Denise Levene’s Apartment
December 3, 10.20 p.m.
Harper was standing outside Denise Levene’s apartment. He was waiting, his head bowed to the ground. A few seconds later, the door opened. Daniel’s tired and ashen face looked out.
‘They told me you’d come over to get some of your clothes,’ said Harper. ‘I wanted to catch you.’
‘She wouldn’t be gone if it wasn’t for you, Detective, so I can do without the house call.’
‘I can understand what you’re feeling, I’m just here to try to help.’
‘How can you understand what I’m feeling? You killed her.’
Harper stood and met Daniel’s gaze. ‘I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this. Denise walked into this all on her own. She wanted to help.’
‘She’s not a cop. She’s not trained. She can’t even fire a gun. How is she qualified to hunt serial killers, Detective?’
‘She’s a damn fine profiler.’
‘She was a damn fine research scientist.’
‘She wanted more.’
‘What the fuck do you know about her?’ Daniel’s voice was harsh.
Harper took a step back. ‘I don’t want to make this worse for you. I’m sorry. That’s all I wanted to say. I’m sorry. Denise is a great lady. I’m doing everything I can. I’m sorry.’
Daniel didn’t reply and Harper turned and walked out of the apartment building. He called Kasper from the street. ‘Did you get my message?’
‘Yeah, sure did. You think Sebastian was a teenager when he killed Chloe.’
‘Yeah, and that means I think that if he was in love with Chloe he was at her school.’
‘I’m on the same train track, Harps.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Meadow Trail High School. There’s no one here. I’m waiting for the caretaker to come and let me in. I want to check back through the yearbooks. If we can get an ID on this guy, maybe we can trace him back to New York.’
‘That’s the plan,’ said Harper. ‘Keep me up to date.’
‘Will do,’ said Kasper and signed off.
Harper went across town to Maurice Macy’s schoolhouse. The forensics guys had finished their search and the lab guys would be busy. He looked into the rooms, walked through. On the floor there was an old photograph, creased and torn. Harper picked it up. Two boys. One big and tall and one small and slight, standing in front of a sign of some kind. Maurice Macy before he turned into a killer. Harper looked close at the picture of the boys. He looked at the sign, but it was obscured. Just the letter A was visible. Harper put the photograph down and turned round. He saw the empty wardrobe: hardly any clothes at all. Then something clicked in his head. There was no suitcase in the apartment. There had been no suitcase in Marconi’s van. Harper pulled out his cell and called Blue Team.
‘Garcia, get me the evidence list from Maurice Macy’s apartment. I need to know something.’
Garcia came back a moment later. ‘Got it. What do you want?’
‘Did they take a suitcase?’
Garcia looked down the items slowly, his finger on each line. He stopped at the end. ‘No suitcase on the list.’
Harper left the schoolhouse apartment. Someone had seen Sebastian wheeling a suitcase away from Denise’s building. There were suitcase tracks at Lottie Bixley’s dump site and Lucy James had seen a guy with a suitcase. Harper knew that Macy had used the suitcase, but now he was thinking something else. It wasn’t just a copycat. Sebastian was using the same suitcase. There was a link between these guys. Somehow they knew each other.
Harper got back on the phone to Garcia. ‘Mark, that report we got into Macy’s background. We got nothing on the guy, right? Get it out for me, will you?’
‘Sure. But we got nothing beyond the hospital records.’
‘Then we’re going to have to look again. I need to know if he’s got relatives. Anyone at all. Can you go back to the beginning with him? You know, starting with where the bastard was conceived?’
‘It’ll take me a little time, but head back over here and I’ll try to have it ready for you.’
‘I’ll see you in twenty,’ said Harper.