them the control centre. There was a bank of nine screens. Ali flicked a row of switches on the console and the monitors flickered into life.
‘As requested, Detective Harper, we’ve got seven mobile CCTV units covering the streets. At the moment, they’re focusing on the store entrances. Each unit can be contacted here. Just press the button and let them know what you want. They can trace individuals, zoom, or move location.’
‘That’s great, Ali, thanks.’
‘Well, I hope you find something. This is a bad one. We all want to see him taken down.’
Ali took his seat at the far end of the truck and took out a newspaper. Harper and Kasper looked at him. ‘It’s all about waiting, guys. This could be a long haul.’
A quiet rap on the door preceded the entrance of Captain Lafayette. He huffed his bulk up into the van. ‘You move quickly, Harper. I just hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘We’re watching, that’s all. If he comes we’ll see him, if he doesn’t, we won’t.’
‘It’s Zen policing, Captain,’ said Eddie. ‘Harper ’s got this new world philosophy and we’re gonna really try to pick up any negative karma.’
‘Does he never get tired?’ said Lafayette to Harper.
‘Not yet, he hasn’t.’
‘We should get us some orange robes, Captain. Imagine the NYPD patrolling like that, offering blessing and talking youngsters out of crime. You think City Hall would go for it?’
‘You know, Kasper, the problem is, I think they might.’
Harper laughed, then looked up at Lafayette. ‘No kills yesterday? Looks like the extra patrols worked.’
‘Sure, they worked on the Upper East Side.’
‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning, we took a lot of men out of East Harlem. We found a body this morning. Some poor hooker by the look of her. You plug one hole and another opens up somewhere else.’
‘No one told me.’
‘This isn’t one of yours.’
‘How was she killed?’
‘We only just got the call. She was found in a dumpster.’
‘I should take a look. Maybe he got put off the Upper East Side by the extra cops and headed north.’
‘You just sit tight down here. If there’s anything to report, you’ll know about it.’ Lafayette patted Harper’s shoulder, said his goodbyes and headed back to the precinct.
‘What do you think, Eddie?’ said Harper, staring at the feeds from the CCTV.
‘About the homicide? Not his style, dumping a hooker.’
‘Just the right day, that’s what’s bugging me. No kills on the Upper East Side. Maybe he couldn’t get to his target. Maybe he wandered uptown feeling hungry.’
‘It’s possible. Anything’s possible.’
‘I don’t know.’ Harper took out his cell phone and called Denise Levene. ‘Guess who?’
‘I should be on your payroll, Harper,’ said Denise.
‘Listen, last night there was a kill up in East Harlem.’
‘He’s struck again?’
‘We don’t think so. I just heard about it, but it looks like a prostitute was murdered. Look, Denise, is there any way a guy like this could change victim type?’
‘Difficult to say. We don’t know this guy’s capabilities. He killed Williamson. He might have killed before. I can’t say. Tell me more about it.’
‘Got nothing more. Just a body in a dumpster.’
‘It’s your call, Harper. I can’t be certain.’
‘I want to take a look,’ said Harper. ‘Can you get up to Madison?’
‘Sure. I’ll be thirty minutes.’
Harper hung up and turned to Eddie. ‘I’m going to shoot up to the crime scene. You hold the fort here.’
‘No problem. Watching TV is my specialist area.’
Tom waited outside the van. The sidewalks bustled with shoppers jostling for space in their thick coats. It was almost impossible for the Blue Team to keep an eye on everyone and Harper hoped the stakeout wasn’t going to be an expensive waste of time.
Denise Levene pulled up twenty-five minutes after the call. She’d been working up a profile of the killer and was keen to share it with Harper. As a starting point, she had reduced the profile to seven characteristics. She could’ve given more detail but Harper had insisted that the only words he could share with the team had to be as hard as facts.
Harper was getting bustled around the crowds of rich shoppers as he headed for her car. Blue Team was just up and running at LaGuardia and Madison and the cops weren’t yet feeling the cold. But they would soon, after working all through Thanksgiving and spending hour after hour standing on the street in the ice staring at Christmas presents they couldn’t afford.
They transferred to Harper’s Buick and drove back up through the forgotten streets of Harlem. Harper was going over the case in his mind and feeling the adrenalin kick of anticipation.
‘You said you know a thing or two about this killer. Why don’t you take me through it,’ he said.
‘Okay, but I can do without the cynicism. This is my first attempt.’
‘I know you’re a rookie, that’s why I trust you. You don’t know what it feels like to be wrong yet.’
‘Well, that’s a vote of confidence I could do without.’
‘Hey, look,’ said Harper, ‘I’ve not been suspended once since I started your treatment.’
‘Yeah, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that we’re doing a lot of case work and nothing on you.’
‘I’m healed. You work quick. Take it as a compliment.’
‘Yeah, well, don’t compliment me, just listen to me. I think I’ve got seven incontrovertible facts about the killer. You want to hear them?’
‘Sure, go ahead.’
‘He’s white, mid-thirties, married, high school educated, self-controlled, and works in a sales or marketing job with some background in police or military work.’
Harper listened to the brief summary and then nodded. ‘I hope you’re right. I’ll share it with the team.’
‘You don’t want to ask questions?’
‘I figured this guy had a stable background, or at least something that appears stable on the surface. If not, he would’ve been found out years ago.’ He turned to her. ‘How are you feeling about this?’
‘More curious than scared, I think,’ said Levene.
‘Well, just hang back. A corpse can hang on your retina for a long time. Some stay for years.’
‘Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks for the warning.’
They arrived at the near-deserted street in East Harlem and got out of the car, seeing the first officer slowly tying off a parking lot and talking into his shortwave. It was a quiet crime scene, with no traffic around — just a dirty street of unused warehouses and old abandoned shops. They could hear the pervasive roar of traffic and the echoing shouts of distant arguments, but here it was still and silent. There were a couple of detectives on the scene and a single crime scene officer.
‘What’s the story?’ asked Harper as he approached the detectives.
‘Nothing, yet. Precinct got a call about a body in a municipal dumpster, so we showed up.’
‘Who called?’
‘No name. Just gave us the location. Patrol came by about two hours ago, had a look and called us in. Might be a gangbanger, a shooting or some crack whore sleeping off her debts for the rest of eternity. Who knows?’
Tom took a look around. This was a real quiet one. Someone getting rid of a body quickly. No showmanship, wealth or extravagance like they’d been dealing with on the Upper East Side. This body was hidden. It wasn’t the American Devil’s style at all.
Denise leaned forward. ‘What’s your feeling, Tom?’
Tom shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. ‘It’s nothing like the others. The killer always left the naked body visible. He likes to show, to shock. This is off his track, too. I don’t know. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with him. Just another sad life coming to an end.’
