Blood Men: A Thriller

“No you’re not. You’re killing her. Look, we have some names, we’re banging on some doors right now. We’re going to find her.”


“You can guarantee that?”

“I can guarantee we’re doing our best.”

“What about the person who visited Roger Harwick in jail?”

“Who?”

“Somebody had to visit Harwick before my dad got stabbed, right? Somebody from the outside.”

“It’s a good thought,” he says, “except nobody came to see Harwick today, or yesterday. In fact nobody has been to see him since the bank robbery.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I say. “Somebody had to talk to him.”

“And somebody did. It means another inmate was visited and got told to pass the message along.”

“Who?”

“We’re looking into it. Problem is there are so many opportunities for Harwick to interact with another inmate. Could be there were other links in the chain. Somebody comes to see Inmate A, who speaks to Inmate B, who talks to Inmate C. Or maybe one of the guards organized it.”

“So it’s a dead end,” I say.

“I’m doing what I can, Eddie.”

“It’s just never enough.”

“Where are you?”

“I have to go.”

“What did you find? Another name? An address? Edward, listen to me, if you know where your daughter is, you have to let me help you.”

“I don’t know where she is. Not yet.”

“You’re armed and running around the city, Edward. The word has come in—you’re a threat. A Armed Offenders Unit unit is coming for you. They see you with that shotgun, they’re going to open fire. There won’t be any dialogue. You hear what I’m saying?”

“I hear it,” I say, and hang up, then I try calling Nat but the phone just rings and rings.

What I need is transport and somewhere to read over the files. I find somewhere secure to hide the shotgun before heading back onto the road to flag down a taxi. The first three go by, passengers already inside them; the fourth pulls over, the driver sees the blood on my leg, shakes his head, and drives off. Another taxi pulls up a few minutes later, and this time I keep the gym bag covering my leg. The blood on my shirt from where I wore it over my foot is all on the back, so the driver doesn’t notice it. He just seems to be happy that I’m not carrying a shotgun, but struggles to express his gratitude in clear English. I tell him to take me back toward town, which doesn’t please him because he was hoping for a bigger fare. There are a dozen patrol cars circling the streets, but their search patterns don’t extend to taxis. They’re out there dressed in black, carrying assault weapons and itching to take down Eddie the Hunter, the man they always knew would turn into a killer.





chapter forty-eight


There is blood leading from the kicked-in door to the elevators. It’s how Hunter fooled the first two cops on the scene into thinking he’d gone upstairs. With all the mistakes Hunter has been making, Schroder knows there’s at least something in that mind of his that’s working. He wonders if he’d be doing the same thing if it was his daughter who’d been taken, and decides that he would. He’d do what it takes—which makes it hard to know the Armed Offenders Unit is out there gunning for Hunter, ready to take him down.

Schroder has never had any reason to come down to the probation offices before, and he knows there’s every chance after tonight he’ll never come here again. The building is fairly nondescript and the offices inside about as impersonal as you can get, with rubber plants either side of the reception desk and a sunset picture hanging on the wall the only signs of excitement. He imagines it’d be hard to work in a place like this, getting to know people on a return basis as they’re released every few years for the same crimes, addictions to drugs, taking other people’s money, taking other people’s lives, all in endless circles. At least, being a cop, your job is to put criminals away; these guys have to reintroduce criminals into the outside world, over and over and over again.

It’s too early to tell if Edward had time to find anything here. After talking to him he got the impression Hunter was still winging it with no idea where to go next. That made him dangerous.

The IT woman, Geri Shepard, is currently going through Bracken’s computer. Shepard—in her late twenties and with a body other women would kill for—is about as put out by being here as she is attractive.

“This couldn’t wait?” she asks for the third time already. “You’re real sure on that?”

“You found anything yet?” Schroder asks.

“Possibly. See here? We’ve got a list of files he accessed going back as far as you want. I still don’t see why you can’t tell me what you think Austin has done—it might make me be able to speed things up.”

“Search for Shane Kingsly,” he says, ignoring her. “When did Bracken access that file?”