Trio

Death, which lurks in every corner of a big metropolis, struck with unusual suddenness in New York City last week: P:Shy Josephine Marra, 29, was embarrassed by the awful pain in her abdomen. She had no idea what caused it. She had just been walking along Brooklyn's Greene Avenue, had doubled up, and then had fallen. Flustered, she allowed a passer-by to help her into a small, private hospital. But the doctor was about to perform an operation on another patient, and asked her to wait. She left, walked seven blocks to her home. The puzzling pain grew worse. After two hours Josephine's stepmother called a doctor. He took one alarmed look, decided to send her to a hospital. But the ambulance did not come for another hour. When emergency-ward surgeons finally discovered her trouble it was too late. She died without knowing that a .22 caliber bullet, fired by boys playing on a housetop, had gone through her back and into her stomach. P:At four in the morning, Hector A. Orta, a small, brown-faced Puerto Rican, walked into a Times Square subway station. There were only a dozen people in the echoing cavern, but one of them--a huge, slack-faced man--was drunk. As he reeled and mumbled, the rest watched him nervously. Suddenly they shrank back against the shiny, tile walls; the drunken man was twirling a revolver. He swung around, his eyes full of cunning, and threw his free arm around the neck of the man nearest to him--which happened to be Hector Orta. The big man pushed the revolver against the little man and fired. He fired twice more. Later, two policemen came and took him away. He said his name was Kelly--Joseph Kelly--but he didn't know why he had killed Hector A. Orta. P: Alexander Cook, 41, a mailman, father of four, was making his last round of the day on Manhattan's lower Seventh Avenue. It was cold and windy, and he had his face buried in his collar. Above him, on the roof of a 15-story apartment building, Mrs. Natalie Biro, a blonde, 36-year-old radio actress, was getting ready to commit suicide. She had tied her hair in a kerchief, put on slacks (which would not billow in the wind) and pinned her purse to them. Two seconds after she closed her eyes and jumped she landed squarely on the head and shoulders of Alexander Cook, smashing him to the sidewalk, killing herself and him.

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