“Careful, Sam. You don’t want to aggravate the wound,” Nash said, concerned.
“That bastard knew exactly how to stick me. It only took seven stitches to close back up. Hurts like a son of a bitch, though.”
“If he wanted to kill you, he would have. He just wanted to slow you down,” Kloz said.
Porter shifted his weight again. “I should have taken one of you with me. I’ve had a tough time with this, and I don’t know what I’m comfortable talking about yet. I guess taking the kid with me to the Fifty-First was an easy way out.”
Clair took his hand. “We’re all family, Sam. You can talk to any one of us or none of us. Just know that we’re all there for you when you’re ready.”
Porter said, “They caught him, the guy who shot her. They busted him on another burglary, and the cashier from the market ID’ed him. It’s over.”
Clair squeezed his hand. “We figured you went down there for something like that. If there’s anything you need, just ask. Okay?”
Porter agreed. “Let’s get back on track and go over what we know.”
“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Nash asked.
“I’m still a little groggy from the anesthetic, and they’ve got me on some wonderful painkillers. I guess that dumbs me down to your level, and you seem to function okay.”
“Smart enough to not get stabbed.”
Porter waved him off. “Clair, think you can run the board from here?”
She nodded and held up her phone. “I’ve got everything on here.” She clicked away for a moment and brought up her notepad app. “All right, our man in the morgue is not the Four Monkey Killer. Instead, we’ve got the elusive Anson Bishop.” She turned to Kloz. “I want you to get back to the station and dig up anything and everything you can on him. Particularly his movements through the city. We might get lucky and find Emory based on his cell phone GPS data. I’ll get a warrant.”
“He probably used a throwaway,” Kloz pointed out.
“Maybe, maybe not. He didn’t expect us to figure out who he was, at least not yet. You may want to dig into the Paul Watson identity as well. There could be something there.”
“We need to check the log,” Porter said.
Clair frowned. “What log?”
“We had to sign in at the Fifty-First. That means he wrote down a contact phone number and address.”
Nash pulled out his own phone and began to dial. “On it.”
Clair went on. “We know Bishop planted the shoes on Kittner. He wanted him to die in those shoes so we’d trace them back to Talbot. That means every other item he had on his person is a potential clue.”
“Some change, a dry cleaner receipt, a fedora, the pocket watch . . . what does it all mean?”
“Puzzle it out,” Porter muttered.
“What?”
Porter shook his head. “It’s just a phrase he used a few times in the diary. Can you hand it to me? It was in my pants pocket when they brought me in.”
Clair scanned the room and spotted Porter’s possessions in a sealed plastic bag on a shelf in the closet to the right of the bathroom. She retrieved the diary and handed it to him.
“Since I’m stuck here, I’ll finish this up. I don’t have much left to go.”
Nash disconnected his call and returned to Porter’s bedside. “He wrote down an address on LaSalle—not Kittner’s address, this is someplace new: Berwyn Apartments.”
“Okay, that’s got to mean something. Get Espinosa to meet you and Clair out there,” Porter said.
“What do you think his endgame is?” Nash asked. “We’ve got a lot of information on Talbot, but nothing damning enough for hard charges. I’m guessing that means Bishop isn’t done yet. We’re still missing something.”
“Talbot needs Emory alive in order to complete his waterfront project,” Clair said.
“How so?” Porter asked.
She told him about their interview with Talbot.
“That doesn’t mean Bishop needs her alive,” Nash countered. “If anything, he may kill her just to take down the project.”
Porter thought about this for a minute. “I agree with Nash. 4MK always kills the loved one of the person committing the crime. I don’t think he gives a rat’s ass about Emory as long as he can bring Talbot down. My guess is he left my place and went straight to wherever he’s been holding her. He wants to finish this. In his eyes, I think everything ends with her.”
* * *
Evidence Board
4MK = PAUL WATSON = ANSON BISHOP
Victims
1. Calli Tremell, 20, March 15, 2009
2. Elle Borton, 23, April 2, 2010
3. Missy Lumax, 18, June 24, 2011
4. Susan Devoro, 26, May 3, 2012
5. Barbara McInley, 17, April 18, 2013 (only blonde)
6. Allison Crammer, 19, November 9, 2013
7. Jodi Blumington, 22, May 13, 2014
Emory Connors, 15, November 3, 2014
Left for a jog, 6:03 p.m. yesterday
TYLER MATHERS
Emory’s boyfriend—nephew to—
JACOB KITTNER—man hit by bus
ARTHUR TALBOT
Finances?
Body found in Mulifax Publications Building (owned by Talbot) identified as Gunther Herbert, CFO Talbot Enterprises
Something fishy with the Moorings Development (owned by Talbot)
Emory owns land/Moorings Development
N. BURROW
Housekeeper? Nanny?—A little of both Tutor
ITEMS FOUND ON 4MK—KITTNER’S
Expensive shoes—John Lobb/$1500 pair—size 11/UNSUB wears size 9— have Talbot’s prints on them
Cheap suit
Fedora
.75 in change (two quarters, two dimes, and a nickel)
Pocket watch
Dry cleaner receipt (ticket 54873)—Kloz is narrowing down stores
Dying of stomach cancer—meds: octreotide, trastuzumab, oxycodone, lorazepam
Tattoo, right inner wrist, fresh—figure eight, infinity?
Calc book—left by 4MK—leads to—
MULIFAX PUBLICATIONS WAREHOUSE
Partial print found on railcar at tunnel mouth. Probably used to transport the body. Print = Watson/Bishop/4MK
Ear, eyes, and tongue left in boxes (Gunther Herbert)—brochure on body AND boxes lead to—
THE MOORINGS LAKESIDE DEVELOPMENT
Extensive search—nothing found
Video footage—Appears 4MK committed suicide, no clear visual on face
Assignments:
Clair and Nash to go to address on LaSalle (4MK/Bishop’s apartment)
Kloz, research Watson/Bishop/4MK
Porter, finish diary
* * *
64
Emory
Day 2 ? 4:18 p.m.
Emory’s world went silent.
A silence so deafening it tore at the space behind her eyes with a red heat, rushing through her good ear and into her brain, then out the other side with the ferocity of boiling oil. She pressed at the side of her head with her free hand and cursed the one that was bound.
Why wasn’t this nightmare over?