“Then I got back just in time.” He breezed past her and took an empty seat
with the detectives. Determined to ignore this new distraction, Nikki took her place
up front.
“An assignment,” said Heat as she surveyed the room. “I need someone out at
Reception to monitor incoming calls so if our serial killer tries me again, he gets
right through.” Her gaze fell on Detective Hinesburg. “Sharon, you’re elected.”
Hinesburg made the face of snippy annoyance. “Fine. Your party.”
“You’re right,” said Nikki, who waited for Hinesburg to saunter off to the
precinct lobby, figuring that if the detective was out of earshot, she couldn’t
learn anything to leak to the paper. Heat addressed the rest of the group. “Before
we begin, has anyone not read this?” She held up her copy of the tabloid.
After a moment of silence Ochoa said, “Want me to ask Detective Hinesburg?”
When the squad’s knowing laughter settled, Heat said, “Yeah, I have a feeling
Sharon’s caught up.” She waited out a few more chuckles then brought them to
business. “Most of you heard my side of the two calls we just got. And you’ve all
got the transcript. Detective Raley also has dubbed an audio copy off our digital
call server. Rales?”
He opened the WAV file on his laptop speakers. At first, Rook and the detectives
started to read along. But as the chilling call continued, enticingly sinister
because of the digitally futzed voice, they all abandoned their hard copies and
leaned forward, staring instead at the computer, as if it were the man himself
instead of the playback device for a killer’s audio bit stream. When it finished,
Detective Raley clicked it off.
Complete silence followed.
Heat broke it by asking, “OK, what did we learn?” She bisected the Maxine
Berkowitz Murder Board with a vertical line and began a brainstorm list in the open
white space.
“It’s him,” said Detective Feller. “He worked in the hold-backs that didn’t get
leaked: the skate reference and the rat in the maze thing? It’s him.”
“For now, let’s say so,” Heat agreed, and saw bobble-heads.
“Tech-savvy,” said Detective Reynolds. “Not everyone out there knows how to alter
his voiceprint like that.”
Rook couldn’t resist. “There’s an app for that?”
“Raley,” said Heat. “As my King of All Surveillance Media, find out if there is.
” Rales nodded and made a note. “What else?”
“Dude’s controlling,” called out Ochoa.
Heat said, “No kidding,” and wrote the trait on the board. “The way he hung up on
the first call to let me know who’s boss.”
“And the second call,” added Rook. “It was all about making his points his way,
in his own time, like a billiard champ running the table.”
Detective Rhymer said, “I’d put smart up there, too.” As Nikki posted that, he
continued, “He knew exactly how long to stay on the call to beat the trace, and he
also knew how to push your buttons, talking about case frustration…”
“… Calling you a cover girl,” said Reynolds. Nikki’s eyes went to Rook’s and
then away.
“I think this guy’s beyond smart and controlling,” said Malcolm. “I say he’s
pissed. Check it out.” He skim-read from the transcript, “ ‘Do not fuck with me.
’… ‘I’m going to talk, and you’re going to listen.’… ‘Think you’re so
smart, Detective Heat?’ ”
“That’s not just pissed,” said Raley.
“That’s competitive,” finished his partner. “Talking about making it a contest,
and maybe ‘helping you’ with the next one.”
“That’s the biggest clue of all,” said Heat. “And the worst.” She didn’t have
to voice it. The caller already had—that there would be a next one.
Later that morning, Roach came to Nikki’s desk. “Rook was right,” said Detective
Ochoa.