“Is it just you five?”
“No, no. We’ll have other units in the area, but we have to keep them back until he moves. We don’t want to spook him. The guy was a Marine. He’s got to be checking behind him from time to time. I don’t want to have him abort.”
“I don’t want him getting away,” the chief said, concern in his voice.
“He won’t,” Riles assured.
“Once we get him, then what?” Rock asked.
“I want this bastard in court quickly. I want his arrest to be public. I want a fuckin’ perp walk,” the chief said. “Sylvia?”
“I can handle that,” Miller replied. “We’ll have as early a press conference as possible. We’ll set the time for the perp walk so the media can cover it. Riley and Rockford can walk him in. It’ll be great theatre.”
“How about you, Helen?”
“Publicity? Moi? Far be it from me to stand in the way,” replied a smiling Anderson, drawing a knowing chuckle. “We could have him in court the next day, I think. Sally?”
“We can. Detective Riley has kept me in the loop,” not to mention Mac, nocturnally. “I’ll have things ready for a quick hearing if need be.”
“Good. I want a public spectacle of this thing. The department needs that. Sylvia, Helen, Ms. Kennedy, Marion, I want you to stick around so we can discuss that further. Riles, you and the boys go catch that piece of shit.”
Viper contemplated his next move while sitting on the boss’s couch, drinking a bottled water. They missed Knapp. It was a good plan. Dumb luck really. If Lich hadn’t walked in, Knapp would have been gone. Shit happens. Viper didn’t explain it quite that way to the boss, but that was the gist of what happened.
“So, what are you going to do?” the boss asked.
Good question. Knapp was going to go for Linda soon, probably tonight, tomorrow at the latest. Problem was, the police detail would have cops all over the place. According to the boss’s source, for purposes of prosecution, it would be best to catch him in the act. There would be no shortage of assets in the area. Viper didn’t have many options, so he answered straight, “To be honest, I’m not sure.”
“The police are on him tight?”
“As a drum. Bouchard and I think he’ll go for it tonight, and the cops are swarming this guy.”
“Then we’ll have to come up with something while he’s in custody.”
“In custody, sir?”
“Yeah, somehow, some way, we’ll have to get at him that way.”
Viper, at a loss, said, “How?”
“Let me see what I can find out,” the boss replied.
Mac and Lich resumed tailing Knapp at an Arby’s on University at lunchtime. Knapp had an affinity for fast food, which made him like a lot of people. Difference was it didn’t seem to go to his belly. Mac, on the other hand, felt bloated. He hadn’t worked out in what seemed like two weeks, causing him to check his waste line for a paunch. There wasn’t one. Of course, if he needed to, he could merely look over at Lich. He had enough for the two of them.
“Another day,” uttered Lich as he adjusted in the passenger seat.
“Another dollar,” Mac finished, trying to get comfortable as well.
“So he thinks we have to take him out when he’s in police custody?” Bouchard asked.
“Yeah,” Viper replied skeptically. “I’m not sure how we do it. Any ideas?”
“Not off hand,” Bouchard replied. “I’d think they’ll have him tightly guarded. Not sure how we could get close enough to do anything. Especially before he starts talking.”
“If he does talk,” Viper mused.
“Most serial killers do,” Bouchard replied.
“Could always be a first time.” Viper’s cellphone chimed, it was the boss. “Well, maybe he has some answers for us.”
Mac yawned. It was 4:30 p.m., the sun was setting and the night was rolling in. The sports radio station was on low. It was Vikings season and nothing raised the passions of the sporting public in the Twin Cities more than the Purple. The rubes were in full rage, a recent loss to the Bears causing everybody’s bile to percolate. The updated weather forecast had rain turning to snow, and soon. Oh, goodie, Mac thought. He and Lich were watching as Knapp picked up uniforms from Murray Engineering.
“We’ve been following him how long now?”
Lich rubbed his eyes, tired of the monotony as well. “A week, I think.”
“So, next will be the dry cleaning at the 801 Building.” It was. Mac laid out his next two stops, right on the money.
“What are you now, Columbo?”
They had his pattern down. They knew his every move, when he woke up, what route he drove to work, his route while working, who he talked too, what he picked up, what he dropped off, what streets he drove, where he parked, where he liked to eat lunch, fill up with gas, take a leak. They had it all. But they couldn’t relax. They had to stay sharp. This would be the time he’d throw them a curve ball, and Mac would drive a van right into the back of him. Then the jig would be up.
Per his normal schedule, Knapp finished his route at 6:00 p.m. At 6:05, he casually walked out of the building and got into his car. He left the lot and turned left onto University. Then he took an immediate right south on Lexington. He took a left onto the freeway and headed east on 94. This was not part of the normal pattern. Mac and Lich were in the first vehicle trailing Knapp towards Hudson.
“You don’t suppose?” Lich said.
“Yeah. Exactly,” Mac replied.
Riley and Rockford passed them, driving a white Buick Century. Rockford raised his eyebrows as they passed. They were thinking the same thing.
Knapp pulled into his driveway at 6:45 p.m. Mac and Lich drove past and pulled into the housing development. The rest of the crew were in the parking lot at the restaurant. Mac and Lich watched out the back windows of the van. Thankfully the back of the van had vinyl swivel seats that were moderately comfortable. They could sit and watch Knapp’s place through the night vision scope or binoculars. There was little radio traffic. Everyone was on edge. Something was happening.
Then nothing happened.
At 8:30 p.m. Lich bitched, “What the fuck? He takin’ a night off?”
A light, cold rain started. Mac felt the temperature drop five degrees in a minute and a shiver go down his spine. After a brief rush of action, the monotony set back in. Mac grabbed a Pioneer Press off the floor, and read the sports page for the fourth time, this time squinting in the dark. Lich was passively watching the house, slouched in the seat in back, his arms crossed, lightly rocking, trying to stay warm.
At 10:15, Mac’s bladder started barking at him, and he got out of the van to take a piss. He could see his breath in the cool night, the light mist falling around him. Steam rose from his urine as it hit the ground.
“Mac, get in here!” Lich yelled.
“What?”
“I’ve got the van.”
Mac quickly finished and moved for the van, trying to zip his pants at the same time. Parked in front of an out building they hadn’t seen Knapp go into all week, was a Ford Econoline van, dark in color, lights on, a large dent in the front bumper and, most important of all, the right license plate. “I’ll be damned, Jupiter, you the man,” Mac whispered to himself.
Mac jumped into the passenger seat and grabbed the radio, “Riles, do you copy?”
“Here, Mac.”
“We’ve got the van. It’s outside, and we confirmed the plate number.”
“Copy that. We’re moving out now. You follow Knapp.”
“Copy that.”
“Bout fuckin’ time,” Lich yelled gleefully, as he fired up the van, did a quick U-turn. He turned left onto County 35, half a mile behind Knapp.
Any exhaustion they had experienced was history. The game was on- finally. The adrenaline was flowing. They’d been waiting a week for this. “Tonight’s the night,” Mac said quietly.