‘Probably not,’ Hunter accepted it. ‘All we need is for that phone to ring now.’

As if on cue, Hunter’s cellphone rang loudly, rattling against his desktop.

Garcia’s eyes widened.

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

Seventy-Three

Hunter couldn’t remember ever taking a call so quickly. He dashed toward his desk, his feet almost scuffing against the floor, his hand shooting out in the direction of his cellphone.

‘Detective Hunter, Robbery Homicide Division.’

‘Detective,’ the male voice at the other end of the line said. ‘It’s Brian.’

In his excitement, it took Hunter a second to match the name to the voice, and then both of them to a face.

‘Doctor Brian Snyder, with SID,’ the doctor clarified, picking up on Hunter’s hesitation.

Maybe it had taken Hunter more than just a second.

Garcia looked at Hunter, the question practically written in his eyes.

‘Doctor,’ Hunter said, shaking his head at Garcia. ‘Of course. I’m sorry.’ He paddled back fast. ‘It’s been an eventful morning so far.’

‘Have you found your suspect?’ he asked, his voice shifting from calm to half-excited.

‘No, not yet, but we’re hopeful. Have you got something for us?’

‘I do,’ he confirmed. ‘The results of the handwriting analysis.’

‘OK. Just a sec, Doc. Let me put you on speakerphone.’ Hunter keyed in the necessary command and placed the phone back on his desk.

Garcia stepped closer.

‘All right,’ Doctor Snyder began. ‘Graphologists will need on average thirteen to fifteen different letters out of the twenty-six we have in the English alphabet to achieve a “one hundred percent” positive match. As I’m sure you’re aware, the annotation inside the book of matches you gave me – Midazolam, 2.5 mg – contains only eight different letters, and two numbers.’

Garcia glanced at Hunter.

‘So for us to achieve that indisputable positive match, you’d need to find something else with his handwriting on it.’

‘Well,’ Garcia said, before Doctor Snyder was able to continue. ‘For now, that’s pretty much out of the question, Doc. Any sort of partial confirmation?’

‘I was just about to get to that.’

‘Oh sorry,’ Garcia said, lifting his hands and quickly using Hunter’s ‘paddle back’ excuse. ‘Eventful morning.’

‘Our graphologist said that though legally he cannot one hundred percent confirm it as a match, by analyzing the curvature of some of the letters, together with the way in which the person who wrote them connects them to one another, he would stake his professional reputation on the assumption that whoever jotted down that annotation is the same person who wrote both of the notes. In short, he’s your killer.’

Seventy-Four

Los Angeles 9-1-1 Emergency Response System operator Talicia Leon removed her curved-frame glasses, placed them on her desk just next to her empty coffee mug and rubbed her tired eyes with her thumb and forefinger. She was about to tell Justin, the operator sitting in the booth to her right, that she was taking a five-minute coffee break when a brand new call came onto her monitor.

Talicia quickly reached for her glasses again.

Coffee would have to wait.

‘Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?’ she said as she took the call, adjusting her headset.

‘Yes, I have a problem.’ The voice at the end of the line was female. Though she sounded a little distressed, Talicia got the feeling that the woman was trying hard to keep it all together. ‘For some reason, my savings accounts seems to have been blocked. I can’t get to my money and I need to transfer funds from one account to the other ASAP.’

Oh great, Talicia thought. Another dumbass call.

On average, Talicia answered around ten completely non-related emergency calls a week. Some of them were damn right stupid.

‘Ma’am, you’ve reached nine-one-one emergency,’ she replied calmly. ‘Not your bank.’

‘Yes, that’s right,’ the woman replied. ‘It’s not allowing me to do it over the Internet, that’s why I’m calling. I need this problem fixed ASAP, please.’ This time, the woman emphasized the letters ‘A-S-A-P’ and the word ‘please’ came out a little shaky. ‘Do you think you can help me?’

‘I don’t think so, ma’am. This is nine-one-one emergency, not Bank of America. Do you have an emergency or not?’

‘Of course. I wouldn’t be calling otherwise. My name is Vivian Curtis.’

All of a sudden it dawned on Talicia that this might not be a crank call at all. Her voice became a lot more serious.

‘So, Vivian, you do have an emergency.’ She didn’t phrase it as a question.

‘Yes.’

‘And at the moment you’re unable to talk because there’s someone there with you?’

‘That’s correct, I’ve already keyed in my account number and passcode. The address registered to the account is 13605 South Vermont Avenue, Gardena, 90247.’

‘Got that, Vivian.’ Talicia was already typing as fast as she could, and she was fast. ‘Are you under any physical threat?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘Yes. Will this take long? I need to attend to my daughter.’

‘Your daughter is also hurt and under physical threat?’ Talicia pressed ‘enter’ on her keyboard, dispatching the primary emergency message.

‘Yes, that’s right. Of course I authorize it. It’s my money. I would like to transfer the whole amount. How soon will it be before either myself or my partner can withdraw the money from an ATM?’

‘The threat is your partner?’

‘Um-hum.’

‘OK, Vivian, help is on its way. Just hold tight. They’ll be with you in less than four minutes. Can you stay on the line with me? Calls to banks tend to be lengthy and we can pretend there’s some sort of minor complication before the funds are able to be released.’

‘OK, I’ll wait.’

‘How old is your daughter, Vivian?’

‘I think that was on the twelfth of this month.’

‘Do you or your daughter have any life-threatening injuries?’

‘No. I haven’t received anything yet.’

The word ‘yet’ worried Talicia.

‘Are there any firearms in the house?’

‘Yes, I have entered it twice already.’

Two weapons. ‘Is your partner in possession of any of them?’

‘No, not at the moment. Thank you.’

Talicia quickly typed in some new instructions.

‘Is the front or back door, if you have one, unlocked, Vivian? Help is almost there.’

‘Yes. As I’ve said, transfer everything’

Both doors unlocked.

‘So, is it OK to just drop by an ATM and withdraw the funds now?’ Vivian’s voice was getting more and more distressed.

‘They’re seconds away, Vivian. Just turning into your street now. Even if you tell him right now that he can go and get the money out, he won’t make it past your front porch.’

‘OK. Thank you very much for your help.’

The call disconnected.

Talicia immediately checked the history for calls related to Vivian’s address. There had been six in the past eight months. All of them for domestic violence.

Before Talicia could even breathe out, a new call lit up her screen.