Page 103 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“And hanging around the Albany State Plaza isn’t yours,Tewatsirókwas.”
As tense as she was, Hadley couldn’t help but admire the way the lawyer had whipped out Paul’s Iroquois name.
“Enough.” The chief jerked his thumb toward the stairs. “You both go. Yíxin, he’s got the training. Do whatever he says when he says it.” He turned to her and Flynn. “Knox, Kevin, you help move the crowd out. Keep things calm and quiet. Clare, with me. We’re going to see what’s going on at that state police office.” He brought his hands together, exactly the same gesture he always made when concluding the morning briefing at the station. “Off we go. Don’t try to be a hero.”
9.
The lit, yet locked state police station gave Russ a bad feeling, even without the stacks of “gift boxes” near its entrance. He and Clare were closer to their destination than anyone else; the heavy glass doors leading up to the plaza were just shutting behind the lawyer and Paul Terrance, and Knox and Kevin were still wrangling the crowd along with the synagogue security guards.
“Wait here.” He squeezed Clare’s shoulder and entered the tiny lobby. He pulled one of the two chairs over to the reception window, and braced to mount the thing. “How are they doing out there?”
“Kevin’s trying to keep four food truck owners from carrying their cart with them. It looks a little like the Ark of the Covenant.”
He stood on the chair, bending the top of his head to fit under the ceiling. “I can’t see anybody. I don’t like—”
“Russ, there’s a problem with the exit.”
Russ huffed as he hopped down. He walked out of the office to take a look. The crowd was backing up behind the doors to Madison Avenue, compressing into a solid mass of increasingly agitated humanity. He couldn’t see what the issue was, but no one was leaving. “What the hell?”
A woman’s scream hit him in stereo, two notes jolting his adrenaline until he realized it was two different women screaming, one from the crowd piling up in front of the exit, one from the stairwell they had entered from.
Zhào hit one of the heavy glass doors so hard it thudded against the wall. “He’s been shot! Paul’s been shot!”
Her words echoed through the concourse, igniting the latent panic in the crowd. People shouted, yelled, jostled. First one, then three, then the whole mass turned and began running north. Toward safety. Or toward another ambush.
“We have to stop them.” Clare dashed to the center of the concourse before he could grab her. He sprinted to catch up. They both splayed their arms out like synchronized school crossing guards and bellowed, “Stop!”
Miraculously, they weren’t knocked over and trampled. Over the clamor and crying, he could hear other voices calling out, “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Khalil and Johnson waded through the crowd, a bedraggled Rabbi Jess between them.
The rabbi raised her hands and shouted, “Quiet!” in a command voice that rivaled Clare’s.
The crowd fell silent. Russ turned to the young attorney, standing transfixed by the doors, tear-streaked and trembling. “Yíxin. What happened?”
She wiped her face and took a deep breath. “We went up the stairs and paused at the top. He said he wanted to go to the middle of the plaza before calling. Before using the phone. He went out first because I was putting on my coat, you know?” She looked to Clare, as if asking forgiveness. “He was only a step or two ahead of me!” She wiped her face again. “Then there was the noise. I mean, I know what a gunshot sounds like, I was on the range with the state police during training day…” She ran out of words.
He kept his voice gentle. “Go on.”
“He was shot. He just, he just stumbled backwards, and I could see the blood, and I, and I—” She burst into tears. “I didn’t even try to help him! I just ran!”
Clare enfolded the young woman in a hug. Russ raised his voice. “Is there a doctor—”
A man shouldered his way out of the crowd. “I’m an ER doctor.”
A second man, with a build like a weightlifter, joined him. “I’ve had paramedic training. If you want to bring him down, I can help.” He held up one of the tablecloths for a makeshift stretcher.
Yíxin turned to the now-closed door and hauled it open.
“Wait.” Russ pointed to Knox. “Go with them. Provide covering fire if necessary.” She nodded and unholstered her gun. “ID where the shot came from if you can, but the priority is getting everyone back down safely.”
“Understood, Chief.” She led the rescuers slowly up the stairs.
“Johnson, Khalil. What was the problem with the street exit?”
“Locked.” The tall security guard sounded disgusted.
“We don’t know how,” Khalil said, before Russ could ask. “I thought I saw something jammed into one of the latch mechanisms, but it was hard to tell.”
“I should have checked earlier.” Johnson’s mouth twisted.
