CHAPTER 44

I actually knew what Grime’s note meant the moment I saw it. It was the same method cops used to file away news clippings in a homicide book. CST stood for Chicago Sun-Times. I Googled their archives, but they went back only two years online. I could have called a Sun-Times reporter and asked for a favor, but one journalist in my life seemed like more than enough. I punched in Diane’s cell. She picked up on the first ring.

“Where are you?” she said.

“Nice to talk to you, too. I’m at my office, Googling with no apparent effect.”

“When did you get back from Menard?”

“Couple of hours ago,” I said.

“I left you a message.”

I looked at the blinking light on my machine. Not for the first time.

“I know.”

“Michael, you need to return your messages.”

“I know.”

“I was waiting to hear how it went with Grime. And don’t tell me you know.”

“Okay.”

“How did it go?”

“Actually, I don’t know,” I said. “In fact, that’s what I’m working on. I need access to the Sun-Times clip morgue. You guys can do that, right?”

“How far back?”

I took a glance at Grime’s note.

“September 1998.”

“What day?”

“Let’s just keep it at September until I get down there.”

“You don’t have to come down. I can access the clips from your computer. Is this going to be good?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“I’m leaving now. Be there in a half hour. Did he creep you out?”

“Grime?”

“Who else?”

“See you in thirty.”

I had just hung up with Diane when Rodriguez punched in.

“We got test results back from Miriam Hope’s bedsheets,” he said.

“And?”

“The same guy who helped Grime in 1995, raped Elaine Remington in 1997, and cried in Miriam’s bed three weeks ago.”

“Some guy.”

“Yeah. For my money he’s also grabbing twelve-year-olds and leaving Grime’s semen behind. Just for kicks. What did John himself have to say?”

I told him about Grime and the note he gave me.

“What do you think?” Rodriguez said.

“I don’t know. Diane Lindsay is coming over. We’re going to go through the clip file.”

“Can she keep her mouth shut for a bit?”

“She will.”

Rodriguez didn’t like it but held his fire.

“Fine. If she helps us ID this guy, we give her the exclusive. Biggest story any of us will see.”

“You got that right,” I said.

“Keep me posted. And remember, Kelly. Me, you, and Lindsay. That’s it until we find this guy.”

I hung up the phone and looked past a week’s worth of mail, to a single package sitting on my desk. A missive from the desert. Most likely a waste of time. But there it was. Waiting to be opened.