murder of my mother, I have returned to the town of her death against all sane impulses and am constantly looking over my shoulder for a psychotic killer. Add to that a vision of a pool of blood in the workplace and I’d say I’m pretty freaked out already.”
“Someone screaming,” Quinn said, and looked down. “They hear the sound of someone screaming.”
“Jesus,” she said. “Then what I saw…”
“I don’t know,” Quinn said and shook his head.
“It’s too weird to be a coincidence,” she said. “I see a pool of blood near where a lot of people hear screaming. Something happened down there.”
“Maybe,” he said.
“Does the building have a history?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve never looked into it. I hesitate to ask this, but…”
“What?” she said.
“Lord Halloween never killed anyone in that building, did he?”
“No,” Kate replied. “I’ve read every case, believe me. There were three other victims around that area, but no body was ever found there.”
“Then maybe it’s not connected,” he said. “The guy could just be making it up.”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Maybe it’s unconnected, but I want to look into this a little more. I could use some help. You game?”
“What do you need?” he asked.
“Well, I’ve read the public file on Lord Halloween, but I’ve been thinking there has to be more.”
“Technically, the case is shut.”
“No one seriously believes Holober did it,” Kate responded.
“My point is the case file should be all public,” he said.
“Just my gut: I have a feeling some information was held back,” she said. “Maybe there was another victim, someone who could have died in the Chronicle building. Or maybe there’s something else, but we need help.”
“Buzz,” Quinn said. “He’s obsessed with Lord Halloween: always has been. He might be able to help-at least point us in the right direction.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kate said.
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow,” Quinn said.
Philip Jackman stubbed his toe on a tree root and let out a brief cry. If the woman he was watching through her bedroom window noticed, she didn’t show it.
Jackman quietly cursed himself and shook his foot to get rid of the pain. But all the while he kept his eyes on the woman in the window. She was just starting to undress. It was not quite a strip tease, but he felt like she was showing off for him just the same.
Jackman would wait until her light was off and then he might be able to get a closer look. Maybe get up real close to her bedroom window. If he was lucky, he could even find a way in.
He had done that a few times before. He had never gone far-usually something happened like a dog barked or a light came on. But it was just a matter of time before he made it all the way. If at first you don’t succeed…
He wanted to watch her sleeping up close. And when she woke up, maybe she would want to do more than sleep. God knows he wanted more. And if she didn’t…
Jackman caught his breath as the woman stood up and dropped her robe to the floor. From this angle-15 feet from the window-he could almost make out her…
And then he heard a voice behind him.
“So you’re the infamous stalker,” it said.
Philip jumped and whirled around. He grabbed beneath his jacket for his knife. Since he first started these little escapades more than six months ago, he had kept the sharp-edged Kelso knife with him. But he had never needed it before.
“Careful what you pull out there, compadre,” the figure standing before him said.
But Philip didn’t listen. He pulled the knife out and held it in front of him in what he hoped was an intimidating stance.
“Don’t come any closer,” he said. To himself, the voice sounded too high and weak, unsure of itself.
The figure in front of him laughed.
“You sure have a lot of experience with this, don’t you?” he said.
“I’ve killed before,” Philip said, and did his best not to sound nervous.
“Have you? Some little girl you’ve been watching undress through the window, perhaps? No, I doubt you went even that far.”
The figure took a step closer.
“Stay back,” Philip said and he fought down the urge to run. How was this going to end? Was he really going to kill this man? He supposed he had to. The police hadn't caught Philip yet and he had been out spying on people so many times he had lost track. He supposed if he was a murderer he could still escape their clutches.
The figure laughed again.
“You know, it’s funny,” he said. “I’ll bet a lot of people think you are a monster. Someone who watches women in their boudoirs and then grabs himself some. And if they saw you here, waving that knife, they might actually be scared.”
“That’s right, they’d be scared,” Philip said.
“Maybe,” the figure said and his tone sounded almost thoughtful. “Just like most animals are scared of the wolf prowling in the darkness, waiting to prey on the weak. But what if the wolf met a bear? Do you think the bear would be scared?”
“Shut up,” Philip said. “I’ll cut you.”
Philip was working up a plan. He thought just rushing the figure would be too obvious. It seemed better to feint in that direction and then come at him from the side. Or maybe he could still avoid a fight altogether. The guy couldn’t have gotten that good a look at his face.
“I’m the bear, Mr. Stalker-Man,” the figure said. “You might scare some people, but to me you are just more meat.”
Should he move now, Philip wondered? Maybe get him while he was still talking? But he had the uneasy feeling the figure was just waiting for him to do something, like maybe he was goading him.
“And you are a distraction,” the figure said. “I mean, I thought my little trick last week would put me back on the front page, but I have to give the police credit, they actually had a plan and carried it off. Good for them. It just makes things a little more challenging. But I like a challenge. Because killing people is just too damn easy.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Philip asked, feeling even more anxious. This guy wasn’t right. Why wasn’t he calling the police on a cell phone? Or shouting to the houses around him? Was he trying to act crazy? What was he waiting for?
“Just making talk,” the figure said and laughed again.
It made Philip shiver.
“You’ve been in the papers too long,” the figure said. “So I’m going to do you a favor. I'm going to put you in the papers one last time. The obituary column, to be sure, but maybe the police are smarter now. I didn’t think so, but…”
Philip made his move. He tried to feint forward, but halfway through the move, his body seemed to go all the way forward. He just rushed the figure, slicing through the air in front of him and hoping to connect with something.
But then everything went wrong. He felt a fist connect with his face and then his knife was out of his hand. His arm was in blinding pain and Philip went down on the ground still firmly in the man’s grip.
“God, you are pathetic,” the figure said. “The weak preying on the weak. And now it’s time to take you out of business altogether. But I’m a nice guy and since you have been so good in providing copy, I’m going to give you one final treat. That woman you’ve been watching in the window? How about if I introduce you?”
“You’re hurting me,” Philip said. He felt like his arm was broken. His eyes searched the ground for the knife. He had to do something.
