“He had nav on his phone,” McAdams said to Decker.
Decker nodded. “So, Bertram could see the bus move on the phone.”
“The bus wasn’t on the phone. Just the arrow.”
McAdams said, “I know this is a funny question, but do you remember the color of the arrow?”
“I think it was blue.”
“Probably Waze.”
Colette looked at the clock. “I need to be in the library to stamp the books.”
Decker said, “That’s an important job.”
“No, it isn’t. But I like the library. I like books. I can read, you know.”
“It’s excellent to read,” McAdams said. “Best way to learn about things.”
The woman pinkened. “Thank you.”
Decker stood up. “Thank you, Colette. You helped us a lot.”
“I’m glad.” She got up from the bed and put the stuffed panda back on her chair. A smile. “Bye.”
“Bye,” the men said in unison. They walked a few dozen feet down the hall and then McAdams said, “To use any kind of nav, you have to know how to open an app.”
“First, you have to have the app. Why would a developmentally disabled man who didn’t drive—who didn’t even ride a bicycle—have Waze on his phone?”
“Someone put it there. The question is for what purpose? To teach him how to escape?”
“Don’t know,” Decker said. “Whatever the reasons, the intentions don’t look good.”
Chapter 6
Seated shotgun, McAdams had a cup of coffee in one hand and a phone in the other. The ride was going to take a little time. He had plugged his cell into an adapter that fit in the cigarette lighter charger. No chance of running out of juice, but Decker’s car was antiquated. “Know what this car needs? Wi-Fi.”
“In my car?”
“Yes, Rabbi, it is now possible to have Wi-Fi in your car.”
“It’ll probably be as useful as my home Wi-Fi—which is always going out.”
“Why don’t you upgrade?”
“I’m not paying more for something I rarely use. If it’s work-related, I use the computers at the station house.”
“Well, you’re not at the station house, so I repeat. Get Wi-Fi for the car.”
“What on earth for?”
“For things like right now. My phone is using towers, which eats up battery life.”
“But you’re charging your phone, so what do you care about battery life?”
“You’re always asking me to look stuff up. I could use my pad instead of my phone. It’s easier to read things on my tablet.”
“I’m not getting Wi-Fi for a car.”
“Your grandkids could watch Netflix on their pads if you had it.”
“Bringing my grandkids into this inane discussion is a low blow. Look up the case on your phone. Or don’t look it up. It’ll keep until we get to the station house.”
“No need to get peeved, Old Man, it was just a suggestion.”
Decker was silent. McAdams shrugged. Within a few moments he found what he needed and read from his phone. “The missing boys—Zeke Anderson, Max Velasquez, and Bennett McCrae—they lived in the same dorm and went missing in mid-October during Parents’ Weekend ten years ago. There was a massive search.” He continued scanning the article. “The rest is filled with quotes from students and friends, a couple of TAs and several professors.”
“That’s good. It gives us a start on who to interview.”
“It was ten years ago.”
“I’m sure they remember the incident. Anything illuminating in the quotes?”
“Not really: they’re shocked, they don’t know what happened, they don’t know why it happened, they weren’t the types to attract bad people, whatever that means.”
“Any quotes from girlfriends?”
McAdams kept reading. “Don’t see anything.”
“Call Kevin at the station house and ask him to search for TV footage.”
“Sure. Want to see a picture of them?”
“I have to pull over. Any distinguishing features?”
“Zeke Anderson was Caucasian with a beard. Max Velasquez also looked Caucasian. He wore glasses and looked stunned in this head shot. Bennett McCrae was Black—good-looking. I don’t know if any of them were tattooed, but if they were, it’s no doubt in the file along with dental records.”
“Any description of the clothing that they wore on the day of the disappearance?”
“Nope. The only detail related about the case is when they left—late Thursday afternoon. They told people they’d be back for class on Monday. By the following Wednesday, people started getting concerned.” McAdams thought a moment. “Who camps in these woods at that time of year? It can dip below freezing at night in mid-October.”
“Yeah, it could be a cover story,” Decker said.
“I’ll call Kevin. That way we’ll have the footage when we get back.” It was a ten-minute conversation. McAdams disconnected the line and said, “Update. Kev thinks the remains belong to Zeke Anderson from a fabric remnant: red-and-green plaid. Anderson had several red-and-green plaid shirts. Plaid is pretty much a staple item of clothing in Greenbury. But there were handfuls of coarse hair around his mandible.”
“Facial hair that fell off when his flesh decomposed.”
McAdams nodded. His phone rang. Tyler listened and said, “Sergeant, can I put you on speaker so Detective Decker can hear what you have to say? Thanks.” He pressed a button. “Okay. You’re on speaker.”
“This is Sergeant Quay from the Baniff Police Department.”
“Detective Peter Decker here. Thanks for calling back. We were in Baniff investigating a Missing Persons case: a man named Bertram Lanz who lives at Loving Care. He disappeared in our jurisdiction in Greenbury, New York.”
“Yes, I understand.”
McAdams said, “Could you please repeat what you told me, Sergeant, about Elsie Schulung’s house?”
A low, raspy voice said, “Everything appeared to be in order. We looked through windows, checked the doors, and did a once-over around back. Nothing seemed out of place. There’s mail in her outdoor box. About four days’ worth, I’d say. A few local flyers were left at the front door. There’s a window in the garage, and it’s covered. I could peek under the bottom of the shade, but I couldn’t see enough to tell if a car was parked there. I’ll get the make and model from DMV. I will say this. It’s a nice time of year to take a little time off, especially if you recently quit your job.”
McAdams mouthed, “I told him that.”
Decker nodded. “Of course. And since she had mail, she obviously didn’t forward it anywhere. But she didn’t stop delivery either.”
“Not that unusual. Most of it is bulk stuff. It looks to me like she took off for a little R and R.”
“Nothing else seemed suspicious?”
“Other than the mail, no. We called out, announced ourselves, but no one answered. No lights were on, and the AC appears to be turned off. There were no weird odors coming from the inside of the house. No flies buzzing around. I don’t have any reason to break down a door and do a welfare check.”