p bu t I don’ t fal l, an d I’ m thrashin g throug h th e puddle s o f rainwate r, prayin g tha t sh e hasn’ t le t loos e tha t goddamne d do g .
I’ m thirt y yard s fro m m y ow n vehicl e, o n th e othe r sid e o f th e mal l, whe n I begi n t o laug h . A sI reac h m y rid e,I finall y tur n t o se e i f anyon e ha s followe d. Bu t n o on e ha s, o f cours e. Th e brunett e i s o n he r wa y a t to p spee d ou t o f thi s parkin g lo t. Sh e migh t cal l 91 1 whe n sh e get s hom e. Perhap s she’l l us e he r cellula r fro m her e. I n eithe r cas e sh e won’ t b e abl e t o describ e m e. I t wa s rainin g, pourin g, an d luck y fo r m e sh e neve r sa w m y fac e i n th e lightnin g. Onl y no w, a s I si t i n m y vehicl e, doe s th e flashin g illuminat e everythin g bac k t o dayligh t .
‘Troubl e?’ m y drive r ask s m e .
Chapter Nine
We got a message that a woman had been accosted in a shopping-mall lot by some guy who followed her out to her car. This kind of thing happens frequently, but the item that caught our eyes was the bit about the gym bag. She said he was reaching into a bag for something. Then her doggy cut loose at this figure standing in the rain, and suddenly the guy was a ghost.
Her name was Stephanie Manske. She works as a secretary for some hotshot downtown — which was why the news about her traveled so rapidly. The hotshot wanted to know why security was so lax in this mall on the northwest side, and he made a stink, and someone in our department overheard another copper mentioning the particulars, and bells began to ring in this copper’s ears in regards to ‘The Farmer’, and here she was.
‘You didn’t see his face very well,’ Doc repeated.
‘It was raining real hard. And he startled me. He was just, like , ther e. ’
‘You notice how tall?’ I asked.
‘About six feet. I think. He was hunched up a little, reaching into that gym bag or whatever.’
‘Wearing a hat?’ Doc asked.
‘No ... but I couldn’t make out the color of his hair because it was plastered down to his skull ... It might’ve been blond. Maybe brown. I’m sorry I can’t do any better for you.’
‘Hey. We’re happy you’re here to tell us anything,’ Gibron told her.
‘You think this guy was —’
‘We don’t know, Stephanie. We have to take everybody very seriously,’ I answered.
‘I thought it might be that guy in the paper, too. He could’ve been reaching for a —’
‘Maybe not, Stephanie,’ I interrupted. ‘This could’ve been something absolutely innocent. And then your dog could’ve scared hell out of him.’
‘That’s why I keep Longsworth in the car. I got molested when I was a teenager, and it’s never going to happen again.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that ... Is there anything else you remember about him?’ Doc continued.
‘All that was left was watching his backside as he beat feet around to the back of the mall. I was so scared I got the hell out. Then I called the police as soon as I got home. And I told my boss, Tony, about it two days ago.’
She was not pretty, but she was not unattractive, either. And she was twenty-eight. Just about the same age as the first two victims. But Stephanie survived her encounter with him. She saw his face, if only for an instant, and he might have been the way I said it before — just some innocent mook trying to ask for directions to Cicero or some goddamned place.
But I didn’t think so and neither did Doc. It was him. It wa s h e , Doc would correct me. It was our man. The Farmer. Whatever his name was. He was looking for some more stock. Some more of the stuff I was sure he was peddling. He’d got a body shop opened, and it wasn’t the kind where you need a blowtorch and a welder’s mask to do business. Stephanie was like the steaks and chops behind the glass in the butcher’s shop. This guy was about ready to do business with her, only she wasn’t the customer. She was the