“We may be able to get one,” Dixon said. “If we get a judge who’s willing to stick his neck out a bit.”
Vail tapped Yeung on the shoulder, and then explained that they needed a warrant. Hopefully, the section chief had enough juice to get it for them.
Burden glanced around the quiet street. “At the very least, we should go over to Scheer’s place and see what we can stir up, talk to his neighbors.”
“A canvass at this time of night?” Dixon asked.
Yeung turned to face them. “His section chief said Mike had a personal phone. If we can’t find his Bureau-issue BlackBerry, his other cell may have something. I’ve got his carrier. Why don’t you three go to Scheer’s apartment and we’ll try to track down Mike’s BuCar in case his phone’s in there.”
“And the warrant?”
“Chief said he’d make a call. No promises.”
“We’ll be in touch when we know something,” Burden said.
They got in their vehicles and headed off.
As Dixon locked in her seatbelt, she said, “If Scheer’s the offender, does that make sense? Does he have a connection to Alcatraz?”
“Send it over to the interns,” Burden said to Dixon. “See what they can dig up.”
“Does he fit the profile?” she asked as she thumbed her iPhone.
Vail grabbed the door handle as Burden swung out into traffic. “Before we had that hit on MacNally, I was thinking we were dealing with a middle-aged man. That matches up. He’s educated and, based on what we saw of his workspace, it appeared to be neat. I didn’t get a sense that he’s psychopathic, but they can be very good at disguising it. His wife said he’s a closed person, that it takes effort for him to socialize. That could be pathognomonic of psychopathology. But it can also just be that he’s an introvert.”
“So you don’t know,” Burden said.
“Off the top of my head, no. I mean, the offender’s played it brilliantly. He kept us busy, he took our minds off the ball, processing and evaluating multiple vics, chasing cryptic clues that he kept feeding us, dealing with Friedberg’s disappearance. He totally knew how to work us. And unless something stands out, unless you pick up on some warning sign, you don’t think to look at the people around you.
“If it is Scheer, that’s a very bold strategy because we’ve had a lot of contact with him. Shit, Burden, you’ve known him for years. Not well, but if he is the UNSUB, he’s been killing in your backyard and you didn’t know it. That’d certainly fit his ego, to be around us at the height of a crisis and we’re still not seeing him. But I need time to look everything over, all the crime scenes, all the vics, and think things through. I’m a little overloaded with facts and the UNSUB’s subterfuge. I’ve gotta cut through all the shit and boil it down to an offender profile.”
“Is it even possible?” Dixon asked. “We were with him while those texts were coming in and we were running all over the city.”
Vail considered that, working those incidents through her mind. “He wasn’t with us the whole time. And when he was, how hard is it to pull your phone and type out a short text? If he already knew what he was going to write, why not? None of us was watching him. I’m not saying that nails it, but it is possible.”
Moments later, Dixon pointed out the window. “This is it.”
Burden swung the car into a hydrant space at the curb.
As they were getting out, Vail’s phone buzzed. While climbing the steps to the brownstone-style apartment building, Vail stole a look at the display. “Carondolet got a tech to pull Hartman’s phone logs. We’ve got the dates and times that his calls and texts were made and received. Scheer’s number’s there. Nine times during the past three days.”
“Let’s go see what we can find out,” Burden said.
Visible through the exterior glass door was a small entryway that contained a telephone handset and a series of mailboxes with their corresponding buzzers.
Dixon set her hands on her hips. “Why is it that security measures don’t have any effect on a crook but they stop us dead?”
“I think we’re good,” Burden said.
A man in his late twenties was approaching the building and fiddling with his keys. He excused himself and tried to walk between them.
But Vail blocked his way. “FBI. We need entry to your building.” Before the man could object or pose a question, Vail asked her own. “Do you know Stephen Scheer?”
The man, still fixated on Vail’s badge, met her eyes. “He’s my roommate. Why?”
“Is he home?” Burden asked.
“I was bartending. I’m just getting back myself. But I wouldn’t be surprised if Stephen isn’t home. He’s gone a lot, working stories.”
“Can we take a look around your place?”
The man squinted and leaned backwards. “Uhh…”
“Not a big deal,” Vail said, pulling her BlackBerry. “We can camp outside your door and get a warrant. Or you can let us in. You got drugs in there, whatever, we don’t care. Stephen is working a case with us, and he may have some info that he meant to give us.”
The man bobbed his head, then finally nodded. “If he meant to give it to you, then why-”
“We have reason to believe he may be in danger,” Burden said. “And we don’t have a lot of time.”
The roommate’s eyes widened. “Why didn’t you just say that? Come on up.” He unlocked the door and led them inside.
Burden winked at Vail and they ascended the stairs, which creaked with each step. Inside, there were boxes stacked along one of the walls.
“Stephen hasn’t finished unpacking. I think he’s still hoping he’ll get back together with his wife.”
“How do you know him?” Vail asked as Dixon and Burden began looking around.
“I was a journalism major. I’ve hooked on with the Register and Stephen helped me get the gig. He needed a place to crash, and I had a study, so…”
A moment later, Burden emerged from a small adjacent room holding up a thin cellphone. Vail nodded, acknowledging the significance of the find, while Dixon completed her sweep.
“How’s it going with you guys?”
“Stephen’s an awesome writer. I’ve learned a lot from him. I mean, you can’t overestimate the value of all the experience he’s got under his belt.”
Hate to burst your bubble, kid, but this guy may have a whole lot of other experiences hidden under his belt you probably don’t want to know about.
Dixon and Burden entered the living room, signaling they were done.
