Sexually transmitted diseases and a reduced bank account aren’t the only drawbacks when visiting a prostitute, as one apparently disappointed and critically wounded customer discovered on May 24.
The victim, a 37-year-old Philadelphia resident, was patronizing a house (or rather apartment) of ill repute at 1270 First Avenue around 3 p.m. when something went terribly wrong. The cops still aren’t sure what, but it resulted in the john suffering multiple stab wounds to his arms, buttocks and abdomen.
The NYPD became aware of the incident when the victim, bleeding profusely, ran into the back of Famiglia, a pizzeria at 69th Street and First Avenue, perhaps looking for a bathroom. A restaurant employee called 911.
“It’s like his intestines are hanging out,” said a police official who responded to the scene. “He’s cut really bad.”
The male told the police that he was hit by a car, but it was obvious from his wounds that he’d been in a fight. “He’s got defensive marks on his arms,” the police official said. “He’s been stabbed in his buttocks.”
The police canvassed the area for other witnesses or victims; they found a trail of blood instead. “They see blood droplets going into a residential building,” said the police official, referring to the building where the hookers plied their trade. (Though the NYPD keeps pretty close tabs on prostitution locations, this one was unknown to them until the incident.) “They gain entry to an apartment, where it’s quite obvious that mace was discharged in the apartment.”
The police arrested the apartment’s two occupants, one a female, the other a transvestite. “All we know is he was receiving sex for money and something went horribly wrong,” the police official said.
Inspector James Rogers, the 19th Precinct’s commanding officer, said that the victim was so gravely wounded when he was rushed to New York–Presbyterian Hospital that he was considered likely to die. “He’s doing much, much better,” said the inspector; he added that the knife used in the crime was recovered at the scene. The prostitutes, a 36-year-old female and a 20-year-old of indeterminate sex (the cops put a question mark in the space reserved for “sex” on their report forms), were both charged with assault in the first degree.
“It worked out good,” said Inspector Rogers, who commended his troops for solving the crime-without the victim’s cooperation-in under an hour. “We don’t know if there’s more people stabbed; maybe he’s the perp,” he said of the situation the police confronted when they arrived on the scene. “Maybe he stabbed members of his family. We were able to put it to sleep right away, wrap it up, put a bow on it.”
The Lycée Français de New York no doubt helped its endowment when it sold the mansions that the school formerly occupied on 72nd Street just off Fifth Avenue for millions of dollars. But what the Lycée got in cash, it may have sacrificed in safety when it moved to its new location at 505 East 75th Street.
While the address isn’t exactly Sadr City, Lycée Français students were roughed up by fellow teenagers in two recent incidents. On May 17, a 13-year-old male student informed the police that a perpetrator grabbed him from behind, put him in a head lock and stated, “Empty your pockets!” as he was walking along the F.D.R. overpass at 76th Street at 4:15 p.m.
When the victim, an East 78th Street resident, refused, responding, “No, leave me alone,” the thief punched him in the face and also struck him in the face using his knee.
The crook started to go through the boy’s pockets, but he screamed and his assailant departed quickly, walking westbound toward York Avenue. The adolescent received a swollen lip, but none of his property was taken.
In another incident the following day, a 15-year-old Lycée Français student and his 14-year-old friend were walking along the same overpass at 12:30 p.m. when they were accosted by four teenagers described as 15 and 16 years old. One of them commanded, “Run your pockets. I’m gonna kick your ass!”
Perhaps the perps thought the boys, in their navy Lycée blazers and bilingual ways, were easy pickings. But the students displayed some surprising, might we say continental, pluck. As had their schoolmate the previous day, they stood their ground, refusing to surrender to the bad guys, who walked away without further incident.
Polite Bank Heist
Succeeding at the business of bank robbery may have something to do with your delivery. You want to be brief and to the point, threatening and calm as you seem to have things under control. It probably also doesn’t hurt if you act a little crazy.
The bank robber who visited the Washington Mutual branch at 1221 Madison Avenue on May 27 was apparently too courteous for his own good. Approaching a teller window at 9:45 a.m., he said something to the effect of “Sorry to ruin your day” before passing the bank worker a note that stated: “I have a bomb and I just need $2,000 and I will go quietly.” He was carrying an attaché case.
Rather than reward him for his empathy or take the attaché case seriously, the teller hit the alarm button, and the suspect-described as six feet tall, 45 years old and wearing a blue Sean Jean baseball cap (the cops have a pretty crisp photo of the guy off the bank’s security cameras)-fled empty-handed in an unknown direction.
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