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Hollis sighed and looked up at one of the pair of giant marble lions, Patience and Fortitude, that flanked the building’s stairs. “He was the last person I saw last night and the first one to call me this morning. But if I’m working with the great and famous Michael Bennett, I guess I should expect a few rough patches.”
“Funny.”
Hollis asked me, “How’d the meeting with the editor at the Daily News go?”
“About like you’d expect. It’s very clear to me that they’re only interested in the number of papers they sell or clicks the story gets online, not in helping out our homicide investigation. I swear, sometimes it feels like there are some awfully bloodthirsty people in the media who want more murders so they can have juicier stories that sell more papers.”
Hollis shook his head in dismay, then said, “So what’re we hoping for from our visit to the library?”
“Ideally, a description of some kind. We have the date and time the email was sent. Maybe a security camera got a useful image of the killer. We should be able to narrow down the hours of footage. Maybe a member of the staff even spoke to him. We can get a forensic artist if we have to make a composite.”
“I hope we find something. We got nothing useful so far from the tip line.”
I turned and looked at the crowds of people passing the library or congregating in front of it. I was struck by the fact that we were looking for a needle in a haystack. A giant haystack. And a needle that moved from city to city.
Patience and fortitude. That’s what it would take to catch this killer.
Chapter 45
Daniel Ott stopped in front of the main branch of the New York Public Library, contemplating the new research he needed to do today. As before, he preferred to use someone else’s computer when looking up anything…unsavory. If anyone searched his laptop, they’d find only his work-related materials and Google searches having to do with the best homeschool curriculums.
The most important part of today’s research was not electronic. He was interested in the reaction of the other librarians to the death of the librarian he had killed, along with whoever that other man was.
That’s why he was back here today.
He was already wondering about his next victim. He’d be leaving New York in about a week, and it would be nice to enjoy one last night of rituals and excitement in the big city.
Besides, he’d promised the Daily N
ews that he would claim another life. And he didn’t want to let his readers down.
He looked in the faces of the women striding past the library and saw half a dozen who might fit his needs. Women who looked like they would ignore him if he spoke to them. Women who thought they were better than him, better than everyone.
As he stood for the moment next to the stairs leading into the main entrance of the library, however, he glanced down and saw a frail-looking woman with a child sitting in her lap. She wore a floral dress that looked vintage 1970s. Next to her sat a wire shopping basket holding a stack of clothes with some chips and a half eaten Clif Bar balanced on top.
The woman spoke with a heavy accent. “Can you help us? We need money to get upstate.”
She had big brown eyes and seemed completely defeated. The little girl in her lap was about three. Her curly hair was dirty, and she wore a T-shirt stained with grape juice. She gave him the briefest of smiles.
Ott pulled his wallet from his back pocket. When he opened it, he realized all he had was a single ten-dollar bill. He’d meant to stop at the ATM but had forgotten. Ott looked down at the sad pair and handed the woman his ten dollars.
The woman squeezed his hand and said, “Bless you. May God bless you, sir.”
“I’ll be happy if you use the money to buy that little girl some food. I believe I’m beyond God’s blessing. If there is a God,” Ott said. He realized that some of the lessons of his childhood had definitely stuck with him. He had nothing against churches, but that wasn’t how he’d been raised. Aside from his wedding, he had never been inside one.
Ott left the woman and went into the library. The first time he had visited, he’d made a quick note of the security. Frankly, he’d expected more cameras. There were a few around, but he also noticed several dummy cameras, fake cameras positioned to make security appear beefier. Ott glanced up to make sure they had not installed video cameras since his last visit. His eyes quickly moved up the walls and around the decorative crown molding. There was nothing. No cameras or sensors of any kind.
He walked directly to the computer room and looked up and around. No new cameras there either. He knew the idea was to make the room as inviting and unintimidating to people as possible.
Two staff members were in the room. One was organizing magazines in the corner, and the other sat at a desk, sorting through books that had recently been returned. She paid no attention to who was at the computers, or whether they had signed in.
Like he belonged there, he settled into his place at the third computer from the door. The same one he’d used to send his letter to the New York Daily News. He wanted to see the story online even though he’d already read it so many times in print. Often the online stories were accompanied by photos or embedded videos not available in the print edition.
Ott then moved on to other local media stories about the murders. He was interested in learning more about the detective on the case. There were photos of this Michael Bennett in several different settings. Ott didn’t think the man looked like a cop. He looked more like an actor. Then Ott did a search on Bennett.
He couldn’t believe the number of articles that had run over the years. The man had been lead detective on several major investigations. There were also several human-interest stories about his personal life. He was a widower with ten adopted children. Ott wondered if he’d adopted the children before or after his wife died.
He glanced up from the computer at the two women working in the room. They both appeared subdued. Ott assumed that was because of him, because he had murdered one of their colleagues. He smiled. They had no idea it was her conduct on the job that had put their friend at risk.
