He grinned. He could see it all now. He would be in front of the camera, interviewed by the best. Maybe 60 Minutes, or Dateline. After he explained his mission, they would be in awe of him. Cheering crowds would greet him at every appearance he made. Yes, it was time to finish this job. He knew they would understand, but he had to finish what he’d started. Then he would finally let them in on all of it.
As he rounded the block again, he noticed a van drive by.
Hadn’t that same van driven past before? Was he being followed?
Why would anyone follow him? No one suspected him. Not the great one. He kept strolling, careful not to vary his pace. Out of the corner of his eye he saw an old man on the other side of the street, meandering with his dog in the opposite direction. He was sure the old man was staring at him even though he seemed to be looking straight ahead. Another van drove by. It was a different color, but he knew it was the same van as before. Somehow they had changed its color. He was more than a little nervous now.
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A few feet farther down the sidewalk he heard something that made him gasp. Laughter. Two women were laughing. They were standing near a car and laughing. He knew without any doubt that they were laughing at him. Mocking his presence on this earth. The sound made his ears hurt. He tried to walk faster but the sound kept coming. They were laughing at him because he screwed up again.
Anne was still alive. She was out of surgery now and she was laughing at him. He could picture the whole thing. She was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed laughing. There were nurses all around her, laughing. The doctors were all laughing. His hands automatically went to cover his ears. It didn’t help. He could still hear the laughter. His eyes darted from side to side as he continued down the walk.
Everything was very clear to him. He knew everyone knew, and they were all laughing. The people on the bus. The young man on the motorcycle. The old lady in the Dodge Dart. Some covered it up better than others, but they were all laughing. His mind was racing.
He tried to replay the performance in Anne’s office, thinking it would give him some comfort. It didn’t. As soon as he remembered those two women interrupting him, his face burned with anger. It was their fault that everyone was sneering at him now. It was their fault. He imagined them sitting together laughing at how they ruined everything for him. They were laughing at him, calling him names. He kept walking, but now he was headed back to his car.
He slid into the front seat and quickly shut the door. It was dark outside and he didn’t want the interior light to give him away.
Once inside the laughter wasn’t as loud. He looked in the rearview mirror to check for people behind him.
He continued to look out all the windows and check the mirrors. His gaze darted back and forth. He made sure all the doors were locked. Then he checked again. He could still hear the laughter, but he realized that the people were at least fifty feet away from him. Suddenly he grinned. He had developed extraordinary hearing. Amazing! His mind was so powerful that he could hear people over great distances. His mind was clearer now than it had ever been. The tiny white pills were working. He dug into his pocket and downed a few more.
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He sat in his car for what seemed like an hour, but was by the dashboard clock less than ten minutes. He needed to make sure that no one saw him. When the laughter got too loud, he ducked down in the front seat. After the sound faded, he would peer out the windows again.
During this time he formulated his new plan. First, he needed to silence the laughter of those two bitches who interfered with his last performance. They were the ones who caused him to force his hand. Although he was still very much in control, this had changed the time frame for his proclamation to the world. His teeth began to grind as he thought of those two whores. They must be taught a lesson. How dare they interfere with his grand work? He dug through his briefcase, which he had left in the car. Somewhere in there he kept a list of names and addresses of everyone who worked at Metro, his co-workers. In less than a minute he had located Toni’s address and was driving toward her apartment.
He knew that Toni was with Boggs and Vicky. He also knew there was a guard posted outside her front door. Neither of those things caused him any concern. He’d find a way. He had to. It was his destiny.
He drove past Toni’s apartment. Not too fast and not too slow.
He didn’t want to bring any attention to himself. He saw the police officer sitting in a chair. He also noted that Toni lived in a two-story townhouse. He was pleased with his keen ability to pick up details. He pulled into the parking lot of Hardee’s, just a block away. He surveyed the surroundings for several minutes, making sure no one followed him. The people here weren’t laughing at him. They were amazed by his greatness. He had to be careful. He didn’t want to be mobbed by admiring fans. Not now. He willed them to stay away. He had to close his eyes tightly for several minutes in order to accomplish this, and that was dangerous. When he opened his eyes, it had worked. The people were staying away from him, letting him work. He knew it was hard for them, hard to stay away from greatness, but they obeyed his will.
He got out of his car and went to the trunk. He checked the 212
people again. They were still giving him leeway. He breathed a sigh of relief. From the trunk he retrieved a medium-sized gym bag. He quickly closed the trunk and got back inside his car. He locked the doors. Then he double-checked the locks. He slowly unzipped the bag. Inside there was a dark blue running suit and baseball cap, along with an extra pair of running shoes and several sets of latex gloves. In the bottom of the bag lay a plastic box, the kind normally used to hold fishing tackle. He pulled it out and set the bag on the front seat. This was his emergency kit. It contained everything he thought he might possibly need. He had taken great pains to put it together. Each item was placed lovingly inside. He had even made a list of the contents and glued it inside the lid. He was looking for one item in particular. He began pulling unneeded items from the box and stacking them one by one in the lid. Duct tape. Scissors. Screwdriver. Hammer. Wire. Balsa wood. Molding clay. Superglue. Bobby pins. Clamp. Piece of rubber hose. Rope.
Razor blades. Ballpoint pen. Paper clips.
Finally, at the very bottom of the box, he found what he wanted, a glass cutter, the kind that professional burglars used. A small black suction cup held the glass in place while you cut a cir-cular hole a little larger than a man’s fist. He had “borrowed” this tool from the property room at the police department and practiced using it several times, but this would be the first time he used it in his work. He placed it on the dash of his car and then dili-gently replaced the other items inside the box. He then put the box back inside the gym bag and zipped it shut.
He was almost ready now. He pulled his knife from his pocket.
The feel of the cold steel made him giggle. He pictured everything. He knew it would be perfect. He flipped open his knife to make sure but was instantly horrified. The knife, his beautiful, wonderful knife. There was still blood on it. Those bitches had made him stop in the middle of his work and he hadn’t cleaned his knife. Anger boiled inside him. He was gripping the knife so hard that his knuckles were white. How could they have done that to him? What had he ever done to them? A single tear ran down his 213
cheek. His vision was blurry and he couldn’t think. He continued to grip his knife. Slowly he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tried to rub off the dried blood. It didn’t work. He spit into his handkerchief and rubbed again. Slowly the dried blood disappeared and he began to calm down. He polished the blade until it shone. When he returned the knife to his pocket he was more determined than ever. He started his car and drove to Toni’s apartment.
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CHAPTER 22
The crime scene unit returned to Anne’s office ten minutes after receiving the call from Captain Billings. He’d asked them to fingerprint the closed-off bathroom. Bannon had been suspicious of the Crown murders after the second one. The sc
ene was just too clean for the average Joe to have committed these murders. After sneaking a peek at Crown at his preliminary hearing, he was convinced this guy didn’t have the know-how, but there was little Bannon could do. The phone call from the captain confirmed his worst nightmare—someone else was doing the killing or at least helping Crown. The captain must have thought so too, or he wouldn’t have specifically mentioned looking for fingerprints. The only reason to look for prints would be if they didn’t belong to Crown.
Bannon and his team first photographed the door on Anne’s side of the bathroom and then began dusting for prints. He wasn’t surprised to find some on the door handle. He was extra careful about transferring these prints.
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“No telling how long those’ve been there,” said one of the other technicians.
Bannon nodded. When he was finished, he motioned for his team to proceed inside the bathroom. The door wasn’t locked.
Inside the bathroom it smelled musty. It was obvious it hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. Aside from some paper towels crumpled on the floor in a corner, it looked as though it hadn’t been used in ages.
Bannon headed immediately to the outside door that led out to the hallway. The rest of the team covered the interior which included three stalls and urinals. He was able to recover fingerprints on the door handle, but on the doorframe he hit pay dirt.
There was one print, partially in blood. He couldn’t believe it. He checked the doorknob and found it locked. He mentioned this to his team and then proceeded to the outside hallway via Anne’s office. At this point he didn’t want to unlock the door himself.
Once out in the hall, Bannon took more prints from the door. He packaged all of them and went back into Anne’s office.
“You guys find anything interesting?” he said.
“Nope,” said one of the techs. “Everything in here is covered with a thick layer of dust. Nothing looks like it’s been disturbed for quite a while. You want us to give it the full treatment?” Bannon didn’t even hesitate. “No,” he said. “Let’s just get this back to the lab. I don’t think anything happened in there.” They packed their equipment and headed back to the lab.
Bannon sent the rest of his team home. Since he was handling the prints, there was nothing more they could do. He prepared the prints and scanned them into the computer. Then he typed in Crown’s name for a comparison. As the computer did its job, Bannon called the captain to fill him in.
“You know, Captain,” he cautioned. “These fingerprints could have been there a long time . . . or a week. There’s no way to tell if they were left tonight. The bloody print, though, was definitely our guy.”
“I understand,” replied the captain. “How long before we get a name?”
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“Our first answer just came up,” said Bannon. “They’re not Crown’s.”
There was a moment of silence. Bannon was already typing in the next comparison request. He could hear the captain sigh over the phone.
“Put in a check for everyone who works at Metro,” said the captain. “And Bannon, I don’t want anyone to know the results but me, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Bannon said. “I’m one step ahead of you. The results should be up any second.”
The two men waited in silence as the computer checked the scanned prints against everyone who currently worked at Metro and those who had worked there in the last ten years. That included every secretary, janitor, judge, attorney, investigator and police officer. It didn’t matter if they had worked there twenty years or two weeks, part-time. Everyone had to be fingerprinted to work at Metro. The wait seemed interminable. Finally, a match was found. A perfect match.
“Son of a bitch!” Bannon said. When he told the captain, his response was the same.
“Until we know it’s him for sure,” he instructed, “don’t let this go any further.”
The man pulled into the parking lot of Toni’s apartment. He was very excited. This was a new type of lesson he was about to teach. He checked his knife again. It was perfect. He looked out the windows. No one. He admired his hands. They were the tools of his greatness. He noticed for the first time that he hadn’t changed his clothes from work. He took off his jacket but left on his tie. No, he wasn’t pleased with this look. It wasn’t right. He looked in the backseat and grabbed his lightweight windbreaker.
Then he took off his tie. Perfect. That would give him the right appearance for tonight. It would also conceal his cutter and give him greater mobility than his suit jacket. Satisfied, he checked the windows again. Then his knife. While caressing his knife he felt 217
his small bottle of pills. Grinning, he pulled it from his pocket and shook five into his palm. He checked the windows again before swallowing them. Now he was ready.
He got out of his car and walked toward the apartment. The cool breeze blew against his damp skin. His upper lip was covered with sweat and his eyes continued to dart back and forth. He was smiling when he approached Fred. He wasn’t sure Fred knew who he was, although he thought everyone knew him. Just to be safe, he produced his credentials immediately. Fred looked at them and nodded.
“I just wanted to come by and check on you,” he said. “I know it’s a tough and lonely job. Is there anything I can get for you?
There’s a Hardee’s up the street, maybe a burger or some coffee?”
“No, thanks,” Fred said. “I’m good.”
The man leaned against the building. “I hope we catch the son of a bitch soon,” he said. He was waiting for an opportunity, and he got one.
Fred nodded and pulled a cigarette from his uniform pocket.
The man seized this wonderful opportunity. “I’ve got a light,” he said as he reached into his pocket and stepped toward Fred. The man was on him before Fred could even move. The knife plunged into his chest, and then in his side, and last in his stomach. He had tried to get up from the chair, he tried to reach for his gun, but he wasn’t able to complete either task. He slumped forward and slid down the chair.
The man grinned. Then he giggled. He looked around and saw no one. He was so talented. He paused for a moment to soak in his own greatness. Then he carefully cleaned his wonderful knife and returned it to his pocket. Next he pulled Fred back up on his chair.
It took some doing, but he managed it very well. He was careful to pull Fred from the back so he wouldn’t get any blood on himself.
Once positioned, the man thought Fred looked perfectly normal.
He took Fred’s gun and tossed it in the bushes. He even considered putting a cigarette in his mouth, but decided against it. He didn’t care for cigarettes. The smell upset his stomach.
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His plan was working perfectly, as he knew it would. He walked to the side of the apartment and looked up at Toni’s bedroom window. That was his point of entry. There was a small ledge surrounding the second story. It wasn’t very wide, but it would be big enough to hold him while he cut the glass. Now all he had to do was get up there. He glanced around. He saw someone in the parking lot getting into a car. He concentrated hard. Very hard. The woman didn’t even look over his way. She simply got in her car and left. He smiled. He was still able to will others to stay away.
He saw a drainpipe going up the side of the building. He knew that someone of his talents and capabilities would have no problem climbing it to the ledge. He walked to the drainpipe and touched it. Then he willed it to become his own personal ladder. He giggled to himself. There was absolutely nothing he couldn’t do. Next he checked his knife. He wanted to make sure. Just the feel of it in his pocket thrilled him. He flipped it open and it caught the light from the streetlamp across the road. It was beautiful. He stared at his knife for several minutes. Before returning it to his pocket, he noticed the phone line that ran across the outside wall. As almost an afterthought, he cut the line.
He climbed up the drainpipe with no trouble at all. It would have been difficult for most, but he could do anything
. In a flash he was standing on the ledge. He quickly scooted to the window and peered inside. He seemed to have no trouble balancing himself on the eight-inch ledge. He didn’t even think about it. He could see that there was no one inside the bedroom. He got out his trusty cutter. He didn’t even attempt to open the window. He knew it would be locked. He attached the suction cup and began to cut. It was easy. Too easy. In less than two minutes he had cut out a circle near the lock. He reached inside and slid the single lever to the open position and gently raised the window. He climbed inside and pulled the window back down. He grinned.
He looked around the room and shook his head. The furnish-ings were so common, so bland. His mind took in everything all at once. He was amazed at how he could instantly know everything 219
about this room. He even knew the brand of drywall that was underneath the coats of paint. Again he reveled in his greatness before continuing with his new mission.
Toni, Boggs and Vicky had finished eating. Their conversation had turned from the recent attack on Anne to less stressful topics.
Toni knew the phone would soon ring and Patty would be giving them an update, or the captain would have more information. But for right now, they were all making an effort to keep things light.
The apartment was like a fortress and she felt safe.
She couldn’t stop thinking about who attacked Anne. She tried to remember all she could from her past job as a psychotherapist.
This was a serial killer. He would have to be very intelligent. That would rule out Frank. He was street smart but not what she would consider intelligent. And then there was the killer’s upbringing.
Crown’s evaluation described the perfect home environment to foster a disturbed mind but he didn’t seem to have what it took to kill. But who would Crown follow without question? His father?
No, too old. What about a brother? Possible.
Boggs broke her train of thought. “Anyone need more tea?” she asked as she got up from the couch.
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