“Compared to Jenny, Bonnie is a font of knowledge about the afterlife. Besides, I tried to reach her last night, but I got zilch. She told me that she was fading in and out with both me and Walsh.” She shrugged as she released his hand. “So it’s up to us to work it out for ourselves. What did you find out from the detectives at the precinct?”
“Not much. They had Walsh under surveillance for nearly two years at the request of Interpol before he moved out of Sacramento. But they came up with nothing.”
“Nothing?” Eve frowned. “He killed Jenny, and from what she said, he liked it and had done it before. He wouldn’t have just taken a two-year break. Serial killers can’t resist the surge of power they get from the kill, he wouldn’t have been able to resist it.”
“Unless he isn’t the usual serial killer,” Joe said slowly. “Unless he has an enormous amount of control and the ability to channel and focus.”
“Focus on what?”
“The final goal. Maybe he was keeping an eye on Jenny’s grave while he searched for another target. Remember, he stuck around for years near the place where he killed Jenny. You would have thought that he would have moved on and not taken the risk. What was so important that he was willing to do that?”
“And he wasn’t only a murderer. You told me he was involved in all kinds of ugliness, from thefts to human trafficking. Surely the police picked up on some of those?”
“Not here in Sacramento. He lived in a palatial apartment on the south side with no obvious source of income. He told his landlord he had private means.”
“From previous criminal activity, no doubt,” Eve said grimly.
“It’s one explanation.” He paused. “There are others. Maybe … blackmail … Or it’s possible Walsh was still on someone’s payroll.”
“Doing what?”
“We’d have to find out. But he didn’t set up here in Sacramento until after Jenny’s killing. Before that, the last report was that he was working for that cartel in Mexico City. It would be logical to assume that his presence here could have something to do with the murder.”
“No charges brought against him during that entire period?”
“Nothing significant. A complaint of possible trespassing from the owner of a photography studio. But the charges were dropped when no theft was found to have taken place.”
“A photography studio?”
“Memory Lane Studios. It’s a small outfit near Sutter Elementary School.”
She tensed. “Elementary school? Maybe he wasn’t interested in that photography studio as much as the kids at that school. Was there any report of—”
Joe was shaking his head. “No. There were no stalkings nor any reported attacks on any of the children.”
“Then there had to be something he wanted from that studio.” She got to her feet. “Let’s go see if we can find out what it was.”
He smiled. “I’ve already called Nick Dalkow, who owns the studio, and told him we’d be on our way.”
CHAPTER
8
“I haven’t got much time,” Nick Dalkow said impatiently, as they walked through the door of his shop. “I have to be across town in twenty minutes to photograph a high-school football team.”
Dalkow didn’t look much more than a high-school student himself, Eve thought. He was small, thin, with wild red hair that was spiked with mousse. He was dressed in jeans and an orange T-shirt. His left earlobe sported a tiny rhinestone earring. “I believe we can meet your schedule. It shouldn’t take long.” She glanced around the studio. A few landscapes, but most of the photos were portraits of children and teenagers. “You do very good work.”
“You bet I do. But you’re not here to hire me, are you?” He glanced at Joe. “You want to know about that creep who came here and wasted my time.” He scowled. “Just like you’re doing.”
“You’re talking about Walsh? How did he waste your time?”
“He came in here and wanted to see examples of my work. He said that he was thinking of opening a studio of his own and might want to hire me part-time. He looked at everything in sight. Then he asked me to pull out examples of past work.” His lips curled. “He was lying. He didn’t know anything about photography.”