by Dirk Greyson
Barty leaned back in his office chair, glad the door was closed. “So what should I do? Talk to him, watch him. This is all so confusing. If this is what I missed from high school by going to college so early, I’m dang glad.”
“Barty, that’s the problem. High school is where we learn all this stuff. You missed it, and you’re lost.”
He wanted to swear. It seemed he missed all those learning experiences that would help him deal with other people. So now he was completely useless, and no matter how much he studied or tried to learn, the one being he understood most was Penelope. Even he knew that was pathetic.
“So help me. You excelled in all that.”
“I can’t do that. What you do has to come from you. But think about what you want to do.”
“What I want is for him to say that he likes me and that we can date and go out a few times each week, he’d kiss me, and then after a few weeks, he’d take me home and we could have sex.” He was not telling his sister that he’d never had it before, or she’d never let him live it down. “See, that’s easy. No muss, no fuss, and everyone knows.”
“Where’s the mystery and romance in that? If you know everything that’s going to happen, then there’s no surprise.”
“Duh….” To borrow from some of his students.
“The whole purpose is to be surprised and to let someone else like you and do things for you. A guy you’re dating shouldn’t need to make an appointment weeks in advance like one of your grad students. It doesn’t work that way. And let me say that you’ll be glad for a little spontaneity. Falling in love is one of the most amazing experiences anyone can have, so don’t obsess or fear it, but embrace and go for it.” She sighed. “And since you’re so clueless about these things, don’t equate sex with love. Take your time, because sex is best when you’re in love.”
“I know all about that. I’m well aware of the body’s reactions.”
He heard a long-suffering sigh weave through the phone. “You’re the smartest person I know and yet you sometimes say the dumbest things. Love isn’t about hormones or physical responses. It’s more than that, and it will be a learning experience for you. Just don’t analyze it too much.”
“But what if I’m happy as I am?” Barty asked, and got another of those sighs.
“If you have a feline fetish and Penelope is willing to go along with that, by all means, knock yourself out. Heck, why don’t you get a few more cats and you can be like Mrs. Feldman down the block. Remember her? No, I don’t suppose you do. She died just before Nana did. She lived alone all her life, had cats, and when she died, they had to round all of them up and the eighteen kittens they found in the house. Is that what you want?”
“No.”
“Then whatever you decide, enjoy it and don’t get all angsty over it.” He heard a wail in the background. “Anna is getting up from her nap, so I have to go. But have fun.” She hung up, and Barty set his phone on his desk, wondering what he should do. Calling Jim seemed like a good idea, and maybe they could talk.
His office phone rang. “Dr. Halloran.”
“Barty, it’s Jim. We got another message from our shooter. Can you come out here? Take the train and I’ll meet you at the station. We really need you to listen. He called my voice mail and left the message directly.” Jim sounded anxious. “You’re mentioned in the message.”
Barty went cold. “Me?”
“Yes. Take the train out to the station and call when you get close. I’ll be there to meet you and bring you here. Do you have classes to teach on Fridays?” Jim spoke faster.
“No,” Barty answered.
“Then pack a bag and put Penelope in a carrier if you have one. Then get the two of you to the train and get here. You can stay with me for a while.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will when you hear this. I’d come and get you if I could, but we’re working like crazy here on this message. Can you promise me you’ll do as I ask? I’ll explain everything when you get here, and for God’s sake, don’t go anywhere alone if you can help it. Wait….” He set the phone down, and Barty waited. “Just get here as fast as you can.”
“Okay,” Barty said and hung up. He packed the papers he was planning to work on for the next few days, put a note on his door that office hours were cancelled for the rest of the week, and made his way out of the building. He’d driven in because of the dreary weather, so his car was waiting for him in his faculty spot, and he raced the rain to its cover. Barty made it home, hurried up to the apartment, and went inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Penelope wound around his legs, and he lifted her into his arms, carried her to the bedroom, and pulled the cat carrier from the closet.
Instantly, Penelope turned into the cat from hell. She clawed and wriggled until Barty got the door open and her inside. Then he closed the door, and she turned her back to him and sat with her butt pressed to the carrier door.
“You never do that.” He got some cat treats and put them inside. She ate them and then turned once more in a kitty huff.
He set the carrier on the bed and grabbed an overnight bag. He packed a few changes of clothes and his Dopp kit, then gathered supplies for Penelope. Once everything was inside, he grabbed his jacket and put it on. With his overnight and work bag containing his computer in one hand, Penelope in the other, Barty left the apartment, locked the door, and hurried down the stairs to the nearest train station a block away.
Penelope was not happy, and neither was Barty or the other people in the train car. She yelled the entire ride, sitting on the seat next to him. He called Jim to let him know he expected to arrive in ten minutes, and as soon as he stepped out onto the train platform, Jim met them, took the carrier, and peered inside.
“That’s enough out of you. Daddy is doing this to keep you safe!”
Silence, blessed silence.
“The car is right over here. Get inside and I’ll bring you up to date.” Jim strode across to the car, and Barty kept up and got in the front seat. At least this time he didn’t have to ride in back. “Sorry about all this, but we thought it best that you be nearby. I’ll play the message for you when we get back, but the shooter specifically mentioned you, by name. So we thought that maybe you might know the man from somewhere.”
“How would he know I was working with you unless he was watching? And if that’s the case, then we should narrow our search. New Cynwood is a pretty small community, correct? People are tight-knit, and everyone knows everyone, pretty much. It’s a typical society, country-club-set type of area. So a stranger poking around is going to be noticed, especially if he’s getting access to roofs. But if the shooter was someone everyone was used to seeing, they wouldn’t think twice.”
“That’s true. So you think it’s a local person.”
“Why would someone from the city or another area start shooting people here? There has to be a connection or something from the town that turned his ire this way. I know it’s so much more comfortable for people to think of threats coming from outside. A break-in is so much easier for people to understand than the maid who has been working for them for twenty years walking off with a piece of jewelry. She’s thought of as family of a sort and is trusted.”
“Our theory was that it was someone who resented the area’s affluence.” Jim felt a little stupid as soon as he said it. He’d been doing exactly what Barty had described.
“Look closer to home. People don’t travel that far for their violence. It’s usually close to where they live and what they know. Our shooter knows this town backward and forward, including which doors are locked and where he can get easy perch access. If that’s true, then he would have seen me with you the other day, and all he’d need to do was figure out who I was and he could put things together.”
“It isn’t like the shooter doesn’t know we’re looking for him,” Jim said.
“So you’re looking for him, and he’s watching you.” Barty shivered as Jim pulled into the stati
on. The thought that he was being watched freaked him out completely.
Jim parked and carried Penelope into the station. “I have the same conference room for you, and I thought you could let Penelope out as long as we kept the door closed,” he said, and Barty put his things inside, closed the door, and opened the carrier. He also set out Penelope’s bowls and a portable litter pan for her. She decided that her carrier was just where she wanted to be and stayed right where she was. “Let’s go.”
They closed the door behind them, and Barty followed Jim into the captain’s office.
“I apologize for putting you in this kind of danger.” Captain Westin put his phone on speaker and dialed into the system. Jim entered his voice mail pass code, and then the same distorted voice came through the speaker.
“You really are no closer to catching me than you ever were. But I understand your need to bring in help. Dr. Halloran is probably a good choice, but even he isn’t going to be able to help you. I do know what to do if he gets too close. Bang! I’m well aware of what you’re doing, and I have eyes in many places. You’re going to need a miracle to catch up with me. I’m already many moves ahead.” The recording ended, and Barty turned to Jim.
“He called me Dr. Halloran.”
“Is that all you’re worried about? He directly threatened your life. That’s why Crawford here offered to have you stay with him, so you’d have protection and wouldn’t be alone. And all you’re concerned about is your title?”
“No,” he said, turning toward Captain Westin and answering his question. “First thing, no matter what he says, he does know of me or at least my reputation, and it’s rattled him. Otherwise why bring me up at all. He called me doctor because that’s my official title, particularly in academia. People outside that world rarely refer to academics as ‘doctor.’”
“So he’s an academic,” Jim said. “That could help narrow things down immensely. Do you think that’s a red herring?”
“No. He left the message on the spur of the moment. He was trying to disguise his voice, but those devices only do so much. If I were to guess, I’d say he was worried and scared that he might have left some clues or a trail that I might be able to pick up on.” Barty thought a few minutes. “Let’s go over things again. We may be able to learn something based on this information.”
“All right, but I will not put a civilian in danger,” Captain Westin said forcefully. “You must stay with Crawford and do what he says.” He turned to Jim. “If you think he’s in direct danger, you get him out of here and away, even if that means getting him on a plane. I will not have another death that I can prevent.”
“Thank you, but I’m capable of taking care of myself,” Barty said.
“I’m sure you are, but this is a police matter, and by bringing you into this case, we’ve also exposed you to danger.”
“At the moment, this is blustering,” Barty said. “It’s the equivalent of a crank phone call. He doesn’t think he’s providing you with any new information, and he’s trying to have all of you running in circles.” He sat in one of the chairs. “I understand being concerned for my safety and that of the public, but don’t you see that by acting the way you are, you’re playing into his hand? He’s being manipulative. It’s what this guy does.”
“And when he doesn’t get what he wants, he shoots people,” Captain Westin said.
“Yes, he does. But he also wants very much to be in control, and right now we’re taking that away. He knows I’m working with you, so he’s probably aware that I’m trying to get into his head. His pattern of behavior may change, but he also knows his chances of discovery and capture have increased.”
“Just because of you?” Jim asked.
“Remember, our shooter is driven by ego and the belief that he’s smarter and better than everyone else. But you brought in an expert, someone he seems to know, or at least knows of, and feels could be a match for him.”
“So what do we do?” Jim asked.
“Change nothing. Let him know that he isn’t going to get the better of us, and then we’ll see how he reacts. I know you’ll think I’m crazy, but taking a little control is probably a good thing.”
“And if he starts shooting people…?” Jim asked.
“I don’t think he’s going to do that. He now has an opponent that he thinks is worthy of him, so he’s going to want to play his game. Let’s let him make his next move, and we’ll keep looking for the things we know about him.” Barty alternated his gaze between them but looked at Jim a lot more. “Can we expand our research? I know you’re looking at chess clubs and things like that, but let’s look at professors with strategic disciplines. This is someone who’s used to looking ahead, so maybe strategy, military disciplines. He’s obviously a good shot. Even economics.”
“You’re kidding,” Jim said.
“No. They are always looking ahead, building models to try to think as many steps ahead of the current economy and consumers as possible. They also try to explain how people behave with money and other factors, so that’s not as far-fetched as it may seem.”
Jim looked beat, and Barty wanted to help, but each of his ideas only added to Jim’s workload.
“We’ll see what we can do,” Jim said and pulled open the office door. Barty stood and followed him out. “How much of all this is really just spinning our wheels? I mean, we can gather as much information as we want, but with nothing to reference it to, it’s just information, piles of it.”
“I don’t know.” He looked at Jim as though he’d gone nuts. “I’m not an expert at solving crimes—that’s what you do. I’m only trying to give you insight into where to look. If what I’m telling you isn’t helpful, then say so and I’ll go away for a while and you can solve your case, and then I can go back to my boring little life with only my cat for company.” Where did that come from? The stuff from his sister must have worn off on him, and she must have hit closer to home than he thought. “I know it’s a big city and there are a number of universities, but based on the way he talked, it’s someone who works or teaches at one. And maybe the chess thing is valid as well.”
Jim turned away. “This whole case is frustrating. There’s no pattern to what he’s doing. Usually we look at the victims to see if there is something they have in common….”
“Detective….” An officer hurried up to Jim, breathless. “I found someone who might have seen our guy. His name is Roger Billings. He owns the shopping center across the street from the last shooting location. He said he saw a man about six feet, maybe thirty-five or so, in a jacket and dark jeans exiting out the back of the building a minute or so after the shooting. He said the man was carrying what looked like some kind of fishing pole case or something. He said he didn’t rush or hurry, but walked away from the scene as though he belonged there and knew where he was going. Unfortunately he didn’t see what car he went to, because after that, there was all the activity with the shooting itself.”
“Why didn’t he come forward before?” Jim asked.
“Mr. Billings is in a wheelchair and on oxygen, and he went into the hospital with an infection right after the shooting. He’s feeling better and stopped me on my patrol through the area. He said he’d come in if we needed him to.”
“No, I’ll go talk to him. Thank you.” Jim turned to Barty. “Stay here, please. I’m going to take this statement, and I have some other work to do, and then I’ll take you home and you can get settled.” Jim left, and Barty returned to the conference room.
Penelope peered out of the carrier when he came in and slowly ventured out. She settled on his lap, watching the door. “Are you looking for Jim?”
Penelope gave him a low meow and then settled down to wait.
JIM CAME back about an hour later. Penelope jumped down and wandered to the conference room door, then sat and waited for him to cross to the glass door. Barty picked her up so she didn’t run out as Jim came inside.
“We may have gotten a break. It looks like
our shooter was seen at least for a few seconds, and we know how he carried his gun in and out.”
“The fishing pole case?” Barty asked.
“Yeah. This is the first really huge break we’ve gotten so far, and it’s pathetic.” Jim flopped down in the chair with a huff. “We should have gotten further.”
“What about the aerial pictures?”
“That was a bust. We got a few samples, and as we suspected, there is no way we can see to that level of detail. We have lots of ideas and very little in the way of putting them into practice. Granted, what are we going to do, photograph everything constantly and then wait for a bullet casing to appear, if it ever does? Like you said, this guy is smart, so he’ll probably change his routine.”
“What kind of description did you get?”
“A man, about six feet, wearing dark street clothes, probably to blend in. He carried the case, and the only reason Mr. Billings even remembered the guy was because he has a funny way of walking. He said that maybe he’d been injured at some time, but he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t a limp exactly, but he favored one leg. Mr. Billings said it was how he used to walk before he was confined to the chair—he has MS.”
“That’s interesting,” Barty said.
“How does that fit into your theory?”
“I’m not sure.” Barty put Penelope down now that the door was closed, and she wandered around before rubbing against Jim’s legs and then jumping into his lap. The scene could have been domestic if they hadn’t been sitting in a conference room in a police station. “It could be that his physical condition is putting a time squeeze on his ambitions, and if they were thwarted, again and again, it could add to his frustration and push him over the boundary of rational thought all that much quicker. I’m really trying here, but I think you expect me to be able to think the way he does, and all I can give you is my best opinion.”
