Patience. A difficult thing to have when waiting for something to happen, when you know it is going to happen and even when it will happen. Mac must have looked at his watch every thirty seconds since Knapp left the van. Radio chatter quieted. Mac noticed a light go on upstairs. Bradley was now up working the books, putting the money in the safe for tomorrow’s deposit.
At 2:15 a.m., per normal routine, Sheila Bradley left. She was well aware of what was going on with her little sister. She had been told to drive way away and not hang around. Everything needed to look normal. It seemed like an hour since she’d left. It had been five minutes. Upstairs, Linda Bradley, Mac knew, would be sliding on a neck brace with Long’s assistance.
At 2:42 a.m., Mac’s earpiece cracked with Long’s voice. “She’s heading down now.”
Mac and Lich moved to the left side of the garage door window, close to the back door. They were glued to the window, not that it did much good. They couldn’t see a thing.
Office building: “Knapp has moved to the edge of the gap.”
Mac whispered to Lich, “Alarm won’t go off when we open the back door?”
Lich, for the fifth time, “Nope, disarmed.” He was twirling the keys to the van in his hands. He’d be in the van if Knapp ran.
Long: “She’s at the back door.”
Mac left the window and went to the back door, hand on the knob, staring at the floor, waiting for the word.
Office building: “She’s opening the door … she’s turned her back, putting the key in the lock.”
As Mac heard it told later, as she put the key into the knob, Knapp sprung from the gap. He was on her in an instant. The key was still in the lock, and the force of his attack on her had snapped it off. Riley and Long were trapped inside.
Office building: “Go! Go! Go! He’s on her! … He’s on her!…”
Mac bolted out the back door, sprinting across Arundel, leaving Lich behind. He heard Riley in his right earpiece. “The door’s jammed. We can’t get out! We can’t get out! Go, go, go …”
Chaos.
As he was sprinting across Arundel, Mac heard a voice yell out, “Freeze, police.” As he hit the grass between the street and sidewalk he saw a black blur to his left sprinting out of the parking lot north on Arundel. Knapp. Mac instinctively planted his left foot to turn, but it gave out underneath him as he slipped on the snow. He fell hard onto the cement sidewalk, jarring his left shoulder. He pushed himself right up and gave chase.
He heard his earpiece blurt. “He’s north on Arundel. All units converge.”
Falcon dropped from nowhere out of the sky, the spotlight searching for Knapp.
Mac was running north and gaining speed. He saw Knapp sprinting north on Arundel, just about to pass the alley on the block between Sherburne and Charles Streets, when the lights appeared and the sirens sounded, closing rapidly from the north on Arundel. Knapp stopped abruptly and turned left, ninety degrees into the alley, slipping on the wet street, but catching himself with his left hand. He’d lost some momentum. Knapp turned down the alley, throwing a couple of garbage cans into the way.
Mac, at full speed now, half a block behind Knapp, turned left to the sidewalk on the north side of Sherburne, sprinting hard, parallel to the alley, looking to his right through the houses, not able to see Knapp but getting a general fix from Falcon’s spotlight. He wanted to cut to his right, get to the alley, but there were too many fences, bushes. He kept running, looking right. Another house. Then a break, a clean shot through to the alley. Mac veered right. As he crossed the back of the house he saw Knapp running peripherally to his right, with Falcon’s light painting him. Knapp, sensing things closing, abruptly veered right between two houses on the other side of the alley, losing some speed but also losing the spotlight from Falcon.
Mac, flying, stayed dead straight, on a beeline to the other side of the house, rapidly closing the gap. He lost Knapp briefly behind the house but picked him up around the front, to his right. Mac had the angle on Knapp, as if he was running along the sideline of a football field. Knapp looked back over his right shoulder for pursuers. He didn’t see Mac coming from his left.
Mac didn’t break stride down the incline to the sidewalk. Knapp, coming from his right, ran behind a parked car. Mac burst in front of the car and at full speed, drilled the serial killer, ran through him, with his right shoulder, a textbook tackle. The tackle took Knapp off his feet and drove him into the pavement, with Mac rolling over him and landing with his back against a parked car, his head slamming into a tire. Dazed, his head pounding, Mac could see Knapp five feet away, starting to push himself up. Mac told his body to move, but he was reacting slowly, not moving fast enough, foggy from crashing into the car.
Knapp was up on a knee, pushing up with his hands, ready to take a step.
Mac rolled to his right, setting his hand on the pavement, trying to push himself up, wanting to give chase.
Knapp, up now, took a step, but only one. A blur from the left wiped him out. Rockford, all two hundred fifty pounds of him, finished the job for Mac, steamrolling Knapp. Subdued by the force of the tackle, Knapp was easily cuffed by Rock, who just might’ve taken an extra shot or two in the process. Falcon, having caught up, provided a guide for all of the other vehicles and cops, who circled the area now like moths to a flame.
Mac sat back against the tire, breathing hard, his head pounding, seeing some stars. Perhaps not stars, but little flickering bright lights, like used to happen when he got checked hard into the boards when he played hockey.
Riles approached. He squatted down in front of Mac. “You all right?”
“Yeah, just got my bell rung, I think,” Mac replied, trying to focus his eyes. “Help me up.”
Riles reached his right arm around Mac’s left side and helped him up. Mac set his feet underneath him, and while he was a little lightheaded, he felt okay. “How’s Linda?”
“She’s fine. Brace did the trick,” Riles responded, smiling, relieved.
Having steadied Mac, Riles walked over to a face-down and handcuffed Knapp. Squatting down again, Riles pushed Knapp onto his right side and looked him in the eye.
“Have a nice day.”