A DOZEN COP CARS, SEVERAL AMBULANCES, POLICE BARRICADES, THE PRESS AND A CURIOUS PUBLIC WERE ALREADY THERE AS DETECTIVES LINCOLN AND COOK ARRIVED AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE CENTRAL PARK ZOO.
“Who the Hell died – The Mayor?” asked Lincoln, as he stepped from the car. Gail winced, hoping nobody heard him. Maybe she alone understood his dry sense of humor was not a barometer of his skill set as a homicide detective. Though sometimes she’d admit she would prefer it if he toned it down a little when other people were around.
In that moment, three deep into the crowd of onlookers trying to get a glimpse beyond the park entrance, one tall svelte and well-dressed man stood unnoticed. Going unnoticed was one of Wohl’s most valuable attributes in his chosen vocation.
As Lincoln and Cook approached the burly uniformed Sergeant Budianski, they both quietly noticed he was a little pale. Spooked.
“What have we got, Sarge?” asked Lincoln.
“A woman, apparently,” replied Budianski, taking a deep breath. “Early twenties? She was… I’m sorry.” The large older man leaned back against his squad car and took a moment to compose himself. Lincoln and Cook quietly shared a look: what could possibly have happened that left this old war horse so rattled?
“Rookie named Greer found the body,” the sergeant finally managed. “You need to talk to him.”
As the detectives slipped past the barricade, Wohl anonymously moved in the other direction. He had work to do.