hand on Lounds's shoulder just before Crawford clicked the shutter.
The interview and pictureswere set to appear in the Tattler published the next day, Monday, August 11. As soon as he had the material, Lounds left forChicago. He said he wanted to supervise the layout himself. He made arrangements to meet Crawford on Tuesday afternoon five blocksfrom the trap.
Starting Tuesday, when the Tattler became generally available, two traps would be baited for the monster.
Graham would go each evening to his "temporary residence" shown in the Tattler picture.
A coded personal notice in the same issue invited the Tooth Fairy to a mail drop inAnnapoliswatched around the clock. If he were suspicious of the mail drop, he might think the effort to catch him was concentrated there. Then Graham would be a more appealling target, the FBI reasoned.
Floridaauthorities provided a stillwatch at Sugarloaf Key.
There was an air of dissatisfaction among the hunters - two major stakeouts took manpower that could be used elsewhere, and Graham's presence at the trap each night would limit his movement to theWashingtonarea.
Though Crawford's judgment told him this was the best move, the whole procedure was too passive for his taste. He felt they were playing games with themselves in the dark of the moon with less than two weeks to go before it rose full again.
Sunday and Monday passed in curiously jerky time. The minutes dragged and the hours flew.
* * *
Spurgen, chief SWAT instructor atQuantico, circled the apartment block on Monday afternoon. Graham rode beside him. Crawford was in the back seat.
"The pedestrian traffic falls off around seven-fifteen. Everybody's settled in for dinner," Spurgen said. With his wiry, compact body and his baseball cap tipped back on his head, he looked like an infielder. "Give us a toot on the clear band tomorrow night when you cross the B&O railroad tracks. You ought to try to make it about eight-thirty, eight-forty or so."
He pulled into the apartment parking lot. "This setup ain't heaven, but it could be worse. You'll park here tomorrow night. We'll change the space you use every night after that, but it'll always be on this side. It's seventy-five yards to the apartment entrance. Let's walk it."
Spurgen, short and bandy-legged, went ahead of Graham and Crawford.
He's looking for places where he could get the bad hop, Graham thought.
"The walk is probably where it'll happen, if it happens," the SWAT leader said. "See, from here the direct line from your car to the entrance, the natural route, is across the center of the lot. It's as far as you can get from the line of cars that are here all day. He'll have to come across open asphalt to get close. How well do you hear?"
"Pretty well," Graham said. "Damn well on this parking lot."
Spurgen looked for something in Graham's face, found nothing he could recognize.
He stopped in the middle of the lot. "We're reducing the wattage on these streetlights a little to make it tougher on a rifleman."
"Tougher on your people too," Crawford said.
"Two of ours have Startron night scopes," Spurgen said. "I've got some clear spray I'll ask you to use on your suit jackets, Will. By the way, I don't care how hot it is, you will wear body armor each and every time. Correct?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"It's Kevlar - what, Jack? - Second Chance?"
"Second Chance," Crawford said.
"It's pretty likely he'll come up to you, probably from behind, or he may figure on meeting you and then turning around to shoot when he's passed you," Spurgen said. "Seven times he's gone for the head shot, right? He's seen that work. He'll do it with you too if you give him the time. Don't give him the time. After I show you a couple of things in the lobby and the flop, let's go to the range. Can you do that?"
"He can do that," Crawford said.
Spurgen was high priest on the range. He made Graham wear earplugs under the earmuffs and flashed targets at him from every angle. He was relieved to see that Graham did not carry the regulation .38, but he worried about the flash from the ported barrel. They worked for two hours. The man insisted on checking the cylinder crane and cylinder latch screws on Graham's .44 when he had finished firing.
Graham showered and changed clothes to get the smell of gun-smoke off him before he drove to the bay for his last free night with Molly and Willy.
He took his wife and stepson to the grocery store after dinner