much good to anyone then.”
“Why are you so obsessed with him anyway?” Quinn asked.
“Who wouldn’t be?” Buzz asked. He looked around him. “He is ruthless, inventive, creative and intelligent. If you don’t study up on him, he might catch you napping.”
“I’ve done my research,” Quinn said.
“Have you really?” Buzz asked. “Then I’m surprised you didn’t mention his name.”
“It wasn’t me, it was Kyle,” Quinn said. “He wrote most of it. I even suggested putting the nickname in there, but he thought it was too ‘provocative.’ This from a guy who thinks wrestling is high art.”
“Yes, well, as I said, he has ways of making his point known,” Buzz said.
“I know, like mailing a head to Sheriff Brown,” Quinn said. “I’ll be careful.”
“You’ll be dead,” Buzz said.
Buzz started to walk away before Quinn remembered. He burst out laughing and Buzz looked confused and then angry.
“No, Buzz,” Quinn said. “It’s a line from Star Wars, remember? Luke says, ‘I’ll be careful’ to some dude in the bar and then the guy says, ‘You’ll be dead.’”
“It’s not funny, Quinn,” Buzz said. “It isn’t like he hasn’t targeted reporters before-ones just as talented as you.”
“Hold up a second,” Quinn said. “What reporter did he target?”
But Buzz was starting to walk away in disgust. When Quinn caught up with him, he wheeled around.
“Everyone likes to make fun of me,” Buzz said. “You say I’m paranoid. And I am. But did you ever think I have reason to be? Tim was just a young reporter when he started here, but he was amazingly talented. I was a little envious, actually.”
“Tim?”
“Anderson,” Buzz said. “He came in just like you. Left college, wanted to write. Worked on the sports desk for two years and started doing general assignments. About a year before Lord Halloween showed up, Laurence moved him to the crime beat. And he was great at it.”
Quinn wasn’t laughing anymore.
“What happened?”
Buzz paused. He had a far away look on his face as if he wasn’t just remembering being back in 1994, but he was actually there.
“He started getting letters,” Buzz said. “I’m not sure when. It could have even been before the first murder.”
“What did they say?”
“I don’t know,” Buzz said. “Nobody here knows but Laurence and Ethan. Tim only ever shared them with those two.”
“But they were from Lord Halloween?”
“Oh yes,” Buzz said. “Most definitely.”
“Do you know anything about what they contained?”
Buzz shook his head.
“Don’t you think I wanted to know?” he asked. “I tried everything I could to get a copy, or see if Tim would talk. But the letters were promptly handed over to police. Ethan said we could never publish them.”
Quinn got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Lord Halloween didn’t approve?”
“No, he didn’t,” Buzz said. “I know that…”
His voice trailed off. He was staring into space.
“You know that what?”
“Tim begged to publish those letters, Quinn,” Buzz said. “I don’t mean he asked, I mean he literally begged. Laurence and he had giant fights about it, but…”
“Laurence just did what Ethan wanted.”
“Same as it ever was,” Buzz said, and nodded.
“What happened to Tim?”
“I really don’t know,” Buzz said. “One day he just didn’t show up for work. You won’t find him on any official list of Lord Halloween’s victims. But I know he’s dead.”
“Why? Maybe he just freaked and ran away?”
“You couldn’t keep a guy like him away from writing,” Buzz said. “He was born to do it, just as you were. He had a great beat and was a star reporter. He wouldn’t have left.”
“Sometimes people do funny things when their life is on the line,” Quinn said.
“He angered Lord Halloween,” Buzz said. “Then he disappeared. You tell me what is more likely. That is one killer with a lot of follow through.”
Quinn thought of the blood in the basement, the reports of a ghost in the building. Maybe Lord Halloween killed Anderson here and hid the body? He shivered at the thought of someone lying down in the press room, screaming for help. But if the press was running, there would have been no one to hear. He could have died surrounded by people that might have helped him, but just couldn’t hear him.
“I need those letters,” Quinn said. “If Lord Halloween is back, I need to know more about him.”
Buzz looked at him.
“The police have all of them,” he said. “Technically.”
“What do you mean, technically?”
Buzz looked around the office. There was still no one around. He leaned into Quinn’s face.
“I think Laurence kept copies,” Buzz said. “I don’t know for sure, but I saw him copy one of them late at night. Ethan would not have approved. But he doesn’t keep them in his office.”
“How do you know?” Quinn asked.
Buzz smiled and shrugged.
“You broke in, didn’t you?” Quinn asked.
Buzz shrugged again.
“Still, if he copied one…”
“There’s a good bet he copied others,” Buzz said. “Stay on your toes, Quinn. If Lord Halloween writes you a letter, I would make your own copy first. And I’d print it.”
“If they let me,” he said.
With that, Buzz walked off again. Quinn went back to his desk and sat down.
He put his head in his hands. When he looked up, Kate was staring at him. She looked pale, almost sick. He wasn’t sure when she arrived. He got up and walked over to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t sleep well,” she replied. “I feel like I haven’t slept in days.”
“I know the feeling,” Quinn said. “When I do sleep, all I have are nightmares.”
“Believe me, I understand,” she said. “What was that little pow-wow about?”
Quinn filled her in on the brief and tragic career of Tim Anderson.
“So he’s the blood in the basement?” she asked.
“It’s a good guess, but it isn’t conclusive,” Quinn replied.
“We need those letters,” she said.
“But how are we going to get them?” Quinn asked. “I doubt Laurence will admit he has them-if he even still does.”
“We can find a way,” Kate said, and Quinn did not like the look on her face. Not one bit.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” he said. “If it is Lord Halloween, he’ll make another move soon. He’ll want more attention then he got here. And it’s less than two weeks to Halloween.”
Rebecca stood at the door of the conference room and called everyone into the staff meeting. Both Kate and Quinn went inside.
That afternoon, Kate, Janus and Quinn sat in the coffee shop down the street.
“You want to do what?” Quinn asked. “Are you insane?”
