, Mr. Cana. He works for the landlord.”
“It’s pronounced konna,” he said, flashing a disgusted look at the cop. “Yeah, I work for the landlord. This is our building, so I got a right to be here. What did this guy do, anyway?” He nodded toward Nate, who stared back at him and said nothing. Cana was a swarthy, paunchy man with thick, black eyebrows and a couple of days’ growth of beard. His expression, the upper lip slightly curled, was that of a man smelling something unpleasant.
“Some terrible things happened here tonight, Mr. Cana,” she said, standing up. “We have a lot of work to do, and it’s going to be a long night. I’ll speak with you when I can.” She moved her eyes to the young officer. “Take him upstairs, please.”
“I’m responsible for this building. I’m not going anywhere,” Cana said, flashing a threatening look at the cop. He stood back to give command of the scene to Letty.
“What’s back there?” she asked Cana, gesturing with her thumb to his left.
“Trash room. Boiler.”
“Come with me.”
When they had gotten to the boiler room, which reeked of garbage and mildew, Letty crossed her arms and stared at him. “Do not interrupt my investigation or you’ll end up in jail tonight.”
Cana’s face scrunched up in frustration. “Lady, it’s my building. And that guy Porter is a menace. Do you know anything about him?”