Ella felt the back of her neck go cold.Eddie Foxall.The manager of the Colisée Theatre, whose logo was a ballet dancer in a turquoise dress, and whose handcrafted wooden replica had been found on a dead girl’s hand.
The figurine from Rose Michaels pointed here.To this theatre.And quite possibly to the man who ran this place.
And he wasn’t answering his phone.
‘I need Eddie’s home address,’ Ella said.‘Right now.’
‘His address?I’m not sure I can give you that.I mean-’
‘This is urgent.I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.And I’m going to get cops here within thirty minutes to keep an eye on this place in case anything happens, okay?’
It worked because the woman turned to the computer behind the counter and started typing.
***
The theatre clerk had scribbled Eddie Foxall’s cell number and home address on the back of a playbill.Ella had the phone on speaker on the passenger seat.It rang until the automated voicemail kicked in.She hung up, hit redial, then listened to it ring again.
But still, no one picked up.
Ella slammed a palm against the wheel.Too slow, always too slow.For all her quick thinking and quicker trigger finger, she was forever one step behind.The job made her hard, but it had never made her early.
She ended the call and dialed Ripley.
‘Where are you?’Ripley said instead of hello.
‘Driving to 1418 Bancroft Drive.It’s about twenty minutes from the precinct if you leave now.’
‘What’s at 1418 Bancroft Drive?’
‘The ballet dancer we found on Rose Michaels is the logo for a place called the Colisée Theatre.I went there.Everyone is accounted for, except the manager.A guy named Eddie Foxall.I’ve tried calling him but he’s not picking up.’
‘Got it.I’m coming.Is there anyone at the theater right now?’
‘Yeah, just over fifty.Do me a favor and get a few officers over there to keep an eye on things.’
‘Will do.How far away are you?’
‘Depends how fast I drive.About ten minutes.’
‘I’ll meet you at the address.Watch your step.’
‘Just hurry.’Ella punched off and squinted at the passing street signs.According to her GPS, she was thirteen minutes out from Bancroft Lane but that was nothing a little speeding wouldn’t fix.
‘Come on,’ she muttered as she floored the gas.‘Come on you son of a… pick up.’
She hit redial one more time and listened to it ring.Her stomach tightened as seconds bled away.No answer.Again.Wherever Eddie Foxall was, he wasn’t near his phone.
Or he couldn’t get to it.
A strange sensation crept over Ella then, the certainty that she was finally seeing the world through this psycho’s eyes.One figurine leading to the next, and each one was an omen of death.She just had to intercept his pattern and maybe uncover the common denominator in the process.
She just had to hope she wasn’t too late.
***
Bancroft Drive was a residential street in the Bywater.Ella found two cars outside number 1418, and there were no lights on in the house, which suggested no one was home or the owners went to bed very early.
But someonehadto be home because Ella refused to accept the alternative.
