CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Philadelphia Police Records Department are you a citizen judge court employee press or law enforcement?”
The woman who answered the phone delivered that entire sentence in one breath, absent punctuation. Her tone betrayed the abiding boredom of someone who’d fallen into a career locked inside a windowless room dealing with impatient people all day.
“I’m Special Agent Kate Valentine, FBI,” Kate replied.
“So, law enforcement?” the woman asked drily.
Kate’s eyes flashed, though the records officer wasn’t there to see it. “Ma’am, I am attempting to prevent a serial killer from murdering someone else. I have no patience for your bad attitude. I need the records of a 911 call placed to police on March 19th, 1991.”
“1991? Ma’am, I am absolutely not trying to be rude, but it could take hours to find that information.” Kate’s warning had changed the officer’s attitude from bored and snarky to obsequious and a little intimidated.
“Find it. The call was for a burglary in progress at a jewelry store in Kensington. The suspect eventually arrested for the burglary and the murder of the clerk was Daniel Avery.”
“Daniel Avery,” the officer said. “All right. I’ll look that up right away. Is this a good number to reach you?”
“It’s a perfect number. When does your shift end tonight?”
“Um… in about ten minutes.”
“Try again.”
The officer paused for a moment, then said, “It ends after I find this information for you.”
“Outstanding. I’ll await your prompt return call.”
She hung up and responded to a call from Darnell. “Got something?” he asked.
“Maybe. I’m trying to look up the person who called in the Daniel Avery burglary. I think they might be the next victim.”
“Have you called records yet?”
“Yes. The officer gave me some snark, but I shut her down. She’s digging up the records now.”
“All right.”
Marcus texted her a moment later. News?
She texted him back, Have potential other victim. 911 caller. PPD Records is looking into it.
Marcus texted her back a fingers crossed emoji.
“Fingers crossed indeed,” she said softly.
She headed back to the front door. The snow was falling more steadily now, and frost clung to her hair.
Kate didn’t feel the cold. Their last two cases had ended after the killers were finished with their task.
For the first time since Emily Warren, they had a chance to thwart Cox before he could close the circle.
She hoped that wherever he was, he would hear about this. She hoped he would know that while he licked his wounds and cowered like a snake, she was still actively pursuing his disciples, still resisting his plans.
You haven’t beaten me. You haven’t broken me. I’m still not your scapegoat, and you’re still not my god.
Her phone rang just before she entered the lobby. “Yes?”
“Um…”
The records officer’s voice was thready and hesitant. That meant bad news. Kate frowned and stayed outside on the porch. “What is it?”
“I found the records. I’m afraid the caller was anonymous.”
Kate’s frown deepened. “Officer, this person’s life is in danger. I guarantee you our killer knows who they is. You need to tell us who they are so we can arrange to protect them.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Kate’s lower lip trembled, not with fear but with rage. “Excuse me?”
“This was 1991, ma’am. The caller called from a landline, and they didn’t have caller ID.”
“Did you?”
“Yes, but it would only work if the caller also had caller ID.”
“So, no one thought to get a name?”
“Anonymous calls are common. People are afraid. They don’t want criminals to know that they tattled.
Nowadays, it’s impossible to make an anonymous call to the police, but people still try.
And back then… I’m assuming the dispatch officer didn’t feel it was worth their time to try to press for ID considering the call was armed burglary in progress. ”
Kate ran a hand through her hair. Her first thought was to try to contact the dispatch officer, but if the dispatch officer didn’t get the name, then they wouldn’t know anything either.
“What about the phone number? Can you give me that?”
“I can, but it’s not in service… I mean, I assume it’s not in service anymore.”
“You’ve heard the bit about assumptions, right?”
“Um…”
“Don’t assume, because you’ll make an ass out of you and me.”
“Right. I’m truly sorry, Special Agent. I understand how frustrating this is. Believe me, if there was anything I can do—”
“You can give me the number,” Kate interrupted.
She was being short with the records officer, who had no control of the circumstances, but she couldn’t stop herself. The confidence she felt a few seconds ago was slipping away, and she would be damned if they got this close only to fail at the last minute.
Let me save one. Damn it, let me at least save one.
“All right,” the officer replied. “Do you have something to write with?”
Kate pressed the phone to her shoulder and held it with her cheek, then pulled out her pen and notepad. A snowflake dropped onto the pad, raising a welt on the paper and loosening the pressed fibers of the high-quality stationery.
She stepped into the lobby and flipped to another page. “Go ahead.”
The records officer gave her the number, then finished with, “I really wish I could do more.”
“You did your best,” Kate said. “Thank you.”
She hung up just in time for Marcus and Darnell to step out of the elevator and approach her. “Anything yet?” Marcus asked.
Kate showed them the notepad. “I have the landline phone number from which the call was made. No caller ID, and the caller wanted to be anonymous.”
“Shit,” Marcus snapped. “Of goddamned course.”
Darnell kept a slightly better handle on his emotions. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number. Kate overheard the stiff male voice inform Darnell that the number he’d dialed was no longer in service.
Darnell nodded. “Worth a shot. I’ll contact the phone company and see if we can get a name.”
“Would they still have it after thirty years?” Kate asked.
Darnell didn’t answer verbally, but his face told Kate the bad news.
He stepped away to dial the number. Marcus glowered, burly arms crossed over his broad chest. “This is horseshit. We’re right there.”
“I know,” Kate replied softly.
“How can our APB not have popped? How different could she look from our reconstructions?”
Kate didn’t answer, because she knew the answer was very different.
Nora could have had plastic surgery. She could have gained eighty pounds.
She could have lost weight and now be skinny as a rail.
She could have shaved her hair, more than enough to fool all but the shrewdest of observers.
There were any number of ways Nora could look entirely different from their best guesses, and even if she was a match, Philadelphia was a big city, the metro area even bigger.
She could be lost in a crowd or among people who hadn’t seen the public service announcement or paid much attention to it.
By sheer luck, she could have just not encountered a single police officer since the bulletin went out.
They were searching for a needle in a hayfield.
Darnell returned a minute later. “Well, as I suspected, the phone company no longer has records of that number. They keep subscriber records for ten years, and it’s been over three and a half times that long.”
“So, they have nothing.”
“They have the building,” Darnell said. “It’s a luxury high-rise in Rittenhouse Square directly across from the former location of the jewelry store.”
“Call them,” Kate said. “Maybe they have residency records.”
Darnell didn’t look any more hopeful for a result with this call than with the first call.
Less than a minute later, his pessimism turned out correct once more.
The property managers likewise kept records for only ten years.
A call to the previous management company revealed it had gone out of business fifteen years ago.
Its number now belonged to a mobile car wash service.
The three agents paced the lobby, earning glances from other agents and staff that they ignored. Darnell’s face was drawn and tight, his stoicism pushed to the breaking point. Marcus ran a hand over his face, through his hair, down his sides, restless but unable to direct that energy productively.
Kate hugged her chest, eyes pulled into a scowl. This wasn’t fair. Damn it, they were so close. It was like Cox was mocking them, dangling a carrot just out of reach. Like he wanted them to know that there was no hope. It was inevitable. God’s will would be done.
“Not God’s,” she muttered. “Not His will.”
“What?” Marcus asked.
“Nothing,” Kate said. “Darnell, you said the phone company knows what building. Do they know which unit?”
Darnell shook his head. “They only know what building because of the central office code. That’s the three digits after the area code before the four-digit line number.”
“And they can’t trace the line number?”
“No. The line numbers changed when the city reorganized its telephone grid mapping in 2018. The central office codes remained the same, but the line numbers were all changed.”
A spark of hope came to Kate’s mind, a very dim one, but she’d hold onto any lifeline she could right now. “Would the city have those records?”
Darnell’s brow furrowed. Then the dim light flashed in his eyes. “Maybe. It’s possible. I’ll contact city hall’s twenty-four-hour law enforcement hotline and see if I can get that information.”
He dialed the number. Kate and Marcus waited, jaws clenched, shoulders bunched, while he worked his way through the automated system and eventually through a series of actual human beings.
After nine minutes of eye-scratching frustration, he finally said, “Thank you. As fast as possible, please,” and hung up.
He met their eyes. “The phone number switch is likely a dead end, but they may be able to find the initial building permit from the city planner’s office.
Those records are retained for the life of the building.
These will be old records and might take some time to find, but they should still be there. ”
“They understand that a life is on the line, right?” Kate asked. “They can’t just drag their feet.”
“They understand that. They’re not dragging their feet. But we’re digging up an unmarked grave, Kate. We can’t expect miracles.”
“Yes, we can,” she insisted. “We have to. I refuse to accept that luck only falls on Cox’s side.”
Marcus looked down at his feet, but he didn’t say anything. Darnell sighed, but he didn’t respond either.
So, the three of them settled in to wait. Kate looked through the window and hoped that the falling snow wouldn’t bury the answers they sought.