All The Dead Girls
Page 2
Nick swiped his finger across the screen and another picture of a dead woman appeared. She was dressed in a white T-shirt and beige slacks, and there were large bloodstains on her chest and left side. Her slacks were pulled down, exposing white panties.
“Where did you find this phone?” Nick swiped to the next photo.
“On the floor.”
The woman in the third picture had been stabbed in the chest and stomach.
“I think he killed all these women,” Holly said.
“Who?”
“Whoever this phone belongs to. He killed them and then took their pictures.”
She says he. It could be a woman. There have been female serial killers.
There were two more photos of dead women. One victim had been stabbed in the chest and the other in the chest and stomach.
“You may be right.” Nick opened the messaging app. Nothing. He checked the call history and found that it was empty. The contact list was empty, too.
There were no messages in the email Inbox and Sent folder.
Nick gave the phone back to Holly and looked up and down the aisle, scanning the passengers. Was one of them a serial killer? His heart fluttered at the thought.
“Do you know who this phone belongs to?” he asked.
“No.” Holly shook her head.
Had the killer tortured those women? Had he buried their bodies or dumped them somewhere?
Nick put the book in his bag. “Maybe he downloaded these pictures from the Internet?”
Her brow furrowed in thought, Holly was silent for a long moment, then reached into her bag, pulled out a computer tablet, and turned it on.
Photos taken with a cellphone were usually saved in the Camera folder and their filenames contained the date they were snapped.
“Can I have the phone?” Nick held out his hand. “I want to check something.”
“Just a moment.” Holly opened the Email app on the phone, tapped the Compose button, and attached all the pictures of the murdered women to the message. Then she typed the recipient’s email address into the To box and tapped Send.
Who had she emailed the pictures to?
Holly gave the phone to Nick and opened the Email app on her tablet.
She must have sent the photos to herself.
Nick opened the Apps screen on the phone, tapped the Gallery icon, and saw that all the pictures on the device were stored in the Camera folder. He checked the filenames of three photos of the murdered women and found that they contained the dates they were snapped.
It appeared that those gruesome pictures had been taken with this phone.
Nick watched Holly launch the Internet browser on her tablet and google “photo metadata reader.”
“What is it?” Nick asked.
“Every photo taken with a phone has information embedded in it. It’s called metadata.”
Holly was one smart girl.
“What kind of information?”
“You’ll see.” Holly went to a website called Metadata Viewer, clicked the Choose File button, and opened the Downloads folder. “This is one of those pictures,” she said, opening a file.
Holly clicked the Start Analyzing File button, and a few moments later a table with the photo’s metadata information appeared on the screen. Nick scanned the table, which contained such items as Aperture, Bits Per Sample, Camera Model Name, Color Components, Color Space, Components Configuration, Compression, Create Date, and Encoding Process.
“Can I have the phone?” Holly said. Nick handed her the cell, and she opened the About Phone screen. “Look at the model number.”
The phone’s model number was GCH-G738C.
“Now look at this.” Holly pointed at the camera model name in the metadata table. It was the same as the phone’s model number.
Holly said, “It’s the same model. He took those pictures.”
She scrolled down the metadata table, revealing dozens more items.
“There’s no information about where the picture was taken,” she said. “He must’ve turned off the geotagging function.”
“Where exactly did you find the phone?”
“Near the restroom.”
Had the killer dropped the phone on the way to or from the restroom or did he sit near it?
Nick believed that besides Holly, at least two passengers had gone to the restroom since he had boarded the bus. He had paid no attention to them, so he didn’t know what they looked like or what they wore or where they sat.
Nick said, “So what are we going to do?”
“I think we should find out who this phone belongs to. The guy’s on this bus.”
“Why not call the police and let them handle this?”
“If you’re scared, I’ll do it on my own.”
Nick wasn’t scared. What was there to be scared of? The owner of the phone was a serial killer, but he would not dare to kill them in the bus, in front of so many witnesses, would he?
“I’m not scared,” Nick said.
Holly probably wanted to find out who the owner of the phone was before he got off the bus so she could point him out to the cops.
The next stop was Buffalo. The owner of the phone might get off there. Nick glanced at his watch. It was 12:54 p.m. He pulled his ticket from his pocket and checked the itinerary. They were scheduled to arrive in Buffalo at 1:40 p.m., forty-six minutes from now.
How were they going to figure out who the phone belonged to?
Nick looked around the bus. He didn’t see anyone who seemed to have lost something.
Maybe the guy fell asleep before noticing he’d lost his phone?
“I wonder if it’s a burner phone,” Holly said.
The police would have a hard time finding the owner of the cell if it was a burner phone.
“Do you know how to check the phone number?” Nick asked.
Holly nodded. “I already have.”
“Can I see it?”
Holly opened the Status screen on the phone and showed Nick the phone number. It had a 682 area code, which belonged to Fort Worth.
“Did you write it down?” Nick asked.
“Yes.”
Maybe they should just ask if anyone had lost a phone? The owner of the cell didn’t know that they’d seen the pictures and figured out he was a serial killer.
Nick said, “Let’s ask if anyone lost a phone.”
Holly hesitated. “Okay. Let me delete the email I sent myself.”
She deleted the email with the pictures of the murdered women from the Sent folder and handed him the cell.
“Did anyone lose a phone?” Nick called out,
There was no answer. A middle-aged man with black hair and a craggy face three rows ahead of Nick turned and glanced at him.
“Did anyone lose a phone?” Nick called out again, holding up the cell.
“It’s mine,” said a voice behind him.
Chapter 4
1
Nick turned and saw a tall, rangy man in his early twenties with a small goatee four rows behind him stepping into the aisle. He was wearing a Tupac Shakur T-shirt and sagging jeans that revealed his navy blue boxers.
Nick stared at the man’s face, committing it to memory.
They should take his picture.
Was he armed?
Nick was sure he could take the guy in a fistfight.
Did Holly intend to put the owner of the phone under citizen’s arrest?
The man walked up to Nick, and he gave him the phone.
“Thank you.” The man examined the cell and then shook his head. “It’s not mine.” He returned the phone to Nick.
“No problem.”
The man went back to his seat.
The guy must have just wanted a free phone, and this one was too cheap for his taste.
Now the owner of the phone knew who had his phone and they had no idea who he was. Nick felt a little uneasy at the thought, but he wasn’t scared. He was a hard man to scare.
�
��You think he’s telling the truth?” Holly said.
Nick nodded. “I think he just wanted a free phone.”
The fact that the owner of the cell hadn’t come forward meant that he suspected Nick had seen the pictures and figured out that he had murdered those women.
Or maybe he was asleep or listening to music.
Nick looked at the passenger across the aisle, a husky man in his late twenties in a Bob Marley T-shirt and shorts, who was reading a book. He was sure the guy had heard him ask if anyone had lost a phone.
Nick slipped out of his seat and started toward the front of the bus, nonchalantly scanning the passengers. A sleeping man in a blue Adidas T-shirt in the fifth row. A woman in a floral blouse with earphones in her ears in the fourth row (the killer could be a woman, right?). A guy in a gray tank top resting in the arms of Morpheus in the second row.
No one was asleep or listening to music in the front row. Nick turned around and then gently shook the shoulder of the guy in the gray tank top. When the man opened his eyes, Nick held up the killer’s cell and said, “Excuse me. Is this your phone?”
The guy reached into his pocket, pulled out a cell, and replied, “No.”
Nick walked to the fourth row and held the killer’s phone in front of the woman in the floral blouse. She took out her earbuds, and he said, “I’m sorry. Is this your phone?”
“No,” the woman said, and put her earbuds back in.
Nick woke up the man in the blue Adidas T-shirt and asked him if the killer’s cell belonged to him.
The guy stared at the phone for a few seconds, shook his head, and went back to sleep.
Nick checked the rows behind his and found two men and another woman with earphones in their ears and another guy taking a nap. None of them laid claim to the killer’s cell.
2
“Do you know any cops?” Nick asked Holly when he got back to his seat.
“Yes. Why?”
Nick handed the killer’s cell to Holly. “You could ask him to find out who the phone number on that phone belongs to.”
“That’s a good idea.” Holly pulled out her phone and dialed her cop friend’s number.
“Ask him to send you the guy’s picture,” Nick said.
Holly nodded.
“Hi, Jack,” she said into the phone. “This is Holly. Please call me as soon as you get this. I need your help. Thanks.” She hung up.
“Is your friend with the Dallas Police Department?”
“Yes.”
“Is he a detective?”
“No.”
“I hope he calls back before we arrive in Houston.”
“He usually calls back within half an hour.”
Holly looked out the window for a while, then said, “I believe he thinks we saw the pictures. That’s why he didn’t claim his phone.”
Nick nodded.
The phone number on the killer’s cell had a Fort Worth area code. Did he live in Fort Worth? Had he killed all those women in the Fort Worth area? Had he hunted in other parts of Texas? Had he hunted in other states?
Was he on the prowl for another victim now?
Nick opened the Camera folder on the killer’s cell and checked the dates of the photos.
The first and second pictures had been taken last year, on September 12 and November 7, and the other three this year, on February 14, April 2, and May 5.
About a month had passed between the fourth and fifth murders. It had been about a month since the last kill.
The killer might be on a hunting trip. Where was he headed?
What were the murdered women’s names? How had the killer found them?
Nick noted the date of the third photo, February 14, Valentine’s Day. Had the killer deliberately chosen Valentine’s Day to commit that murder? Had the victim been his date?
Nick heard a phone vibrate, and then Holly leaned close to him and whispered, “Someone sent him a text.”
Chapter 5
1
Holly gave Nick the killer’s cell, and he read the message: “What’s your name?”
The number it had been sent from had a 682 area code.
It’s him. The serial killer sent the text. He wants to talk to me.
“I think it’s him,” Nick said. “The serial killer.”
“You think he sent this text to you?”
Nick nodded. “Yes.”
What the hell was the guy up to?
“Should we answer?”
“Yeah. But I’m not giving him my real name.”
Nick sent the killer a text that said: “George,” stuck his head out into the aisle and listened for a beep indicating a text.
A phone beeped somewhere in the rows in front of him. A moment later Nick saw a guy in a green T-shirt in the fifth row on the left side of the bus move his right arm. The man appeared to be in his early thirties and had short dark hair. Was he checking his messages? Was he the killer?
Nick couldn’t see if the guy was holding anything in his hands.
He sent the killer another text asking: “Who are you?” and looked at the guy in the green T-shirt.
He heard no beep this time. The killer must have put his phone on mute.
The guy in the green T-shirt moved his right arm again. Nick stood up, leaned forward, and saw that he had a cell in his left hand.
Was he the killer?
2
Five minutes passed. No reply from the killer.
What was he up to?
His phone was a blockbuster piece of evidence that could land him on death row. He must want it back.
How did he plan to get his phone back? Did he intend to take it by force?
He thinks I have his phone, so I’ll be the one he attacks.
“He may get off the bus in Buffalo.” Nick gave the killer’s cell to Holly.
“Yes.” Holly nodded.
“If he doesn’t like to take chances, he’ll get off in Buffalo.”
And if he does that, the police might never find him.
Holly asked, “Do you have a good memory?”
“I think so.”
“Will you be able to tell if anyone got off in Buffalo?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Nick took out his phone. “I have an idea.”
He opened the camera app, tapped the Record button, and got out of his seat. Holding the phone in landscape mode and pretending to watch a video, Nick walked to the front of the bus, turned around, and headed back, filming the passengers.
Will the killer figure out that I’m filming?
He probably will.
Because Nick was pretending to watch a video and couldn’t maneuver the phone freely, he didn’t expect to get clear shots of the passengers’ faces, but he supposed that partial shots were better than no shots.
The guy in the green T-shirt was reading a paperback as Nick filmed him. That was what the killer might have done to hide his face from the camera, wasn’t it?
When Nick reached the end of the aisle, he got into the restroom to show it was not an aimless walk. He watched the video he had filmed and found that he hadn’t gotten a clear shot of the man in the green T-shirt. The guy wasn’t reading the book as Nick had passed him on the way to the front of the bus.
Did he start reading the book because he saw me filming?
When he returned to his seat, Nick told Holly that he had filmed the passengers and played the video for her.
“Now we don’t have to rely on my memory.” He pocketed his cell. “Did he reply?”
“No.”
“Don’t tell anyone you have the phone. I think he’ll try to take it back.”
“Okay.”
He might try to take my phone, too, because the camera might have caught his face.
“Do you have a gun?” Holly asked.
“No. When we get to Buffalo, stay in the bus. I don’t think he’ll dare to attack you in the bus.”
Holly reached into her bag, brought out a nail file, and held it up. “If
he attacks me, I’ll stab him with this.”
They smiled.
“Do you carry a pepper spray?” Nick asked.
“No.”
Nick checked his watch. 1:23 p.m. They would arrive in Buffalo in about twenty minutes.
Was anyone on this bus headed to Buffalo?
If no one was headed to Buffalo, then whoever got off there must be the killer, right?
It had been about fifteen minutes since Holly had called her cop friend. It would take him at least ten minutes to find out the name of the owner of the phone number on the killer’s cell and obtain his picture.
Hopefully, Holly’s friend would call back before 1:30 p.m.
3
“You’re so smart. What do you do for a living?” Nick thought small talk might ease the tension.
“I work in marketing,” Holly replied. “You?”
“I drive trucks.”
Nick opened the Google Maps app on his phone, looked up Buffalo, Texas, and found that it was two miles away.
It was 1:42 p.m. and Holly’s cop friend still hadn’t called back.
And the killer still hadn’t replied to his text.
“Let’s message him,” Nick said.
Holly pulled out the killer’s phone. “What do you want to say?”
“Ask him who he is and what he wants.”
Holly typed the message and hit Send.
The killer might approach him in Buffalo and try to get his phone back. If he refused to give the cell back to the killer, the guy would either flee or try to kill him.
Nick hoped the killer would approach him, because then he would know what he looked like. He would get off the bus as soon as they arrived in Buffalo.
“Your friend hasn’t called back yet,” Nick said.
“He’s probably busy.”
“Did you call his cellphone?”
“Yes. Let me text him.” Holly sent her cop friend a message saying: “Please call me back ASAP. I need your help.”
They would be able to find out the killer’s identity if he had left his fingerprints on the phone battery and his fingerprints were in the police database.
“Don’t touch his phone battery,” Nick said.
“Why?”
“It might have his fingerprints on it.”