background.
'You're out of luck, friend. We had him up until 1991, then his licence expired. Wait a minute, there's an entry here - the Missouri DMV requested a citation report on him in November '91. He probably applied for a commercial driver's licence. He was clean up here.'
'Good, I'll try Missouri. Thanks, Sergeant. You've been a big help.'
'Anytime.'
Hartford hung up. He dialled another number.
'Illinois Department of Motor Vehicles, Officer Anderson. How may I help you?'
'Hi, Anderson, this is Detective John Standish, Chicago PD.'
'Morning, Standish, what's the problem?'
'We've got an old warrant here, the statute's about to run out. Woman named Linda Gellerman, white, female, twenty-six. We got a tip she's back in Illinois. Run it through your computer, will you, see if she pops up.'
'Gellerman? Two ll's?'
'Right.'
Another pause, then: 'Yeah. Linda Gellerman… married two years ago and had the licence reissued in her married name. That's Linda Balfour, 102 Popular Street, Gideon, Illinois.'
'Hey, that was easy. I may take the rest of the day off.'
Anderson laughed. 'I should be so lucky.'
'Thanks, brother. Come see us.'
'Yes, sir. S'long.'
Hartford hung up and returned to Vail's office. He snapped his fingers as he entered and sat back down on the floor.
'It's an old trick. Used to take down the licence numbers of Ku Klux Klanners, find out who they were, and call 'em on the phone, tell him we were FBI and they better keep their noses clean,' Hartford said. 'Put the sweats on 'em for a while.'
'Stampler could have done it from Daisyland if he had access to a phone,' said Flaherty.
'He doesn't have access to a phone,' Vail said.
'How about the repair shop?'
'No phone line.'
'The killer coulda done it,' St Claire said.
'I got the chills when he talked about Linda Gellerman,' Parver said. 'Two years ago she thought she had her whole life ahead of her.'
'She did,' Naomi said. 'She just didn't know how short it was going to be.'
'You think he's been faking all along, Marty?' Flaherty asked.
'What do you believe, Abel?' Vail asked the stoic detective.
'I don't believe there was ever a Roy, never have. I believe Raymond Vulpes is a myth. Stampler was and is a clever, cold-blooded, psychopathic killer.'
'Could you be a little more explicit?' Venable said with a smile. The group broke into nervous laughter, relieving the tension that had been building in the room.
'Hellacious trick, and I'd hate to prove it in court, but I agree with Abel,' said Vail. 'I think he's been pulling everyone's chain for the last ten years.'
St Claire said, 'Everything that son-bitch does sends a message to us.'
'Including his name - the Fox,' said Hartford scornfully.
'Well, the new message is 'Catch me if you can',' Vail said solemnly. 'Because tomorrow morning Raymond Vulpes will be leaving Daisyland for six weeks. And he's coming here. Abel, I want two men on the Fox - around the clock - not too close, but close enough to videotape him. Let's see who he talks to, who he contacts, where he goes.'
'That's kinda flirtin' with harassment, ain't it?' St Claire asked casually, spitting into his baby cup.
'No,' said Vail, just as casually. 'Harassment is if we drag him into an alley and beat the living shit out of him.'
