Vollner sent for Miss Forrest who looked at the man and claimed she did not know him. When she attempted to leave, the man grabbed ger by the arm, at which point Fairchild warned him to leave her alone, moving toward him and rasing his club. The man attacked Fairchild, kicking him repeatedl in the head and chest after he fell to the floor. Fairchild xx was later sent to Buena Vista Hospital. Four teeth xxxx had been kicked out of his mouth, and he had suffered three broken ribs. Vollner states he hd never before seen the man, and Miss Forrest states so, too.
Miss Forrest is the daughter of the deceased Anthony Forrest (DD Reports 201A-46-01 through 201A-46-31) first victim of the sniper killings two years xxxxx six months ago. Check of records show that Lewis Redfield was tried and convicted first degree murder, sentenced to death in the electric chair, executed at Castleview Penitentiary last March. There seems to be no connection between this case and the sniper murders, but have arranged for Miss Forrest to look at mug shots of any prisoners serving time at Castleview (during Redfield's imprisonment there) and subsequently released. Doubt if this will come up with a make since Redfield was in the death house for entire length of term before execution, although he may have had some contact with general prison population and arranged for harrassment of Miss Forrest and other survivors of his victims.
Miss Forrest’s previous contact with me on sniper case has left severe distaste for my personality. If subsequent investigation is indicated, I respectfully submit that case be truned over to someone else on the squad.
“Well, that's the thing.”
“I think we ought to get him.”
“Sure, but who is he?”
“Maybe we’ll get a make downtown. From those mug shots.”
“She promised to call in later, as soon as she's had a look.”
“Maybe we’ll be lucky.”
“Maybe.”
“If we’re not, I think we ought to smoke out this guy. I don’t like cops getting beat up, that's to begin with. And I don’t like the idea of this guy maybe waiting to jump on that girl. He knocked out four of Fairchild's teeth and broke three of his ribs. Who knows what he’d do to a helpless little girl?”
“She's about five-seven, Pete. Actually, that's pretty big. For a girl, I mean.”
“Still. If we’re not careful here, we may wind up with a homicide on our hands.”
“Well, that's projecting a little further than I think we have to, Pete.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I think we ought to smoke him out.”
“How?”
“Well, I’m not sure yet. What are you working on right now?”
“Those liquor-store holdups. And also an assault.”
“When was the last holdup?”
“Three nights ago.”
“What's your plan?”
“He seems to be hitting them in a line, Pete, straight up Culver Avenue. I thought I’d plant myself in the next store up the line.”
“You think he's going to hit again so soon?”
“They’ve been spaced about two weeks apart so far.”
“Then there's no hurry, right?”
“Well, he may change the timetable.”
“He may change the pattern, too. In which case, you’ll be sitting in the wrong store.”
“That's true. I just thought—”
“Let it wait. What's the assault?”
“Victim is a guy named Vinny Marino, he's a smalltime pusher, lives on Ainsley Avenue. About a week ago, two guys pulled up in a car and got out with baseball bats. They broke both his legs. The neighborhood rumble is that he was fooling around with one of their wives. That's why they went for his legs, you see, so he wouldn’t be able to chase around anymore. It's only coincidental that he's a pusher.”
“For my part, they could have killed him,” Byrnes said. He took his handkerchief from his back pocket, blew his nose, and then said, “Mr. Marino's case can wait, too. I want you to stay with this one, Bert.”
“I think we’d do better with another man. I doubt if I’ll be able to get any cooperation at all from her.”
“Who can I spare?” Byrnes asked. “Willis and Brown are on that knife murder, Hawes is on a planet of his own, Meyer and Carella are on this damn television thing, Andy Parker—”
‘Well, maybe I can switch with one of them.”
“I don’t like cases to change hands once they’ve been started.”
“I’ll do whatever you say, Pete, but—”
“I’d appreciate it,” Byrnes said.
“Yes, sir.”
“You can follow up the vendetta possibility if you like, but I agree with you. It’ll probably turn out to be a dead end.”
“I know. I just felt—”
“Sure, it was worth a try. See where it goes. Contact the rest of those survivors, and listen to what the Forrest girl has to say when she calls later on. But I wouldn’t bank on anything along those lines, if I were you.” Byrnes paused, puffed on his cigar, and then said, “She claims she doesn’t know him, huh?”
“That's right.”
“I thought maybe he was an old boyfriend.”
“No.”
“Rejected, you know, that kind of crap.”
“No, not according to her.”
“Maybe he just wants to get in her pants.”
“Maybe.”
“Is she good-looking?”
“She's attractive, yes. She's not a raving beauty, but I guess she's attractive.”
“Then maybe that's it.”
“Maybe, but why would he go after her in this way?”
“Maybe he doesn’t know any other way. He sounds like a hood, and hoods take what they want. He doesn’t know from candy or flowers. He sees a pretty girl he wants, so he goes after her—even if it means beating her up to get her. That's my guess.”
“Maybe.”
“And that's in our favor. Look what happened to Fairchild when he got in this guy's way. He knocked out his teeth and broke his ribs. Whatever he wants from this girl—and it's my guess all he wants is her tail—he's not going to let anybody stop him from getting it, law or otherwise. That's where you come in.”
“What do you mean?”
“That's how we smoke him out. I don’t want to do anything that’ll put this girl in danger. I want this punk to make his move against you, Bert.”
“Me?”
“You. He knows where she works, and chances are he knows where she lives, and I’ll bet my life he's watching her every minute of the day. Okay, let's give him something to watch.”
“Me?” Kling said again.
“You, that's right. Stay with that girl day and night. Let's—”
“Day and night?”
“Well, within reason. Let's get this guy so goddamn sore at you that he comes after you and tries to do exactly what he did to Fairchild.”
Kling smiled. “Gee,” he said, “suppose he succeeds?”
“Fairchild is a new cop,” Byrnes said. “You told me so yourself.”
“Okay, Pete, but you’re forgetting something, aren’t you?”
“What's that?”
“The girl doesn’t like me. She's not going to take kindly to the idea of spending time with me.”