“Would it be possible for you to scan the file and send it to me by e-mail? When things settle down?”
“Yeah, of course. And you want the bullet? FedEx?”
“That’s fine.”
“So you think this dog-killer robbed a bank in Cincinnati?”
“Looks like it.”
“Have you heard anything about the other three crimes yet?” he asked.
“No. But I’m still waiting to hear from a lot of departments.”
“Do you think he stole the gum?”
She misheard him. “The gun?”
“No, the
gum
.”
Dagny hadn’t thought about it. “You mean as his first crime?”
“If you were going to start small, could you start any smaller?”
“That’s a good theory.”
Perez seemed pleased with the praise. Dagny thanked him, gave her home address, and said she might call upon him again.
Perez’s theory was good, but it worried Dagny. It would be better if the first crime was grand theft or burglary. Stealing a stick of gum was a long way from bank robbery, and such a steep trajectory made Dagny worry about the nature of crime number six.
She surfed the web while a few more unhelpful e-mails came in. At a quarter to five, she packed up her things and headed back to the classroom. Along the way, she stopped at a vending machine and purchased a pack of Wrigley’s Extra. She fished one of her business cards from her backpack and held the stick of gum to the back of the card. The gum was shorter than the card by half a centimeter on each side. She folded the gum in her mouth and continued to class.
She was met with cold stares from her classmates as they exited the room. A teacher’s pet is never popular. Even Brent’s smile was a little forced. Should’ve been him, right? Even though he wouldn’t have wanted it. Dagny peeked inside the classroom, and the Professor waved for her to enter.
“Dead dog in Chula Vista,” she began. She filled him in on the details and relayed Perez’s theory about the gum. “Was there gum on the back of the card in Cincinnati?”
“You can find out tomorrow when you visit Lieutenant Beamer. You’re okay with that, right? Going to Cincinnati?”
“Of course.” Little did he know she’d already booked a ticket.
CHAPTER 15
March 13—Cincinnati, Ohio
A balding middle-aged man with a bad cough plopped down in the seat next to her. “Michael Connelly. I love his stuff. I read that one last week.”
Cough
. “How do you like it?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, without looking up from her book.
“I thought about being a cop, always thought I would have been a good detective. But you know how those things go.”
Dagny didn’t, so she ignored him.
“You from Cincy or DC? Or you connecting somewhere?”
“I’m from DC. I’m going to Cincinnati.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“University Hospital. I’ve got a mild form of leprosy, and they’re checking me into a clinical trial.”
“Oh.” The man left her alone for the rest of the flight. He even ceded the armrest.
When the hills of Northern Kentucky parted, the Cincinnati skyline filled the expanse. Staring out the taxi window, Dagny was surprised by its beauty. Newer cities are all glass and steel, but Cincinnati was a hodgepodge of classical, art deco, and modernarchitecture. The hills surrounding downtown were dotted with expensive homes and condos feasting on river and city views. Beautiful, colorful bridges spanned the river. But when Dagny’s cab crossed one of them into the downtown, she saw boarded-up storefronts and loiterers in front of City Hall. There were hundreds of old houses in distress. Shattered windows and graffiti. Vagrants sleeping on benches. An upturned trash can.
Cincinnati looked better from afar, she decided.
At District One, a short, scrawny bald man waited by the curb. “Ronald Beamer,” he said, helping her out of the taxi. The curbside greeting was unexpected, but then again, visitors from Quantico were surely rare.
Beamer led Dagny up the steps and into the station, through a
“Yeah, of course. And you want the bullet? FedEx?”
“That’s fine.”
“So you think this dog-killer robbed a bank in Cincinnati?”
“Looks like it.”
“Have you heard anything about the other three crimes yet?” he asked.
“No. But I’m still waiting to hear from a lot of departments.”
“Do you think he stole the gum?”
She misheard him. “The gun?”
“No, the
gum
.”
Dagny hadn’t thought about it. “You mean as his first crime?”
“If you were going to start small, could you start any smaller?”
“That’s a good theory.”
Perez seemed pleased with the praise. Dagny thanked him, gave her home address, and said she might call upon him again.
Perez’s theory was good, but it worried Dagny. It would be better if the first crime was grand theft or burglary. Stealing a stick of gum was a long way from bank robbery, and such a steep trajectory made Dagny worry about the nature of crime number six.
She surfed the web while a few more unhelpful e-mails came in. At a quarter to five, she packed up her things and headed back to the classroom. Along the way, she stopped at a vending machine and purchased a pack of Wrigley’s Extra. She fished one of her business cards from her backpack and held the stick of gum to the back of the card. The gum was shorter than the card by half a centimeter on each side. She folded the gum in her mouth and continued to class.
She was met with cold stares from her classmates as they exited the room. A teacher’s pet is never popular. Even Brent’s smile was a little forced. Should’ve been him, right? Even though he wouldn’t have wanted it. Dagny peeked inside the classroom, and the Professor waved for her to enter.
“Dead dog in Chula Vista,” she began. She filled him in on the details and relayed Perez’s theory about the gum. “Was there gum on the back of the card in Cincinnati?”
“You can find out tomorrow when you visit Lieutenant Beamer. You’re okay with that, right? Going to Cincinnati?”
“Of course.” Little did he know she’d already booked a ticket.
CHAPTER 15
March 13—Cincinnati, Ohio
A balding middle-aged man with a bad cough plopped down in the seat next to her. “Michael Connelly. I love his stuff. I read that one last week.”
Cough
. “How do you like it?”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured, without looking up from her book.
“I thought about being a cop, always thought I would have been a good detective. But you know how those things go.”
Dagny didn’t, so she ignored him.
“You from Cincy or DC? Or you connecting somewhere?”
“I’m from DC. I’m going to Cincinnati.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“University Hospital. I’ve got a mild form of leprosy, and they’re checking me into a clinical trial.”
“Oh.” The man left her alone for the rest of the flight. He even ceded the armrest.
When the hills of Northern Kentucky parted, the Cincinnati skyline filled the expanse. Staring out the taxi window, Dagny was surprised by its beauty. Newer cities are all glass and steel, but Cincinnati was a hodgepodge of classical, art deco, and modernarchitecture. The hills surrounding downtown were dotted with expensive homes and condos feasting on river and city views. Beautiful, colorful bridges spanned the river. But when Dagny’s cab crossed one of them into the downtown, she saw boarded-up storefronts and loiterers in front of City Hall. There were hundreds of old houses in distress. Shattered windows and graffiti. Vagrants sleeping on benches. An upturned trash can.
Cincinnati looked better from afar, she decided.
At District One, a short, scrawny bald man waited by the curb. “Ronald Beamer,” he said, helping her out of the taxi. The curbside greeting was unexpected, but then again, visitors from Quantico were surely rare.
Beamer led Dagny up the steps and into the station, through a
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