Dahmer's Not Dead

“Captain Closs. I’m Sergeant McGinnis, Central Commo Watch Captain tonight.”

“Sergeant, several days ago I—”

“Activated a one-way DF transponder, yes ma’am. We’ve been all over it here like stink on—- Like white on rice.”

“I need to know—”

Again, McGinnis interrupted. “Your search orders, ma’am, were for notification via a repeated-point- grid.”

“Gimme a break, Sergeant!”

“What I mean, Captain, is your orders indicated a notification call only if the subject’s vehicle traveled to the same location twice.”

Helen’s spirit’s lowered. “So I guess that hasn’t happened, huh?”

“No, ma’am, it hasn’t. If it had, we would’ve contacted you ASAP, as per your orders. We follow orders here at Central Commo.”

“I’m sure you do, Sergeant.” Suddenly she wanted a cigarette, an impulse dead for over a year. And a drink wouldn’t be bad now either. I’ll be a bar hound like Nick.

“Is there anything I can do for you, ma’am? I’ve got six duty personnel sitting here right now, and a couple million dollars’ worth of transmission equipment. We’re ready to roll on your command. Any previous grid-points you want, I’ll feed them to you right down to the sub-plats, the addresses—shit, Captain, with my DF board I can tell you which lane the guy’s in. I’ll tell you which side of the street he parks on, I’ll tell you when he changes lanes. If he stops at Dunkin’ Donuts to buy a French Twist, I’ll be able to tell you that, ’cos the guy’s on my board, and my board never makes mistakes.”

Helen almost laughed at the man’s sense of duty. “I appreciate your endeavors, Sergeant, but I need to talk to the owner of the subject vehicle right now. I have his address, I guess I’ll just drive there and see if he’s in.”

“But that’s what I mean, Captain,” McGinnis sounded off. “The owner of the subject vehicle is not at the logged address-plat. He’s on the road right now. He’s moving.”

“He’s in his car now, you mean?”

“Yes, ma’am. I sitting here watching the blip move as we speak.”

“Can you…” Helen paused. She wasn’t sure of the DF crew’s capabilities. She’d never had to use it very thoroughly before. “I’m on the road now, too, Sergeant. Is it possible for you to point me in the right direction of the DF subject’s vehicle?”

McGinnis laughed over the line. “Captain Closs, if you’ve got a lead foot, I can drive you right up his back bumper.”

“Okay, Sergeant. Do that. Right now I’m on DeMonter Boulevard. Where’s he?”

“Rowe Boulevard, heading—”

Shit! “I’m half a block from the Rowe turnoff. Which way do I turn?”

“North, ma’am.”

North, she thought. It was an evening of amalgams. The Great Bear of the north. North on Rowe Boulevard. All the while, chasing down a man named North.

“I’m there, Sergeant, heading north.” It was difficult to drive with the car phone crimped under her chin. “What’s he doing now?”

“Heading north, still north, ma’am. Just follow my lead and I’ll have you pulling up right behind him.”

Seconds ticked by. She thought she might’ve lost the connection. “Sergeant, you still there?”

“I’m still here, ma’am, and… He’s turning. He’s turning left on…””

“On what, Sergeant!”

“He just turned left on Chambers, ma’am. Take a left on Chambers. And…keep your eyes open for his vehicle, because he just parked.”

“Good job, Sergeant. Thank you for your expertise. I can take it from here,” she said, turning left on Chambers herself.

“Call me back if you need a pinpoint, a plat-grid. I’ll probably be able to give you the exact address.”

“Thank you,” she said, her chin crimping the phone to the point of ludicrousness. “I know his make and model. I’ll be able to see it on the street.”

Helen hung up, a kink in her neck. Chambers Road. Wait a minute, she thought. Chambers Road intersected Taylor Avenue, and Taylor Avenue was where—

That’s where…Tom lives.

It was too coincidental, wasn’t it? There was no way. Nevertheless, she sped down Chambers until she saw North’s Gold Dodge Colt. Parked precisely at the corner.

The corner of Taylor.

I do not believe this!

Helen pulled up and parked directly behind the Colt. Then she got out and walked to the corner. A hundred feet away was the entrance to Tom’s condo building.

No, no, no, she thought in grueling slowness as her heels ticked down the sidewalk. Just last week she’d seen Tom kissing a male lover on the steps of the entrance. And now—

Helen stopped stock-still.

A scene repeated in part. There he was, Tom, standing at the entrance, with Matthew North.

Helen viewed the entrance as if through gauze. No, Tom and North weren’t kissing. They were conversing, Tom with his hands in his pockets, North standing with a hip cocked, listening.

“Hey!” she shouted. Her frozen breath gusted outward.

Tom turned, a flabbergasted look on his face. North’s face, however, looked like the face of a kid caught shop-lifting.

Tom: “Helen, what are you—”

North stalked off. Under his breath, he muttered “Shit.”

“Shit is right, buddy!” Helen close to screeched. “And that’s what you’ll be in a world of if you don’t stop right there!”

North had tracked halfway across the front lot before he frowned, stopped, and turned. “What?” he asked, splaying his hands.

“What?” Helen was incredulous. “I just got the DA to drop charges on you, and this is how you repay me?”

North jerked his head, shot back a lock of dark hair. “Look, lady, I gotta eat, ya know? It’s a tough world, and, yeah, I got found another service to work for. But it’s just until I can get a legit job, I swear.”

Helen wanted to grab his jacket collar and shake him. “I could care less what you do for money, but you tell me this, Mr. North. What’s a male prostitute doing at the home of the Deputy Medical Examiner for the State of Wisconsin?”

“Hey, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” North claimed, not too convincingly. “It was a bum call or something, or a wrong address.”

“Bullshit!” Helen simmered as she glared at him. Arresting him would be weak in court—she couldn’t swear under oath that she’d heard a proposition—and she didn’t have time to take him to Headquarters. Grilling Tom was more important.

“Listen to me,” she asserted, pointing into his face. “You’re going straight back to your apartment, and later on I’m coming by and we’re going to have a long talk. And you better be there, Mr. North, because if you’re not I’m going to have a statewide dragnet out on you, and you think I’m bluffing… Try me!”

“I’ll be there, I’ll be there,” North sluffed, then slouched for his car.

Helen’s fists clenched till her fingernails were nearly cutting her palms. She trod back toward the apartment steps, where Tom stared at her.

“Helen, what in God’s name—”

“You got a lot of gall, Tom,” she spat. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you’re in?”

“What? That guy? I never saw him before in my life. We were just…chatting.”