The following night seemed no different than the night before. The vigil was just as maddening, and the detectives came up empty handed again.
They still proceeded to work on what leads they had and asked the Federal Bureau of Investigation to join in with a nationwide inquiry for information of any similarly related crimes committed in other states, and possible inquiries of escapees from mental institutions across the country which fitted the killer’s description. The information forthcoming, they knew, would be slow, but at this point it was better than nothing.
Careful forensic research was done on each victim and although there were two different weapons used, the force of the blows were of the same magnitude. This seemed to point out only one killer. The psychological viewpoint of each attack proved baffling though. Even if the killer in every case seemed identical from the eyewitness description, his mannerisms and choice of victims created the illusion of two separate killers, each with his own motivation.
This could be a clue, but one which seemed to lead up blind alleys. Mac and Harry worked on this for a while, but had to give it up in utter frustration. They thought perhaps that they were barking up the wrong tree in a sense, and turned to other channels. Because of its lack of importance, they placed young Jenkins on this track to test his reasoning and skill. Mac thought it would be good for him to exercise his brain a bit and thought that he might pull a couple of rabbits out of a hat while he was at it.
“Any kind of a lead would do us good at this point,” Mac thought, but then he let it go at that.
Meanwhile more and more red lines were being crossed over their list of diminishing clues. The F.B.I. drew a blank, as well as those detectives assigned to seeking out any more witnesses that might have seen the attacker leaving any one of the locations where he committed the crimes. They did receive a lot of crazy phone calls and begrudgingly the men interviewed those with various information knowing well that it could be a waste of precious time. But, even if it was, the possibility of some new and valid information could not be overlooked. Each informer was questioned thoroughly, with a half hearted hope.
Harry’s idea of a tragic attachment to the case wasn’t fairing well either, but with the past year’s subway crimes to mull over, there seemed an unending mountain of work to sift through. Every case had side roads full of people that might be affected from a suicide jumping to a mugging. They well knew that people taking things to heart, with enough time for fermenting hard feelings over such small single things as a purse snatching, might cause a person to take it out on even an inanimate object. This could range from throwing a pop bottle at a passing train or taking out one’s vengeance against a whole subway system in a fashion such as this.
“This may sound funny, Harry,” Mac offhandedly said, “But I knew of a guy that went on a rampage about ten years ago because his wallet got snatched.”
“No kidding?” Harry said.
“Well it wasn’t so much the act of taking the wallet,” Mac informed him, “but he had an address of an employer he was supposed to see for a job in it and, as a result, he didn’t get the job. His wife was pregnant and delivered less than a month later, premature of course, and the baby was stillborn. The premature delivery was supposedly aggravated by an argument over money and afterwards she left him.”
“How did it connect with the snatch?” the Sergeant asked,
“He pinpointed it back to that and blamed the transit system for the lack of police patrolling the platform,” said the Lieutenant.
“I guess he really focused the police’s attention to the platform then,” Harry said.
“He’s also serving twenty-five years to life,” Mac responded.
“Almost reminds me of the kids in Broad Channel who fired up the two token takers after they were caught the day before, jumping the turn style,” Harry said.
“Yeah,” said Mac. “They all react in different ways, I guess.”
“Yeah, and the sad thing is that they went after the wrong token takers. Those women probably didn’t even know why they were attacked.” Harry said aloud more to himself than to Mac.
For the next two weeks, time seemed to plod on with a lot of trails petering out in the search. The Mayor seemed to be growing impatient with the lack of any hard evidence or even a suspect to pin it on. The press did finally move the story back to page three, and then four. When no new crimes happened, and the murderer seemingly dematerialized, it became past history. More current headlines of an early blizzard in Seattle, and a possible fuel shortage for the winter, were splashed across the front pages. The story was brought forward to page two in a small article when the Mayor was finally forced by financial costs to pull extra police from overtime duty on the platforms.
Upon learning this, the detective teams worked even harder to relieve the fears of those who were left to guard the platforms for the night vigils. These lone sentinels, now reduced to teams of two, with visiting sergeants only, felt at first that they were being left as bait in some cold maneuver, generated from upstairs by the top brass. The Police Benevolent Association was almost called in to protest, but that was quieted when many fellow officers, and the top brass themselves, volunteered to work extra duty on their own time to keep their comrade’s morale up.
Lieutenants and Captains of the line, as well as patrol officers, could be seen walking the night beat in their civvies along with the uniformed men. The only tell tale sign of their rank was in the way their more junior officers responded to them. There almost seemed to be a closer comradeship formed between both silver and gold shields because of it.
With no new attacks or sightings of the killer, and with more urgent items to be looked after, the Mayor finally drew the extra duty men off the platforms. The Transit Cops were kept on alert though, and extra night attendants were kept on in the ticket booths after their union complained that they feared they could be attacked as well.
As different turns of events came and went, the killer was considered just another page in history by the citizens and commuters alike. All seemed to return to normal, but soon, violence would strike again, to shake all those who had put it out of their minds.
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