It was the third time Richard had boarded the southbound Red Line since late Friday night, and it would be the last time for the foreseeable future. He wouldn’t return to the Ninety-Fifth Street terminal again until the police investigation died down, but he needed the picture of the bloodstained sidewalk to add to his collection. Once that was taken, he’d be good to move on to a different subway route. He never murdered at the same exit more than twice a year, and there were plenty of lines and stops to last him for quite some time.
Passengers had just exited at Eighty-Seventh Street, and the train jerked as it picked up speed. His stop was next. He would walk a different route to South Prairie—it was the prudent thing to do. When the doors parted, Richard exited the train, and once he moved away from the sea of people, he stared at his phone’s map. He’d take East Ninety-Fourth to South Indiana and turn right. After crossing East Ninety-Fifth and continuing on, he would reach East Ninety-Sixth a block later. There, he’d make a left and then another left a block later on South Prairie, where he’d cut north again. Once he reached the bloodstain, he’d have his phone ready to snap off a quick picture without stopping—just in case someone was watching.
With his route chosen, Richard started for the exit. He stopped when he saw two men coming his way. They were dressed in typical cop garb—cheap sport jacket with casual pants, and each wearing a badge at his waistband. He nonchalantly took a seat on a bench as if he was waiting for the next northbound train. His eyes were laser focused on the cops, what they were doing, and where they went next. He discreetly aimed his phone at them as they neared, and he snapped off several pictures of their faces. They passed Richard, apparently none the wiser. He stood and followed them but far enough back that they wouldn’t notice.
That’s interesting. They just walked through the security room door. Going to check the footage, are you? It’s obvious you suspect somebody that rode the train with Callie. Good thing I always cover my tracks.
After leaving the station, Richard walked the route he had in mind. Cops could be scouring Callie’s neighborhood again, and he’d have to be vigilant in keeping an eye out for them once he got closer.
At Ninety-Fifth Street, he looked both ways before crossing, and since he didn’t see anyone who looked like a cop, he continued his southbound route. Less than ten minutes later, Richard made his final turn onto South Prairie. His heartbeat increased dramatically when he passed the brick duplex where Callie had lived, according to what was stated on her driver’s license, and the feeling was exhilarating. Nothing at the house appeared out of the ordinary, and nobody who looked suspicious was milling around.
One more block to go, and I’ll be back at the spot where it happened. If only I could relive that moment again every day, all day long. What a thrill that would be.
Richard recognized the building ahead. It was the one he’d hid against while waiting for Callie to pass. He was almost there. He looked both ways before stepping off the curb and crossing the street. As soon as he reached the other side, he saw it—a darkened stain on the sidewalk, more than a foot wide with smears and droplets surrounding it. He wanted to linger and take it in, but he knew that would be dangerous. He slowed his pace, readied his phone, and snapped several pictures as he passed. Looking at the pictures was the only way he could savor the memories of the night he took Callie’s life.
I’ll go home, print them out, and enjoy them over a glass of wine.
Richard shielded his eyes and scanned the street as he turned left. Ninety-Fifth was the main commercial street leading to the terminal, and plenty of people walked to and from the station at that time of day. He spotted them right away. Another pair of cops had just exited the fast-food joint on the north side of the street and were walking toward him. He could barely contain himself. The irony was nearly more than he could take, and he wanted to laugh. Cops scoured the streets and the terminal looking for him, yet there he was in plain sight. He turned around, set his phone to selfie mode, and caught the two cops coming up behind him. He planned to enlarge the photo later to see if he could find them on the PD’s website. To stay in the game for the long haul, Richard needed to be one step ahead of the police at all times.
Obviously, you fools have nothing. I thought by now, somebody would have viewed the footage of the subway car Callie was in last night, but I must be wrong. I stood only two feet from her, and now you’re walking toward me, and my face doesn’t ring a bell. I guess I’m getting better and better at this as time goes on.
Pleased with himself, Richard turned around and faced the cops then gave them a head tip as they passed by. He looked back and stared as they continued on.
That big guy reminds me of Ronald. I definitely need to find out who he is.
At the station, he rode the Red Line north to Jackson then boarded the Blue Line that went northwest to O’Hare. He would watch the stops to see where the most women got off, and then he’d exit and scout out the area. That was where he’d kill his next victim on Monday and he couldn’t wait.