find a gun?"
"What about the neighbors?" Bragg asked. "Did Terry get on all right with them?"
"We don't see much of them on either side," she said. "The Smiths have got two little kids and they both work, so they're gone early in the mornings, and all weekends it's football and gymnastics and that kind of thing."
"And the other side?"
"They're a snooty couple. Hardly say two words when you pass them. I think they're both supposed to be very brainy. She's a librarian, I know that, and he's in some kind of research. Not our kind at all."
"Mrs. Owens," Bragg said quietly, "I want you to think back to when you went out this morning. Did you notice anything unusual on your street? Any strange cars parked; anybody standing around watching?"
Megan Owens screwed up her face in concentration. "No," she said. "The street was deserted, except the lady who has twins was pushing them in a stroller. She waved when I went past. She seems nice."
"So no strange cars?"
"Wait a minute. There was some kind of van, parked down at the other end of the crescent. TV repair, maybe?"
"What color?" Evan asked.
"Gray? With bright green letters? I'm sorry, I really didn't pay too much attention to it. You don't, do you?"
"And when you returned?" Bragg asked. "Did you see any cars driving away? Anything unusual then?"
"No, but I wasn't paying attention. All I could think of was getting home with those eggs so that Terry wouldn't yell at me."
"He did a lot of yelling, did he?" Evan asked.
"These days. Like I said, he was so stressed that the least little thing upset him. So I tried to make everything run as smoothly as possible."
"Right, Mrs. Owens." Bragg straightened up. "I think that will do for now. Do you want to call your mother and go over to her place? It would probably be best. Just as long as you give us the address and phone number so that we know where to find you."
She nodded passively. "All right. I'll phone her," she said, chewing on her lip like a small child. "I'll come down. The phone's in the front hall."
Chapter 22
"What do you think, lads?" Bragg asked, as they regrouped back at headquarters with a cup of coffee and a sandwich. It was from the canteen this time, pale gray liquid that could be described at best as sweet and hot. "Three murders in one week. As far as we can tell, all three victims shot with the same weapon. Is it possible that we're dealing with a serial killer?"
"If so, it's an odd kind of serial killer," Wingate said. "Not the sort of person we hear about usually."
"Why is that, Wingate?"
"I don't think I've ever come across a serial killer who targets men, for one thing," Wingate said. "I mean a true serial killer, not a hit man who kills who he's paid to kill. Don't they always kill women? Like a sexual fantasy?"
"Not necessarily," Evan said. "Remember that bloke in America? He lured young gay men to his place and then killed them. What was his name? Dahlmer?"
Bragg's eyes lit up with interest. "Is that the connection, do you think? That all of these men were secretly gay?"
The four men stared at each other, digesting this suggestion.
Evan opened his mouth to say that this theory was ridiculous. Luckily Wingate voiced it first.
"It would have to be very secretly gay," Wingate said, "because there's been no hint of it from anyone we've talked to."
"Well, in the case of Martin Rogers, he had his reputation to consider, didn't he? And both Luigi Alessi and Terry Owens were blustering types who came across as one of the lads." Bragg slapped his hand on the table. "Right, so we've got a new line of inquiry. Wingate-gay bars, gay clubs in the area. List of members. Take photos with you-see if anyone recognizes any of our three victims."
"I wouldn't mind going back to the university again," Evan said. "We've got three men on that faculty who are unmarried. There's just a possibility that one of them is that way inclined and could have had a relationship with Professor Rogers."
"Just because a young man is unmarried, doesn't mean he's gay, Evans," Bragg said. "Look at Wingate and Pritchard here, healthy, red-blooded males, the two of them. Even I am not married. I can assure you there is nothing queer about me!"
"I wasn't hinting that they were necessarily that way," Evan said, feeling his hackles rising.