“I have to go,” he said. “I need to go to work.”
Aleister disappeared down the street, and Ella returned to her office. She pulsed with so much excitement she forgot to pick her coffee back up. She vaulted up the stairs, through the precinct and back into her office.
“Nigel,” Ella said as she arrived back. “Let’s do your idea. Can we get the records of every crime relating to coins or debt in the past twenty years?”
“Woah,” Byford said, “hold on a minute. You said that would take too long.”
“I did, but I’m backtracking. It’s a good idea and I know how we can narrow it down.”
Byford clicked away on his laptop. “I’ve still got the save file the sheriff sent me. I can execute it again. How do we narrow it down?”
Ella hunched over Byford’s screen as he navigated for the file. “Aleister just caught me while I was outside.”
“He’s still here?”
“He went and came back, but he told me that a lot of coin collectors obtain mint sets from their birth years, especially older ones. He said that our unsub must be born in 1964. He said it was something to do with the collector mindset. But to be honest, I think there’s another reason Aleister thought that.”
“Because that’s what Aleister would do if he was this killer,” Byford said.
It was like he read her mind. “Exactly what went through my head.”
“Maybe we are in sync after all. Here are the results.”
Endless columns of data flashed up Byford’s laptop, all in text barely big enough to comprehend. The tally in the bottom left corner said there were 3,426 results. “That’s a lot, but let’s break it down by perpetrators born in 1964.”
Byford scrolled around the screen looking for the filter options. “Your patience is required,” he said. “I don’t know this system. There, found you.” He typed in the information.
The 3,426 reduced to 32. The results showed crimes that involved coins, however minimal or trivial. It could have been crimes committed for financial gain or a pensioner beaten to death with a bag of pennies. Ella wasn’t going to dive into each individual case until she was sure they’d exhausted all their filter options.
“Better, but still a lot. How can we narrow it down further?” Byford asked.
“We’re looking for a white male who lives or works within ten miles of the first crime scene. Zip code 19711. An unsub like this wouldn’t stray far away from familiar territory, especially for his first murder.”
Byford followed Ella’s lead. “Done. Any more?” Thirteen results disappeared, leaving 19 in place.
“He would have started small, minor issues like disorderly behavior. He may have been diagnosed with mental health issues from a young age.”
Byford ticked and unticked boxes, filled in keywords and clicked around the database with painful slowness. “Sorry I’m taking my time. I don’t want to screw this up.” He clicked the execute button and the results dropped to 3. “Bang, and the dirt is gone,” he exclaimed.
Three. That was as good as it was going to get, Ella thought. It would be different if she was divulging a simple psychological profile for a recent murder, but she was looking for crimes that had been committed any time in the past two decades. It made it all the more difficult to determine the necessary filters.
“Let’s dive in. What’s the first one?”
Byford pulled up the first name and read the notes. “Vincent Jones. He killed a woman in the street and stole a quarter from her purse. This was in 2006.”
“Not our man. Our killer is only targeting men, plus he stole something from the scene rather than leaving something behind.”
Byford clicked off and went into the next name. “Adrian Neville. 2011. Killed a man by accident when he flicked a quarter off the top of River Tower. Definitely not,” Byford said and clicked back.
Ella’s breathing doubled in speed. Last name on the list. If this wasn’t a hit, it was back to the drawing board. “Final contestant, come on down.”
Byford loaded up the screen. The first words Ella saw were suspected homicide.
“Hey, this is more like it,” said Byford. “I think we could have something.”
Ella glided through the report, forming a picture of this potential suspect in a matter of seconds. His name was Kevin Steen, but he was a different category of criminal from the other suspects.
“Goddamn. He’s a professional thief,” Ella said.
“Looks damn well like it. Check this part out.” Byford moved his cursor. “He burglarized an antique shop in 2016. Then a few days later, the owner was murdered. Pretty suspicious.”
“You’re not kidding. Looks like he only stole rare coins too. Can you check his last known whereabouts?”
Byford dug into Steen’s current status. “He was in prison for robbery until…,” he stopped mid-sentence. Ella finished it for him.
“Last month.” They exchanged a look that said the same thing. “Holy crap. We need to check with this guy’s parole officer. Can you get his details?”
“One sec,” Byford said. Ella grabbed her phone and opened up her keypad. Byford read out the number she needed. Ella dialed it.
One ring.
Two.
“Hello, Community Services Probation and Aftercare, Julia speaking, how can I help?”
“Hi, my name’s Agent Dark with the FBI. I need to speak with a…,” Ella glanced at Byford, realizing she hadn’t got the officer’s name she needed.
“Kathy Starks,” Byford mouthed.
“Miss Kathy Starks,” Ella repeated. “It’s about a parolee under her care.”
“One moment please,” the receptionist said. The line went silent, then symphonic music fizzled through. The volume dynamic was completely off.
Another voice joined the line a second later. “Hello, this is P.O. Starks.”
“Hi, Miss Starks,” Ella side. “My name’s Agent Dark with the FBI, designation C131. May I talk with you about a parolee of yours named Kevin Steen?”
“Mr. Steen is currently missing, Agent. Do you have information on his whereabouts?”
“Missing?” she asked. She directed the comment towards Byford as much as her new friend on the phone.
“Yes Agent, Mr. Steen didn’t report for his last parole check. We’ve attempted to track him down with no success. What is it you need to know?”
“We believe Mr. Steen may be responsible for a series of murders throughout Newark. Do you believe he would be capable of that?”
Kathy Starks hesitated for a moment. “I’m afraid I couldn’t comment in a professional capacity. Could you do me a small favor, please Agent Dark? Could you call me on my cell phone? I’m having trouble hearing you down this line.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
Kathy recited the number then hung up. Ella dialed the new number as she looked at Nigel in confusion.
“Weird. She asked me to call her cell,” Ella said.
“Did she say he was missing?” Byford asked.
Her call connected. The same voice picked up on the other side. “Hello, Agent Dark?”
“Hi, can you hear me better now?”