something bad happens
While I was writing that last entry, Something Bad started to happen across the street. At first I thought it was some small child throwing a tantrum. Why on earth do so many people drag their kids around NYC at all hours of the night? And then it stopped sounding like a small child throwing a tantrum, and started sounding more and more like an adult screaming in fear, or in pain. I went to the window and couldn't see where it was coming from, but now it really sounded like something that you called the cops about. I got the phone, dialed 911, and rushed back to the window. Somebody--a man in a green jacket--crossed the street. He looked down into the darkness beneath the stoop of an old brownstone, down where the garbage cans live by the door to the basement apartment. I saw him go into the darkness, duck down, and then get back up. Somebody very large stood up as well. The large man arranged his black coat and his grey cap and started to saunter away. Green Jacket followed him. Large Man picked up his pace; others, also drawn by the sound, were zeroing in on this guy, and soon all of them were running west towards Tenth. I was on 911 trying to give a play-by-play, probably sounding a little frantic as things escalated from "I hear screaming" to "They've turned north on Tenth; they're running, please hurry." And then they were gone from my field of vision, and the street was quiet again. My 911 call ended. A man in a red jacket, walking his golden retriever, had stopped by the stoop, was looking down into the darkness. Another person stood up. A woman? Black coat? Was her face bloody? She didn't look steady: was she hurt, or just freaked out? I could see cop cars pulling up along the avenue. I heard shouting. Green Jacket returned for a moment, which made me think that Large Man was under wraps somewhere. The woman, the man in red, the dog, wobbled off towards Tenth.
...And now here I am, back at my desk, and it's three hours later. Our neighbors Alex and Molly had made a 911 call as well, and we all went down to the street to give statements to the police. Green Jacket and a friend of his were there too; they'd tackled the guy in the middle of Tenth Avenue and held him there until the cops showed. Eventually--finally--the people who live in the brownstone whose basement entry had been the setting for all this came to their door. At the cops' request Alex and Molly and Green Jacket and his friend and I went up to the precinct.
Things I learned on my trip to the precinct:
- Squad cars are like taxis inside, only much less comfortable.
- Cops don't get enough sleep.
- The guys from the Special Victims Unit dress like they've wandered in off the set of Law & Order. Nice grey wool overcoats.
- The arresting officer was 24. He was seven minutes away from the end of his shift when he got the call. He'll be doing paperwork until at least 4AM.
- Police officers have computers, but they still use typewriters for much of their paperwork.
- Midtown North's Precinct Room has a podium that makes you think immediately of Hill Street Blues.
I also found out little bit more about what happened. It was an attempted rape. Large Man seems more than a little nuts: when initially confronted by Green Jacket, his response was "This is none of your business," but (after he was pulled off his victim and chased down the street) he was aware enough that what he had done was wrong to try to convince the cops that Green Jacket and his friend were trying to rob him and that's why they were pinning him down in the middle of Tenth Avenue. The man with the dog convinced the victim to talk to the police--apparently she wanted to just go home--but he didn't stick around to make a statement.
How much more do I want to know? I'm not sure. I'm angry at the big crazy man who decided to hurt somebody: angry for what he did to that woman, another human being; angry for how he has shaken up the neighborhood; angry for all the sleep I've lost by now. I'm relieved because the detective I spoke with was quite sure that they'd get a conviction on this case, although he also expected that questioning the perp would be a long and challenging process. I'm frustrated to have seen that the lights had been turned on above that basement entrance when we got back onto the block: if they had been turned on at dusk, this might never have happened. I'm relieved and proud to see that so many people in the neighborhood were willing to sound the alarm--hell, and to get in there and tackle a big crazy person--when it became necessary. I'm sick at heart for the victim. Wherever you are, whoever you are, I hope that eventually--that soon--you'll be okay.
Now I need to go to bed.