Our hands were tied.”
Drex flipped back the folds and scanned the warrant. “CID detectives were sent to handle this piddling misdemeanor shit?”
“Rudkowski figured that we would see you before anyone else could find you.”
“I can’t believe it,” Talia said.
“I can,” Drex said. “The man’s pettiness knows no bounds. He’ll put his one-sided rivalry above catching a man who would walk up behind a defenseless woman and break her neck.”
“Can he put you in jail?” Talia said.
Locke answered for Drex. “We don’t have to be in any rush to get him there.”
“Thanks for that.” Drex stood up and began to roam restlessly. “The thing is, the resentful jerk has effectively hobbled me. Now, when a single hour could make all the difference. Jasper may decide that Talia’s fortune and/or her life aren’t worth the risk of being captured. He’ll choose to disappear as he has before.
“Or, he could decide that he’s enjoying this killing spree and continue it in a frenzy until he’s finally treed. He would actually get off on that kind of notoriety. I guarantee you that wherever he is, he’s watching all the TV stories about the woman he killed last night. He’s feeling very proud of himself. The celebrity status fuels his ego, and when he’s good and stoked, he’ll act again.”
“Let’s hope not.”
“You’re not listening, Locke.” Drex returned to the table and, bracing on his hands, leaned in. “He’s beyond hope. Remember the Chi Omega sorority house? Bundy killed those girls, and minutes later attacked another only a few blocks away. Jasper is thumbing his nose at us in that same fashion. He proved it last night. He committed a random murder for no other reason except that he felt like it and wanted to yank my chain. The attack on Gif had to be spontaneous, because there’s no way he could have planned it.
“That kind of footloose violence may not make you nervous, but it scares the crap out of me. If he kills somebody else, you, Menundez, Rudkowski may be able to sleep nights, but I won’t.
“And if he says to hell with it, leaves the area, gets away, I’ll never get another crack at him, because now he knows me. From now on, he’ll be looking for me over his shoulder and will see me coming.”
He gave a hard shake of his head. “This is the time. We’ve got to stop him now. We’ve got to catch him plying his trade. We’ve got to catch him with those goddamn souvenir buttons in his possession.”
“Okay. I get it,” Locke said, returning some of Drex’s ire. “But you’ve been trying for years. We’ve been at it for two days. Any ideas?”
Drex yielded to the detective’s frustration. It matched his own. “No.”
Pushing away from the table, he walked through the living area to the far side of it and shoved open the panels of drapery. Outside, it continued to drizzle. For days now the skies had refused to clear. However, if it were sunny, Drex would resent it. The dreariness befitted the circumstances.
Behind him, Talia explained to the detectives the situation Mike was in. In cop-speak they answered her questions about the investigation into Sara Barker’s murder.
Drex listened to the conversation with one ear, latching onto key words, but tuning out the minutiae. Most of it was irrelevant, anyway. They weren’t going to apprehend Jasper using textbook police procedure.
In order to catch him, one couldn’t think like a cop. One had to think like him.
He asked himself if he were Jasper, if he were in Jasper’s situation, what would he do? What ploy would he use? A switchback? A prank? An irony? What would be the ultimate joke?
In a blinding instant, he had an inspiration.
He returned to the table, got on Locke’s laptop, pulled up the freeze-frame, and was immediately annoyed by its limitations. “Is the rest of the video on here?”
The question caught Locke in mid-sentence. He fell silent and looked at Drex, who continued with impatience, “The minutes leading up to and right after Gif was attacked. Are they on this laptop?”
“No. The video was jerky. Hard to tell up from down, so I just downloaded that freeze-frame. The whole of it is back at the department.”
“I need to see it. Right now. Have someone email it.”
Neither detective moved, their reluctance evident.
“What?” Drex said. “Earlier you offered to email it to me yourself.”
“That was before this.” Locke flicked his hand at the arrest warrant. “We could get into real Dutch by sending you evidence