March 15, 9.05 a.m.
Harper stood outside the home of Martin Heming and stared at the street. What had they missed? He had nothing from the research on the memorabilia. He walked down the rundown street, looking for a clue as to why these people formed their sick little hate groups. As he reached the subway, he got a call from the Hate Crime Unit.
‘It’s Jack here. How are you, Harper?’
‘I’m out on a limb, Jack. I guess you heard about the operation.’
‘I’m down with Heming’s body now. I heard all right. We’re hoping there’s something on him.’
‘Been there already, I got nothing. Shit, Jack, I went out without authorization last night.’
‘You got to do what you got to do.’
‘That’s okay if it works,’ said Harper. ‘But if it doesn’t?’
‘You got Heming, that’s got to weaken the killer’s position.’
‘That’s true.’
‘No right-hand man to help him out.’
‘No.’
‘Did you see the other guy? See anything at all?’
‘No,’ said Harper. ‘I got nothing.’
Carney’s voice lowered slightly. ‘Listen, Harper, don’t get all fucked up. You tried to find something on Heming. After you left, they did get something. He had a cell phone without a SIM card, right?’
‘That’s right.’
‘We found the SIM card.’
‘Where was it?’
‘In his right sock.’
‘Shit, does it tell you anything?’
‘I think we might have something here, yes.’
‘What have you got?’
‘Heming is the key to finding the killer,’ said Carney.
‘And Lucy and Abby,’ said Harper.
‘Well, Heming must’ve been with the killer, with him in his lair, right?’
‘Right.’
‘With the SIM we can see who he called. We can even get a location on the phone’s position. We can locate where he was when he made the calls.’
‘That’s fucking great, Jack. What have you got?’
‘We’ve got several locations, but the most promising is a set of garages. I’m heading over now to do a drive-by and a little surveillance. You in?’
‘We should get Blue Team and SWAT.’
‘You are Blue Team, Harper. We’ve got the Hate Crime Unit, so we’re not alone. But we can’t be sure he was with the killer, so let’s take a look at this before we call in the cavalry. You don’t want another botch-up, do you? And I certainly don’t.’
‘What’s the address?’
Carney gave him the street name. ‘There is no number for the garages. It’s just a row of dilapidated real estate. There’s a garage on the corner, we’re going to meet up there and see how the land lies.’
‘I’ll be there,’ said Harper.