“Oh sure, there’s no rush. I mean, my sister isn’t throwing me out into the street or anything. I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“I’ll try to find out. And I’ll get back to you.”
“You have the number here in Long Beach, don’t you?”
“Yes, you gave it to me.”
“Well,” Mary said. “Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
“Goodbye now.”
“Goodbye, Mary.”
There was a click on the line. Eileen replaced the receiver on its cradle, and looked at her watch. If she didn’t hurry, she’d miss the first obscene phone call she’d ever had in her life. She was heading back for the bedroom when the phone rang again. She looked at her watch again. Bert? Fifteen minutes early? Mary again, asking her to look up something else in the checkbook? She went back to the desk and lifted the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Eileen?”
She recognized the voice at once.
“Hello, Annie,” she said, “how are you?”
“The question is how’re you?”
“Surviving,” Eileen said. “What’s up?”
“Have you got a minute?”
“Barely,” she said, and looked at her watch again.
“Oh?” Annie said. “Plans for tonight?”
“Sort of,” Eileen said.
She did not think it wise to explain to Detective First/Grade Anne Rawles exactly what those plans were. The plans, in fact, were somewhat vague in her own mind. But she had read books, ah yes, she had read books. All sorts of fantasies were dancing through her head.
“You going out or something?” Annie asked.
“No, not tonight. I was out last night. I went to a movie.”
“Any sign of him?”
“No.”
“Were you alone?”
“As alone as anyone can be,” Eileen said.
“I’m sorry about that, but...”
“Sure, don’t sweat it. I just got a call from Mary Hollings, she...”
“From California?”
“Yeah. She wants to know when I’ll be getting out of here.”
“Maybe sooner than you think,” Annie said.
“You calling off the job?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I’ve got some stuff that might interest you,” Annie said and began telling her about the pattern she’d detected while working on the computer printouts. Eileen looked at her watch. Automatically, she moved a pad into place before her on the desk and began taking notes as Annie told her about the four-week, three-week, two-week cycle. As she continued listening, she jotted down the dates on which Mary Hollings had been raped: June 10, September 16, and October 7.
“That doesn’t jibe,” she said. “There’s a long gap between June and September.”
“Yeah, but if you count off the weeks — have you got a calendar there?”
“Just a sec,” Eileen said, and turned to the front page of Mary’s checkbook. “Yeah, go ahead.”
“Just count out the weeks with me,” Annie said. “First rape, June tenth. Four weeks after that, July eighth. Three weeks after that, July twenty-ninth... are you following me?”
“Yeah?” Eileen said, puzzled.
“Okay. Two weeks after that, August twelfth. A week after that, August nineteenth. End of cycle. You beginning to see it?”
“Not yet.”
“Then stay with me. Four weeks after August nineteenth was September sixteenth... have you got those dates I gave you for the Hollings rapes?”
“Yes. September sixteenth, right, here it is.”
“Right. And when’s the next one?”
“October seventh.”
“Exactly three weeks later,” Annie said. “And what’s two weeks after that?”
“October twenty-first.”
“Tomorrow,” Annie said.
“So you think...”
“I think... look, who knows how this creep’s mind is working? There may not be a pattern at all, this may all be coincidence. But if there is a pattern, then Mary Hollings is the only victim he’s hit on Fridays and tomorrow’s Friday, and it happens to be two weeks from the last time she was raped.”
“Yeah,” Eileen said.
“What I’m saying...”
“I got it.”
“I’m saying be careful tomorrow.”
“Thanks.”
“You think you might need a backup on this?”
“We might spook him. I’ll chance it alone.”
“Eileen... really. Be very careful.”
“Okay.”
“He has a knife.”
“I know.”
“He’s used it before...”
“I know.”
“So watch your step. He pulls that knife, don’t ask questions, just blow him away.”
“Okay.” She hesitated. “When do you think he’ll make his move?” she asked.
“It’s always been at night,” Annie said.
“So I got all day tomorrow to shop, and eat lunch in health food joints, and go to the museum or whatever, right?”
Annie laughed, and then sobered immediately.
“While you’re doing all that,” she said, “keep an eye out for him. If he’s going to hit tomorrow night, he may be tracking you.”
“Okay.”
“You sure you don’t want a backup?”
Eileen wasn’t sure. But she said, “I don’t want to lose him.”
“I’m not talking about men. We can throw a couple of lady cops in there.”
“He might smell them. We’re too close now, Annie.”
“Okay. But remember what I said. If he pulls that...”
“I’ve got it all.” She looked at her watch again. “That it?”
“Good luck,” Annie said, and hung up.
Two good lucks in the same night, Eileen thought as she put the receiver back on the cradle. I’m going to need it, that’s for damn sure. It was almost 10:30. If Bert was nothing else, he was punctual. She went back into the bedroom, debating putting on a nightgown, and decided on a pair of panties instead. She was about to draw the blinds when the telephone rang again. She went back into the living room, and picked up the receiver.
“Hello?” she said.
“Honey, it’s me,” Kling said.
“Yes, Bert. I was just about to...”
“Listen, I’m sorry, but we got some names and addresses from Motor Vehicles on these hangings. The loot just phoned me, he wants us to hit them in three teams.”
“Oh,” Eileen said.
“So... uh... it’ll have to wait, I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Eileen said.
“Maybe tomorrow night,” Kling said.
“Maybe.”
“I gotta run, Meyer’s picking me up in five minutes.”
“Okay, darling. Be careful.”
“You, too.”
There was a click on the line. Eileen hung up and walked back into the bedroom. As she was reaching for the hanging cords on the venetian blinds, it suddenly occurred to her that Bert’s idea wouldn’t have worked, anyway, there wasn’t a phone in the bedroom.
Sighing, she pulled the blinds shut.
From where he crouched behind the parapet of the roof opposite, binoculars to his eyes, he saw the blinds closing, his view into the bedroom suddenly replaced by a rectangle of light as impenetrable as a brick wall.
He’d been watching her ever since nightfall. Would have preferred following her all day long, but that was impossible. He wasn’t free until four, sometimes five, each afternoon. Even getting away at night was difficult, the excuses he had to make. Didn’t want to be away on too many nights because the nights dictated by the calendar had to be absolutely certain ones. Whatever else happened to fall on these nights, he’d say no, sorry I have to be someplace else. Here, there, anywhere. His excuses were bought. Not always without question, but always bought in the long run. He was a determined person. People had learned a long time ago that there was no sense trying to argue him out of any position he’d taken.