When he heard the train and felt the whoosh of wind preceding it as it bore through the tunnel, Richard stood. Once the train stopped and the doors opened, he would grab a seat. It was something to do since boredom had begun to creep in. He intended to watch for those men into the late hours of the night, and sooner or later, he’d find one or both of them. At dinnertime, he’d exit again and grab a hot dog from the vendor in the station and continue to watch from the platform.
He rode until five thirty and spotted that redhead who’d exited at the California Street stop the previous night.
I’ll get to you soon enough, you little tramp. You can count on it.
After getting off the train at Grand Avenue again, Richard sat with eyes on every doorway and ate two hot dogs and an order of waffle fries. He watched for twenty minutes before standing when another train approached. He climbed aboard, grabbed the pole nearest the door, then realized how full the train was. As more people squeezed in, he saw what looked to be the white guy exiting the car ahead of his.
“Excuse me, please. Move aside. I’ve boarded the wrong train.”
As the doors began to close, Richard gave them a shoulder hit, which caused them to automatically spread apart again. He jumped out, scanned the crowd, and saw the man heading toward the street exit.
“Gotcha.”
He caught up and slowed his pace as the man made a pit stop at the restroom. Richard found a strategic location against a nearby wall that would give him a close-up look at the guy when he walked out. He pulled up the sketch on his phone then waited for the man to leave. Several minutes later, the man exited the bathroom and passed within four feet of Richard.
Yep, that’s you. I’ve got you dead to rights, and soon enough, you’ll be dead.
Richard pushed off the wall and walked step for step about ten feet behind the man, and he wasn’t about to lose him once he headed outside. Turning south on Halstead, Richard heard the man talking on his phone, which was always a good distraction. The easiest way to go unnoticed was when someone was preoccupied with their cell phone, and it worked to Richard’s advantage every time.
People are just stupid and live in a bubble of false security when they’re on the phone. They think that person on the other end can somehow rescue them if something happens, which is the furthest thing from the truth.
A block down Halstead, the man turned right onto West Hubbard. Richard maintained his distance but stayed within eyeshot of him. They passed North Green and North Peoria, where the woman was killed, then the man made a right on North Sangamon Street. Richard held back at the corner and watched from a distance. With the street dead-ending only four buildings down, he didn’t want to be seen turning that way behind the man. He was still within Richard’s view.
There you go. Looks like you went up the sidewalk of the last building.
Once he’d lost the visual of the man, Richard jogged ahead but stayed on the opposite side of the street. The door closed just as he reached the brick walk-up. Cloaked in the shadows from the setting sun, Richard checked the time—6:12. A first-floor light facing the street came on, and that same man, visible through the window, was in what looked to be the kitchen.
Good. Now I know where you live, and I’ll be watching for your buddy too. Think of the money I’ll save the taxpayers by reducing the police department’s workload. I can do their job, and I don’t even need a salary. It’ll be my pleasure to kill both of you.
Richard crept closer and took a picture of the house and the address number of the lower unit, then he returned to the dark side of the street, where he found a stoop to sit on and wait. He needed to know when that man, or both men, came and went so he could plan their demise.
He jumped at the sound. Richard woke from his unintentional nap and heard what could have been keys jangling. He squinted at the brick house across the street, and the ponytailed man stepped up to the porch. A grin spread across Richard’s face as he checked the time—12:22 a.m. It had to be the Hispanic guy, and since he had his own set of keys, that meant the two men were roommates. One more time, that same light came on, confirming the fact that they lived together in the lower unit.
Killing you will be easy under the veil of darkness, but I have to come up with something for that first guy. I need to kill him inside the house where there aren’t any witnesses. It’s the only way. Nobody will know he’s dead, and then I’ll get my chance with you tomorrow night.
Satisfied for the time being, Richard returned to the subway and rode it to his exit. He would go back to the house tomorrow and wait for the first guy to show up, then Richard would take his life.