The Night Stalker

Scott shook his head. ‘Not exactly, but it’ll be a few weeks.’

Hunter’s eyes roamed the building’s entry lobby and settled on the security camera in the far-left corner.

‘How many CCTV cameras are there in the building?’ he asked.

‘Four,’ Scott said. ‘One just outside the main entrance, that one here in the lobby.’ He pointed to the camera Hunter had spotted. ‘One on the entrance to the underground garage, and one inside the elevator.’

‘And how long do you keep your CCTV footage?’

‘For a month. Everything is stored into a hard drive.’

‘We’re gonna need copies of everything, going back to the day you last saw Miss Black.’

‘Sure, that’s not a prob. .’ Scott hesitated for an instant.

‘Something wrong?’

‘Well, four days ago we had a fuse box overload and all the cameras went down for a few hours in the middle of the night. And if I remember correctly, it happened on the day Mark left on tour.’

Hunter remembered what Myers had told him about the CCTV cameras in Katia Kudrov’s apartment building in West Hollywood. They had all conveniently gone down the night she disappeared. A fuse box overload.

‘We’ll need copies of whatever you have.’

‘Sure.’

‘How about any visitors?’ Garcia asked. ‘Do you remember anyone calling in on or around the day you last saw Miss Black? Maybe delivering something, a workman checking something. . Any reason to go up to their apartment?’

‘Mark and Jessica didn’t really have people over. They preferred to go out, which they did a lot. Anyway, every visitor, service or delivery has to go through the front desk and details are always taken down.’ He checked the computer log. There was nothing.

‘Did you notice anyone suspicious hanging around the building on the days prior to Mark leaving on tour?’ Garcia asked.

Scott laughed. ‘Other than Mark and Jessica we have two up-and-coming Hollywood actresses, one rock singer, one rapper, one TV presenter and two radio DJs living here. There are always strange and eager people around just waiting to get a glimpse of their idols, or an autograph or photo.’

Hunter took down the name of the concierge on duty the night the cameras went down — Francisco Gonzales. He’d be on duty again later that evening.

As they got back to the car, Hunter tried Mark’s cell phone again. Still voicemail. He needed to get in touch with Mark as soon as possible. He needed access to their apartment. He called Operations and asked them to get back to him with Dust’s manager’s name, office and cell phone number. While they were at it, he asked them to get Jessica’s manager’s details as well.

Hunter disconnected and ten seconds later his cell phone rang.

‘Talk about fast response,’ Garcia joked.

‘Detective Hunter,’ he said, bringing the phone to his ear. He listened for a moment. ‘You’re kidding me. When?. . Where is he?. . OK, we’re on our way.’

‘What’s going on?’ Garcia asked as soon as Hunter closed his phone.

‘James Smith has been arrested.’

Eighty-One

James Smith was sitting alone inside interrogation room number two on the second floor of Parker Center. His hands were cuffed together, and he had them resting on the metal table in front of him. His fingers were picking at each other, anxiously. His eyes were fixed on the far wall, as if watching some invisible movie being played on a screen only he could see.

Hunter, Garcia and Captain Blake were regarding Smith from the other side of the two-way mirror in the adjacent observation room. Hunter paid particular attention to his eyes and facial movements.

‘He’s not our guy,’ Hunter said in a steady voice. He kept his arms folded over his chest.

‘What?’ Captain Blake blurted out with annoyance. ‘This is the first concrete lead we’ve managed to follow through since we found the first victim. Since Jonathan died in that autopsy room seven days ago for no reason. You haven’t even spoken to him yet.’

‘I don’t have to. He’s not our killer.’

‘And you know that how?’ Her hands moved to her hips. ‘Or you gonna tell me that together with your lip- reading ability you’re also psychic?’

‘Do you know where he was arrested, Captain?’

She glanced at Garcia, who gave a tiny shrug.

‘I haven’t looked at the arrest report yet. Why?’

‘Lakewood,’ Hunter said. ‘He was arrested in Lakewood.’

‘OK, and. .?’

‘Around the corner from Laura Mitchell’s apartment.’

‘Your point is. .?’

‘He was arrested because I told Operations to send two teams of plain clothes officers to stake out her place.’

The captain frowned. ‘When did you do that?’

‘After I talked to him on the phone.’

‘You knew he’d go back to her place?’

‘I suspected he’d observe it.’

‘Observe it? Why?’

‘Because his mind refuses to believe something has happened to Laura Mitchell. He needed to check it out for himself.’

The captain’s stare returned to Garcia for a moment before moving back to Hunter. ‘You better start making sense, Robert. And right now is a good time.’

Hunter finally turned and faced Captain Blake. ‘When we spoke on the phone, he thought I was a detective with the fraud squad.’

‘Fraud squad? Why?’

‘Because that’s his crime, Captain — impersonating. We all know James Smith isn’t his real name. Nevertheless, he’s managed to obtain a driver’s license, an ID card, a library card, maybe even a passport, all under a false identity. That can get him one to five years inside. But as he said on the phone to me, that’s not enough to trigger a major investigation. That’s why he couldn’t understand why his photo had hit the papers. Why we were after him. When he found out I was with the Homicide Division, he hesitated for a moment, then there was a distinct change in his voice.’

‘Like what?’

‘Trepidation. . fear, but not for himself, or of being caught.’

The captain looked lost.

‘The reason why he hesitated was because at first he couldn’t figure out why Homicide would be after him. But as we all know, he’s far from stupid. He quickly realized that it must’ve been something linked to his obsession.’

‘Laura Mitchell,’ Garcia said, comprehending.

Hunter nodded. ‘We know that they exchanged phone numbers at the exhibition. We checked Laura’s cell phone records. Just a couple of days before the presumed timeframe of her disappearance, she received a call from a payphone in Bellflower.’

‘That’s the next neighborhood along from Norwalk,’ the captain said. ‘Smith’s apartment is in Norwalk, right?’

Hunter and Garcia nodded.

‘Only one call?’