Earlier, he arranged to have more patrols around the Thorburn residence. Officers also staked out the backyard and the front of the house, staying watchful around the clock. The officers at the rear were hidden well. They would spend the long hours sequestered in the garage, staring through a small window. Hank didn’t envy them their task.
When his cell phone rang, he looked at the caller ID. It was Annie. He answered it and she told him she had some important information to share, and if he would be at the precinct for a while, she and Jake would be right over.
He assured her he would be there and hung up the phone.
Detective King wandered over and plopped into a chair, a coffee in one hand, a muffin in the other. “Thought I might call it a day,” he said. “Unless you have something urgent.”
Hank looked closely at King. “You have something more important to do?”
King shrugged, finished his coffee, and set the empty cup on the desk. “Not really. Just want to go home and put my feet up. It’s been a long day.”
“For both of us,” Hank said.
King disregarded Hank’s comment, downed the last bite of muffin, and stood. He waved a hand and strode away, calling over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow.”
Hank frowned, dropped King’s cup into the wastebasket, blew the crumbs off the edge of his desk, and turned back to his paperwork.
He was sorting through the notes he had made during his afternoon visits when he heard a familiar voice call.
“Hey, Uncle Hank.”
He pushed back his chair and swung toward the voice. “Hey, Matty,” he said.
The boy moved closer and gave Hank a fist bump. “Catch any bad guys lately?”
“Working on it. There’s no shortage of them out there and I’m doing my best to get my share.”
Annie and Jake were close behind Matty and they settled into guest chairs. Matty wandered across the precinct floor, probably looking for a friendly cop he could pester with questions.
“So what’s the important information you have for me?” Hank asked, looking back and forth between Jake and Annie.
Annie leaned forward. “I received a phone call from Adam Thorburn. On my cell phone.”
Hank’s mouth dropped open a moment, then he looked over his shoulder. Callaway was working late. He looked back at Annie. “You have your phone with you?” he asked, holding out a hand.
Annie removed her cell from her handbag and held it out.
“Let me see if we can find out where he called from,” Hank said, taking the phone.
“It’s the last inbound call,” Annie said. “From an unknown name. He said he was calling from a phone booth.”
“We’ll find out exactly where,” Hank said. He spun his chair around and wheeled over to Callaway’s desk. He handed Callaway the phone, explaining what he needed. “Can you find out where the call came from?”
“No problem, Hank,” Callaway said. He took the phone, sat forward and thumbed through it, then got to work at his keyboard. “Give me a few minutes.”
Hank wheeled back to his desk and looked at Annie. “How long ago did he call?”
“Just before I called you. I’m sure he didn’t stick around after that.”
“Nonetheless, it’ll tell us what neighborhood he’s hanging around,” Hank said. “Now, tell me about the call. Did you record it?”
“We only record calls to the landline,” Annie said. “I’m not exactly sure what he wanted. He seemed to be reaching out for help, but on the other hand, he adamantly refuses to surrender.”
Hank sat back, his brow furrowed in thought. “He’s a confused individual.”
“When I mentioned Raymond Ronson, he seemed genuinely surprised to hear about the murder. And upset. He said Mr. Ronson was always good to him.”
“At least that tells us he knew Ronson,” Hank said. “That’s something I was unsure of, and I believe Ronson was not a random target.”
“Here’s the disturbing news,” Annie said. “He told me he vaguely remembers another murder today. It came back to him while he was on the phone. He claims only to remember lots of blood and a knife.”
Hank leaned forward, his lips in a tight line. If what Adam had said was correct, that made three murders in three days. “He has no idea who the victim was?”
Annie shook her head. “He said he can’t remember.”
“There’ve been no reports of a murder anywhere in the city today,” Hank said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean much. A lot of murders go undiscovered for days, weeks sometimes.”
“He also mentioned his blackout spells and voices in his head.”
“Voices?”
“I did some research on schizophrenia,” Annie said. “That’s one of the symptoms. Voices telling you what to do. Adam said they don’t stop unless he does exactly what they tell him to. Paranoia and delusions of persecution are more symptoms, and Adam is experiencing them all.”
Hank nodded. “I know a bit about schizophrenia, but Adam’s a sociopath, and that’s what makes him dangerous.” He looked up as Callaway came over and handed him a sheet of paper.
“Call came from a phone booth at Mill and Remedy Road,” the technical whiz said. “I’ve dispatched a couple uniforms to the area, but don’t hold your breath.”
Hank took the paper and glanced at it. “Thanks, Callaway.”
“I believe there’s a plaza at Mill and Remedy,” Jake said. “I’ve been in the area a lot in the last couple of days.”
“That’s the plaza where Mortino’s is,” Hank said. “Where Adam works.”
“At least we know he’s still in the neighborhood,” Annie said.
Jake nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t think he has plans to leave.”
Hank dropped the sheet of paper on his desk, leaned back, and crossed his arms. “He’s targeting people he knows, so I agree with you, Jake. I don’t think he’ll leave the area as long as he continues to kill. Almost everyone he knows is from around here.”
“And you contacted them all?” Annie asked.
“Between King and me, everyone we could track down was notified and warned. Some have moved away, but we’ll eventually find them and give them a phone call.”
“In the meantime, I don’t think we have any other leads,” Annie said. “If Adam calls again, I’ll try once more to get him to surrender, but it’s unlikely.”
“We have cops everywhere,” Hank said. “But Thorburn is smart and he’s finding a way around us.” He shrugged. “But he can’t keep it up forever. If he returns home again, we’ll get him.”
“I’m sure we will,” Annie said and looked at Jake. “Shall we go?”
“I’ll find Matty,” Jake said. He wandered off and returned a minute later with the boy.
“See you later, Uncle Hank.”
Hank waved a hand and watched his friends leave the precinct before turning back to his desk. He had a few more things to take care of, then it would be time to call it quits for another day.
He arranged to have an unmarked police car wait in the plaza and watch the phone booth Thorburn had used. He assumed the killer would know the call could be traced and wouldn’t use the phone again, but he also knew even the smartest criminals slip up eventually.
Hank wanted to be ready when Thorburn made that fatal error.
Chapter 31
Wednesday, 6:55 p.m.
ADAM THORBURN sat on the grass, facing the swamp he loved, the rosebush an arm’s length away, trying desperately to remember more details about where he’d been that afternoon. He remembered calling Annie Lincoln; that was clear in his mind. It was what had taken place earlier that concerned him most.