Chapter One

In the predawn dark of Rockefeller Park, NYPD Detective Chiara Corelli walked briskly toward death. Her footsteps echoed in the silence broken only by the sounds of her breathing and the soft slapping of the water along the familiar Hudson River path.

She loved this time of day. Loved the freshness of the air. Loved the feeling of being cocooned in its velvety darkness, the feeling of unlimited possibilities as the dawn’s light splintered the sky. But she missed the warmth of the sun. She tugged the collar of her coat higher on her neck. In comparison to recent weather, this morning was balmy, forty degrees headed into the fifties, but still cold enough to seep deep into her bones, as it had ever since she was shot. She shivered remembering that less than six months ago she was lying near death just minutes from here and only the quick thinking of Parker, her partner, kept her from bleeding out.

Like most things in life, some good had come out of the trauma of nearly dying. She had stopped fighting her feelings for her girlfriend, Brett, and had begun to deal with Marnie’s death. And she and Parker had become friends. Or maybe she should say friendlier. Corelli took a deep breath, noting the hint of spring in the air. She wasn’t fooled, though. March was freaky. One minute it felt like spring and the next you were in the middle of a blizzard.

When she arrived at Penny Park, she looked around to get her bearings and then ducked under the yellow police tape. She’d been here with Brett so she knew to avoid the many cartoonish bronze statues and large bronze pennies strewn about.

“Detective Corelli?” She squinted at the officer who’d recognized her in the dim glow of the park lights. “I’m Officer Lydia Ortega.”

Corelli tried to remember the names of police she worked with but she didn’t think she’d ever run into Ortega. “What do we have?”

“My partner and I responded to the 911. Tim Ryder, the guy with the dog standing there”—she pointed toward the staircase on the other side of the small park—“called it in at 6:14 a.m. He was the only one around when we arrived. EMTs declared the male dead and reported he was already stiff when they got here.”

“Thanks, Ortega. What would we do without dog walkers to find the bodies?” Corelli didn’t wait for an answer to the rhetorical question. “We’ll talk to Ryder when we’re done here. And good job taping the scene.” Corelli signed in, pulled on booties and gloves and then went to the victim. She knelt over the body of the slender, youngish man with long blond hair, sprawled on his stomach next to the bronze sculpture of a cat. It was still too dark to see him clearly, but the reek of excrement combined with the lack of a pulse in his carotids confirmed he was dead. She raised her head to breathe in the briny smell of the Hudson River wafting on the breeze and came face-to-face with her pissed-off partner, Detective P.J. Parker, kneeling on the opposite side of the dead man.

“Damn it, Corelli, why didn’t you wait for me to pick you up?”

She’d expected the anger but last night had been one of the rare times she and Brett had slept at Brett’s Battery Park City apartment and Penny Park was just a five-to-ten-minute walk from there. And since her leg still wasn’t strong enough for her to run along the river, the walk here was the next best thing. Besides, she didn’t agree with Parker’s assessment that she was still a target for some of their brethren in blue. “Like my text said, walking got me here faster than waiting for you to pick me up.”

Parker wasn’t buying it. “We agreed I would continue to function as your bodyguard as long as I felt it was necessary. Remember?”

“I don’t give a f—” Corelli caught herself. She took some yoga breaths and swallowed the anger that was quick to rise at the least provocation. Parker was right. She had agreed. And she’d gone back on her word. “Sorry. It just seemed easier since I was so close.”

Would Parker drag it out or accept her apology? Parker met her eyes. “Damn right you won’t. Brett would kill me if I let anything happen to you.” She dropped her gaze to the victim. “What do we have here?”

Forgiven. Or at least apology accepted. “You tell me.”

After eight months Parker was exceptional at reading a crime scene. She really didn’t need the experience but training her was a part of the deal they’d made after Corelli exposed a group of dirty police and found herself on the wrong side of the blue wall. At the time, neither wanted to work with the other, but they’d come to a mutually beneficial agreement. Corelli would train Parker as a homicide detective while Parker functioned as her bodyguard. The partnership had worked out well, at least from Corelli’s point of view. She thought Parker felt the same but because of her inexplicable habit of dumping her anger on Parker and because of Parker’s reticence, she couldn’t be sure.

The sky was brightening as Parker stood and paced the area marked off by the crime tape. She smiled at the whimsical sculptures but her gaze was all business, scrutinizing the scene for any clue as to what might have happened here. Finally, she knelt next to Corelli. “No blood that I can see.” She touched the man’s carotid artery then his arm. “Male in his thirties, blond hair, brown eyes, no pulse, near full rigor, no visible blood, though we may find some under him. He’s dressed casually in boots, a down jacket and jeans so not a jogger and no sign of a dog. Maybe he lives nearby and was out for a walk.” She picked up his hand and studied his palm, then moved around to check the other hand. “His clothing and his hands are clean. His lack of calluses indicates a desk job rather than hard labor.”

“Recognize him?”

Parker shook her head. “You know all these white guys look alike to me.”

Corelli knew the joke was Parker signaling she wasn’t holding a grudge. But then she never did, no matter how shitty Corelli treated her.

They looked up at the sound of Medical Legal Investigator Gloria Ndep’s voice. Corelli glanced at Parker. As usual, she appeared professional when faced with the woman she may have been in bed with when she got called to the scene a short time before.

Ndep signed in, pulled on protective gear and then approached them. “Good morning, detectives, what have we got on this lovely day?”

Although Ndep wasn’t a detective, she had medical, forensics and investigative training, a keen eye and an analytic mind. Corelli respected her ability to analyze a crime scene and read the victim. Sometimes Ndep saw things she and Parker missed. “We’d appreciate your take on it.”

“Okay. Let’s see what we can see.” She pursed her lips and surveyed the area. “I guess it’s called Penny Park because of those bronze pennies everywhere. But what are these funny little creatures? Is it meaningful that he died in the middle of these strange sculptures in this unusual park?”

“Good question. This whole installation”—Corelli waved her hand—“is a commentary on capitalism. The bronze sculptures are cartoonish representations of capitalists, laborers, bohemians, and animals interacting. It’s political. Once we identify our vic, the reason he died here might become clear. Or not.”

Ndep began sketching the scene on her iPad. Parker did the same with pencil and paper while Corelli took pictures with her iPhone.

“Morning.” Lopez, the crime scene unit photographer, greeted them and immediately got to work photographing the body.

When Lopez indicated she gotten the pictures she needed in this position, Ndep put her iPad down and began her examination of the victim. “No visible wounds on the back of his head, neck, torso or legs.” She looked at his hands. “Rigor. No rings. No calluses, nails manicured.” She bagged his hands, frowned, then felt along his right arm. “The rigor makes it hard to be sure but I’d guess this arm is broken. Help me turn him, Detective Parker.”

Lopez continued to take pictures.

Because of the rigidity, it was difficult to move him but with Corelli’s help they flipped him onto his back.

“His face is clear.” Ndep unzipped his jacket and pulled his sweater up. “No wounds that I can see on his chest.” She pulled the neck of the turtleneck down. “Extensive bruising on his neck.” She checked his eyes. “Red spots, petechiae in the eyes. Looks like he was strangled.” She unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. Parker helped her pull the jeans down. “No visible signs of sexual activity. Let’s turn him again.”

Corelli put her hand out. “Wait, let me take a picture of his face so we can use it to get an identification.” She took several photos from different angles, then they turned him onto his stomach again.

Ndep pulled his jacket and sweater up and examined his back. “There’s extensive premortem bruising on his back and around his kidneys. It looks like he has a couple of broken ribs. Livor mortis, where the blood pooled, indicates he was lying on his back after death. It’s likely he was killed elsewhere and dumped here.” She ran her fingers through his hair, then pulled the turtleneck down exposing the back of his neck. “The bruising on the front of his neck and his back indicates the killer strangled him from behind, maybe put a knee in the kidney area to weaken him.” She took his anal temperature and made notes on her iPad. Parker helped her pull his pants up. Ndep searched his rear pockets but came up empty. “Help me tilt him, please.” Parker and Corelli tipped him onto one side than the other to give Ndep access to the other pockets in his pants and jacket. She handed Corelli some change, a Metro card, keys, a pack of Marlboros, and a wad of cash.

Corelli dropped everything but the keys and the cash into the evidence bag Parker held out for her. “Three hundred dollars in fifties and twenties.” She dumped the money in the bag, placed the keys in a smaller bag and pocketed them.

“Just this in his jacket pockets.” Ndep handed Parker a crumpled piece of paper. She smoothed the page. “Looks like an invoice.” She passed it to Corelli. “Do you think it’s even related?”

Account number: 03151752

Amount: $4,000/month

Remit to: Deep Dig Excavation Services

305 Van Brunt Street #201

Red Hook, NY 11231

Corelli frowned. “I’d expect an hourly or daily rate for digging but I guess this could be a flat rate for a month of service. Could be our vic is building something or maybe he runs Deep Dig Excavation.” She slipped the page into an evidence bag. “Interesting that he has no ID. It doesn’t look like robbery or a sex meetup to me. What’s your take, Ndep?”

Ndep looked up from her iPad. “As I said, I doubt he was killed here. But the cash does contradict robbery. And while the park might point to a meetup, I didn’t see any indication of sexual activity when I examined him and I don’t see anything else that points that way. We’ll know more after the autopsy.”

“What about time of death?” Parker said.

Ndep studied her iPad. “Livor and rigor mortis are both advanced so I’d guess between seven p.m. and midnight last night but I’ll have a better guess after the autopsy.” She waved at the two men standing at the top of the staircase with a gurney. “We’ll take him now. I’ll let you know when we schedule the autopsy.”

The morgue techs moved through the small crowd that had gathered, carried the gurney down the steps and wheeled it over to Ndep. The three got to work stuffing the rigid body into the body bag. Distracted by their struggle, Corelli was surprised when the crime scene team appeared. She greeted the team then turned to Parker. “I’m going to talk to the witness, you work with these guys.”

The young man kneeling next to a large dog, maybe a lab, stood as she approached.

“I’m Detective Corelli, Mr. Ryder. You found the body?”

“Yes. I walk my dog here every morning before dawn. I usually sit at the table down there for a few minutes to watch the sunrise over the water. I thought the guy was drunk but when Bella started whining and pulling on the leash to get to him, I realized something was off. When I got closer, I could smell him so I used my phone flashlight to get a better look. It was clear he was dead so I called 911.”

“Was anyone in the park when you approached?”

“No. It was pretty early. While I waited for the police, a few joggers ran by on the path but nobody in or near Penny Park.”

“Did you encounter anyone on the way to the park?”

He shook his head. “As I said, it was early. I rarely see anyone before dawn.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ryder. You can go.” She handed him her card. “Give me a call if you remember anything or anybody unusual.”