FOLLOW THE LEADER - Chapter 31

 


Chapter 31


My investigation was stalled.  I had the eerie feeling that there had been a key bit of evidence I had missed somehow. Or maybe not. Maybe I had seen it but didn’t understand its connection.

Back to the beginning. Back to the Murder Book.

For once, Colin agreed with me.

“Your hunches are often right,” he said. “But meet me later this time. Seven, seven-thirty, tonight, when Slim and Shorty won’t be around.”

“How about your office this time?”

“Fine.”
The invitation was pleasant enough, but I would never feel comfortable in a cop shop, particularly the City’s. After all, I spent the worst night of my life in their cell.


I took Muni to the Powell Street station. From there I walked up Powell and took the first right, which was Ellis. John’s Grill sat just ahead, still there after ninety-plus years. I said hello to John, who remembered me. 

The bar was busy, as usual, but the bartender remembered me too. “Where you been hiding, Kelly?”

         “Here and there. How are things?”

         “Same old, same old. The usual?”

         I nodded. “But make it a double.”

Thus fortified I struck out for the police station on Seventh. It was a long walk, but I had much to think about.

As Colin had promised, the Homicide department was empty. I sat down with him at his desk and we got right to it.

         I scrutinized the grizzly photos of Katherine Rollins again and again. The letters L K meant something. Perhaps they were the killer’s initials.  Since the murders were all committed by women, there was a Lorraine Something or Lynne Something out there. Miss L. Maybe.

It wasn’t just the initials. Something else was troubling me. 

I flipped to the page that showed the surrounding area. Unlike the leafy streets in the city, this part of Cole Street was barren of trees.  Maybe the city planners figured that people could just walk north to the “Panhandle,” which was one long park. I doubted that. Notplanting would have been easier.

“There!” I said.

I pointed to a photo of an apartment house, an old split-level.

“That’s the wrong house,” said Colin. “She was found right here.”

He pointed to the bigger building on our right.

“That’s not it,” I said. “There’s something hinky about the other one. I’ve seen that house before.”

“An old girlfriend?” 

“No.”

“Maybe you were inside it once. When you were little.”

I shook my head.

“Ring any bells for you?” I asked.

“No.”

 “In all likelihood, neither of us has been there or gone inside, or whatever. It’s like I saw it in the newspaper. Or maybe on TV.”

Colin yawned.

“Long day?”

“Yeah. Is there anything else?”

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