The Street Corner Killer

Chapter 9

When Riley walked into the precinct the next day, despite her brothers protests, she received more than a few stares as she walked among the desks towards the whiteboard were Bishop and Fallow were stood. She had spent the past night being constantly woken up by her brothers checking on her, locking the doors, and her eyes were darker than usual, and her hair had been a mess of knots in the morning. Now sitting down on her desk next to John and Fallow, they stopped their chatter to stare at her.

"What?" She asked expectantly, sipping her coffee.

"Brooke..." Bishop wiped his face, "You shouldn't be here,"

"I'm fine! Honestly,"

"Seriously, Riley. It's dangerous," Fallow said, surprising her.

"Wow. You care now?"

"Brooke you can't do this," Bishop interrupted, shaking his head.

"I'm the lead detective! I haven't been taken off the case officially, and I'm not planning on any field work!"

John sighed, reflecting on the fact that his partner was like a stubborn child sometimes.

"Now can you catch me up on the case?" Riley swung her feet against the side of the desk.

"We've been trying to track Payne," Fallow pointed to his picture on the board. "So far all we've got is a cash withdrawal of 300 bucks and subway ticket to Queens. Both dead ends,"

"He could be anywhere in New York," She said quietly. "What subway station?"

"Eighth,"

"I'll check the feeds there, try find him," With that, she jumped of her desk and into the chair next to it. Starting the computer, she logged in.

It was only when her desktop loaded up did she click into her emails. She scrolled through the 3 new ones.

Meetings.

Case reports.

She paused at the last one, which had no title. Suspicious, she clicked it and frowned at the 2 words that greeted her.

Brooke Riley.

Not sure what to think of it, she glanced up at the 'from' box. It was blank.

How was that possible?! It couldn't be from...

No. She shook the thought from her head. Maybe its's a glitch? Maybe someone accidentally deleted half the email they meant to send, leaving only who it was addressed to?

She quickly clicked off it, and instead bought up the subway feeds from the eighth station. Rewinding back a day, she paused at the time he would have been there. Bringing it up onto the plasma screen, where they could all see it. They watched for about 7 minutes, before Fallow suddenly pointed at the screen.

"There!"

In the corner, right by the ticket machine, they saw a small man walk up to it, pushing his credit card into the slot. He had his back to the camera, but with the blonde hair and scraggly lab coat, it was unmistakably Harold Payne. They watched in awe as he casually tapped the screen, and pulled out his yellow ticket. He then walked away from the ticket barriers, dropping his ticket on the floor and heading back out the exit.

"It was a red herring," Bishop broke the silence. "Get up the cameras from the street above!"

Riley frantically searched through the cameras until she got to the street where the 3rd entrance to the eighth was. They were black.

"This guy's good," Fallow shook his head, "He leaves a fake clue, disables the cameras. He only missed the subway,"

"More importantly, he might still be in Brooklyn," Riley stopped him.

 Standing up, she snatched the picture of Harold Payne off the board, and jumped up onto her chair, making her go from 5"4 to 6"10. Placing 2 fingers in her mouth, she let out a sharp whistle, which rang through the room. All the officers and detectives paused to look at her as she began to shout.

"I WANT EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM LOOKING FOR HAROLD PAYNE," She held up the head shot of the man in question. "THE STREET CORNER KILLER IS SOME WHERE IN BROOKLYN, SO GET SEARCHING!"

With that, the whole precinct filled with chatter, and various cops began to rush around. Detective Peters started to put them into groups. Some would check the cameras, some would patrol the streets. The man hunt was just beginning.

---

9 hours later, though, nothing had happened. It was 7 o'clock, and the sun was beginning to set over Brooklyn. As Riley left the precinct with Bishop at her side, she felt deflated and tired. They had found nothing, no money transactions, no sightings on camera, not even a bus ticket. Now she shivered, partly because of the May night and partly because she didn't know where her suspect was. Pulling on her bomber jacket, she and Bishop paused at her car.

"You okay getting home on your own?" He gave her a quizzical look, which she laughed at, despite her nerves.

"I'm not dead yet," She smiled,

"Well give me a call when you get back to your apartment, and make sure you brothers are there,"

"Yeah, yeah, the terrible twins," I better call them, actually, she thought, reaching to her belt where her phone was usually strapped. To her surprise, nothing was there. 

"Shoot, I've left my phone behind. I'll be right back, don't wait on me,"

She jogged back to the building, where unlocked the main door and climbed the stairs to the office.

It was colder in there than outside, and she pulled her jacket closer. Everyone had gone home now, and the room was only lit dimly by the sunset coming through the windows. Her desk was at the far end, and she could see her phone lying on her open notepad. 

She went to pick it up, but as she did her fingers brushed against something else.

Right there, next to her notepad, was a long thin scalpel, the red blood on the tip dried and peeling of, the grubby marks on the handle recent. Snatching her hand away, she sucked in a breath, as she felt her heart begin to race.

He's here.

The words barely formed in her mind, before a hand clamped over her mouth, and a strong arm pulled her away from the desk.