The Bay Area Butcher: (Quint Adler Book 2)

by Brian O'Sullivan

  During a quick break, Cara told me she’d seen them going over Tad’s apartment with a fine-toothed comb. And no doubt they’d started interviewing everyone who lived on the fourth floor and had interacted with him.

  Tad. Or Tyler. Or the Butcher. It was hard to know what to call him.

  After a few guys from the F.B.I. told me they had no more questions for the time being, I closed the apartment door and got ready to enjoy a little peace and quiet with Cara.

  I went out on my balcony. That was a mistake. Within seconds, I saw someone taking my picture from the street level.

  News trucks filled the streets everywhere and obviously their cameramen had arrived as well. Or were they paparazzi from some tabloid?

  I wondered how the hell they figured out which apartment I was in. But I knew nothing was truly private these days.

  “I should have warned you,” Cara said. “They started arriving within an hour of you calling the police.”

  “How’d they know so early?”

  “They probably heard that the police and the F.B.I. were showing up to where ‘Quint’ lives. And I’m sure word got out that they raided a tenant’s apartment.”

  I sighed.

  “Yeah, guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

  Going back inside, I threw on the news. All three local channels were broadcasting from out in front of Avalon Walnut Creek.

  Within minutes, I saw my face, split-screen with the face of Tyler Anthony Danovich. As if we were two sides of the same coin. I wanted to scream that he was the homicidal maniac and I was the guy trying to catch him. But what was the point?

  We would forever be linked. His mentioning me by name in the letters had secured that. And now, with it coming out that we both had lived at Avalon, it was unavoidable. It certainly made a great story. For the media, that is. Not so much for me.

  Captioning his picture, phrases declared him the “Suspected Bay Area Butcher” and asked “Is this the Bay Area Butcher?”

  It looked like a high school yearbook photo, but it may have been all they could find in such a short time. Tad looked different now. Less innocent. Stronger. He was noticeably thicker these days, having been very skinny in the picture they used. His hair had become darker. If this picture was meant to bring him to the public’s attention, I wasn’t sure it would do the trick. I barely recognized him, as a neighbor who saw him every few weeks.

  When I read the caption “Is this the Bay Area Butcher?”, I paused to think. Was he? Could I be positive he was the killer? Obviously, certainty was impossible, but there had been just too many coincidences.

  His name fit perfectly for the poker riddle the Butcher had taunted me with. He saw me get on the elevator the day the Butcher left a letter on my door. He followed us to Iron Hill Street. He moved out of Avalon a few days later. And now he wasn’t showing up to work?

  It had to be him!

  But as a news agency, I knew you couldn’t risk a massive lawsuit if you were incorrect. So I understood why they had to phrase it as a question.

  I felt sure the police were interviewing relatives, co-workers, and old friends of his. And most importantly, they must be trying to trace his steps since he left Avalon. There would soon be a manhunt of epic proportions. He would become one of the most sought-after men in the U.S. Likely the world.

  We’d seen how many people he had already killed. God knew what he had planned for his final set of murders.

  I changed the channel to try a different news station.

  A young Hispanic woman anchored this one. I’d never seen her before. They had the same picture of Tad on the screen, though.

  “Turn the volume up,” Cara asked.

  The anchor spoke:

  “Here’s the information we have so far. Local law enforcement and the F.B.I. have raided the Avalon Walnut Creek apartment towers. Apparently, they are interested in someone named Tyler Anthony Danovich who lived at Avalon until a few days ago. We’ve heard from sources that these officials are investigating whether he might be the Bay Area Butcher. We do not know why they believe that at this point, and we have no evidence to link him to being the Butcher. So this is all conjecture and at this point he’s just a person of interest. Danovich is twenty-seven years old and works as a front line developer for a computer company named Caltenics. They have a few offices across the Bay Area, including one in Walnut Creek. Danovich grew up in the Bay Area and graduated from College Park High School in 2012. It doesn’t appear he has a criminal record.”

  I paused the T.V. on Tad’s picture.

  His hair was parted too close to the middle and his face held no expression. He looked harmless, and yet there was something just a bit off.

  “He looks like a Boy Scout,” Cara said. “But there’s something about his eyes.”

  “I agree. Something is off with them. Like they’re vacant. Lifeless. Although I saw this guy at least fifty times over the years walking around Avalon, and I never suspected a thing. He was polite and seemed as normal as you or me.”

  “I imagine psychopaths are pretty good at blending in.”

  “Probably. It’s just odd that I never suspected a thing.”

  “How could you?”

  She was right. I had zero reason to ever suspect the guy.

  “You know, he was on the elevator one day when I was bringing up some library books on Ted Bundy and the Zodiac. He saw them.”

  “And?”

  “And he was as normal as could be. I remember him making a joke about me undertaking some light reading.”

  “You’re making my point for me. He was normal when he had to be. There’s no way you could have known.”

  “By the way, he doesn’t really look like that picture they’re showing.”

  “In what way?”

  “He looks fragile in that picture. Like someone who hadn’t grown into his skin. And he’s not nearly that skinny any more.”

  “Is he buff?”

  “No, but he’s wiry strong. He looks like a pushover in that picture. But that’s not the vibe you’d get if you ever met him.”

  “Hope I never get that honor.”

  “Of course,” I said, instantly regretting I’d mentioned the hypothetical.

  “Listen to me, Quint. You’re beating yourself up when you should be patting yourself on the back. You have blown this case wide open. This guy is going to have his picture plastered all over the news until the day they catch him. He’s living on borrowed time.”

  “We did do some great work, didn’t we?”

  “Having the guy tail us was a genius idea. And it led us to him.”

  I wondered why I wasn’t happier. We had done all the dirty work which led to the identification of the Bay Area Butcher. This was massive.

  “I’ll revel in our accomplishments once he’s caught.”

  “You don’t seem confident. The whole world is going to be looking for him. He can’t go far.”

  “What you’re saying makes perfect sense. But he’s always, always been a step ahead. It sounds like he moved out the day we went to Iron Hill Street. He must have had a plan. And as I said, he doesn’t look like that picture they keep posting. And my guess is that there aren’t going to be many other pictures of him.”

  “You’re probably right. When I found out where he worked, I looked for any accounts on Facebook and on Instagram. Nothing.”

  “He’s been practicing for this. For a long time, I’d guess. There’s no other way he could have gotten this far without being caught. Sadly, I don’t think we’ve heard the last of him.”

  “Jeez, Quint. This should be a time of rejoicing.”

  “Like I said, I’ll rejoice when he’s caught. Or dead.”

  “Well, those two things are much more likely because of the work we did.”

  I leaned in and hugged Cara.

  “You’re right about that. And you’ve been great. I’m sorry. I just don’t think this is over.”

  “I understand.”

&n
bsp; “I’ll tell you one thing. I think we’re going to learn a lot more about him very soon. I think he wants the world to know who he is. That’s why he’s sent all these letters. To make himself famous. And the next letter is going to be a doozy. I can guarantee that.”

  Just then, someone knocked at the door. I got up and looked through the peephole.

  It was Miles Lockett. I’d seen him walking around earlier, but we hadn’t talked yet. I opened the door.

  “Hi, Quint.”

  “Hello, Captain.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Captain Lockett nodded toward Cara and she waved back.

  “You can ask me anything in front of her,” I said. “She knows everything I know.”

  “Alright. I’ve been talking to the people who interviewed you. There’s one thing they didn’t get a good answer to.”

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “You said a car followed you and you suspected it was driven by the Butcher.”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you got a license plate number?”

  “That’s right,” I said again.

  “And how did you find out who owned the car?”

  “A friend.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Lockett said.

  I’d figured this was going to come up, but nobody had questioned me about it too hard.

  “A friend who doesn’t need to be involved. He knows someone in the DMV and they ran the plates.”

  Lockett looked at me and sighed. “I’ll give you a pass for this. For now.”

  “What have you found out on Tad?”

  “I’ll be honest. On my way over here, I had my doubts. A car that followed you. A neighbor that moved out abruptly. Seemed mighty flimsy.”

  “But…”

  “But we’ve found a few things out. First, Tyler Danovich grew up a block over from both the Langleys and the Tillers. That’s a pretty huge coincidence considered those were two families that ended up dead. We currently have officers interviewing people on that block.”

  “Ask them to interview the Dorias,” I said. “An old couple who have lived there forever.”

  “You know a lot, don’t you, Quint?”

  “Just trying to help catch this asshole.”

  “What was he like? I’ve heard you knew him, at least a little bit.”

  “I was just talking to Cara about that. He was normal. Cordial. I never, ever would have guessed.”

  “I wouldn’t beat yourself up over that. Neighbors of serial killers always say they were the nicest guys on the block.”

  “Thanks. What else have you found?”

  I looked over at Cara, who had remained silent, but was listening intently.

  “He hasn’t been to work since he moved out of Avalon a few ago,” the captain said. “We’re currently talking to his bosses and trying to find out if any co-workers have communicated with him. He didn’t appear to be close to any of the neighbors we’ve talked to. Let me ask you a question.”

  “Shoot,” I said.

  “Did you ever see him with a girlfriend? Or any sort of friend?”

  “No, it was always just him.”

  “I think we’re going to discover that he was a loner. It’s going to be hard to track him by asking friends.”

  “How about family?” I asked.

  “It appears his parents died within a few years of each other when he was between sixteen and eighteen.”

  My mouth opened to say something instinctively.

  “Don’t say it,” Captain Lockett said. “He doesn’t deserve any sympathy. A lot of people lose parents. They don’t turn into murderers.”

  “You’re right,” I said. Thinking about my own dad, and Charles Zane.

  “Would you like to see the pictures of the people killed at the retirement home? The burned bodies? Or the pictures of the victims in San Jose who asphyxiated to death, fighting to breathe? How about the pictures of the Langleys after they were butchered to death? This guy doesn’t deserve an ounce of sympathy from us.”

  “You didn’t even mention Ray.”

  “I miss him every day.”

  “So what’s next, Captain?”

  “We’ve got his DNA now.”

  “I thought nobody had found any DNA at the crime scenes.”

  “They didn’t find any that was useful. I just learned that Tyler, or Tad, or whatever the fuck we want to call him, had no criminal record. So we had nothing to run it against But we do now. We’re lucky they hadn’t started cleaning his apartment just yet.”

  “That’s good news. I’d just like to be absolutely certain.”

  Lockett managed a slight laugh.

  “Could you imagine if we were mistaken?” He pointed to the T.V. “The media would have a lot of apologizing to do.”

  “You’ve got a morose sense of humor, Captain.”

  “In a world where you’ve got psychopaths like this rolling around, you need it.”

  “I guess so.”

  Cara jumped in for the first time.

  “I’m sure you’ve thought of this, Captain, but when he went to Tiburon he would have had to use ether the Golden Gate Bridge or the Richmond-San Rafael Bridge. You could probably track him that way now that we know his license plate.”

  Captain Lockett’s eyes widened, impressed.

  “Just brilliant, Cara. I’m not saying it wouldn’t have come up, but I certainly hadn’t thought of it yet. Thank you.”

  “Anything to help.”

  “You and Quint have done plenty of that. If we catch the Butcher, you guys deserve a lion’s share of the credit.”

  “When we catch him, you mean,” Cara said.

  “Of course,” he said. “Now, I have more work to do. Quint, don’t wander far from your phone. We’ll be talking soon, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Do you guys want a police escort?”

  I hadn’t thought about it. I looked over at Cara.

  “I can’t imagine he has any intentions of coming near Avalon again,” she said.

  I agreed.

  “I think we’re alright, Captain. Thank you, though.”

  “If you change your mind, just call me. We could have one here within minutes. And it doesn’t just have to be here. If you plan on going into SF or somewhere else, we can supply a tail.”

  “We might take you up on that. Thanks.”

  “No, thank you, Quint. You two have done amazing work. Now we’re going to go catch this motherfucker.”

  “I’m with you there. Please keep me posted. On anything you can.”

  “I will. You’ve done enough to warrant that.”

  “Thanks. Talk soon, Captain.”

  “You can count on it.”

  And with that, Lockett strode out of the apartment and shut the door behind him. I made sure to lock it.

  I went back to the couch and sat next to Cara.

  “No police escort?” I asked.

  “We’ve gotten this far by ourselves,” she said.

  “We sure have. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “This isn’t over, though. Let’s be vigilant. He’s still out there and once he sees his name on the news, I’m sure his hate for me will only increase.”

  “Why does he hate you, though?”

  “I don’t know. There are so many unanswered questions. It sounds like he was one of the first people who arrived in the stairwell when I was shot last year. But why would that drive you to hate someone?”

  “The man’s a psychopath. He could have seen you on the elevator and decided you were his rival. Unbeknownst to you.”

  “True. It’s hard to narrow this down logically, when obviously his mind doesn’t work like ours.”

  “This is crazy, isn’t it?”

  “Our names are likely circulating throughout the whole world right now,” I said.

  “Yours certainly is. I haven’t se
en my name mentioned today.”

  “That’s probably for the best.”

  “No question,” Cara said. “I’m going to call my sister. If she and her husband haven’t seen your name on the news yet, I’m sure they will soon.”

  “Alright, I’ve got a phone call to make myself.”

  “Your mother?”

  “You know it.”

  Several hours passed. Our phones rang off the hook. Friends. Distant relatives. I got a few calls from employees of The Walnut Creek Times, including the owners, Tom and Krissy.

  I’d talked to my mother for almost an hour. Part of me thought I should go over to her place right after we spoke. But there was another voice in my head, telling me it was better if I kept my distance until this ended.

  For now, I was siding with the latter. There was no reason to potentially bring her to the Butcher’s attention.

  The calls finally started slowing down around 8:00 p.m.

  The news had as well. There had been nothing fresh to report for a few hours.

  Which was just fine with me. This had been the longest day of my life.

  We’d found out about the fire at Treeside Manor that morning. It felt like a week ago. We’d then made our way to confront Peter Vitella at the San Francisco Chronicle, gone and seen Paddy Roark, and then got the news on the car.

  And then everything that followed. Discovering the Butcher was Tad. Going to see Kayla. Calling the cops. Watching Avalon Walnut Creek being overrun by law enforcement. Being interviewed many times. Talking to Captain Lockett. Reassuring everyone who knew me that Cara and I were okay.

  Never had more happened over the course of a day.

  And I’m including the night I had to fight for my life on Zane’s boat in the middle of the shark-infested ocean.

  Just as we thought the news seemed to be slowing down, we heard the alert for another Breaking News update. We looked toward the T.V. It was the same young Hispanic woman, who was definitely earning her wage on this day. She’d been on for hours.

  “More Breaking News into the KPIX desk. Authorities have confirmed that Tyler Anthony Danovich is suspected of being the Bay Area Butcher. This is no longer just conjecture. We’ve been told that his car has been found just north of the Golden Gate Bridge. Items found in the car have all but confirmed he is in fact the Butcher. We have not been told what those items are, but we’ll let our viewers know as soon as we do. People in Marin are warned to be extra vigilant, and under no circumstances should you approach the suspect. He is considered armed and extremely dangerous.”