Chapter 40
Chin had been working at her computer, reading information on the profiling of serial killers when Wallace's call had come in. She couldn't believe what she was hearing, but by the tone of his voice, she knew he meant what he was saying. Pepper was in trouble, and needed their help.
She lived in an apartment building downtown, and Wallace had called, knowing she was less than ten minutes away from McTavish's house on Huron Street in the area they called Old North. It was a quiet residential area north of Oxford Street, within easy access of the downtown area, and yet close to the university. With Wallace being in Westmount, he was at least twenty minutes away-maybe more.
Already dressed in jeans and a sweater, she pulled on a pair of low-heeled boots and grabbed her jacket, slipping her badge into her pocket as she grabbed her gun and handcuffs. She took the elevator to the underground garage and raced up the ramp, her car squealing as she turned north. She thought about McTavish, and all she'd learned from him since they'd become partners. He'd been her mentor, understanding and sympathetic when she'd screwed up, and calmly patient when she'd asked question after question. She couldn't believe he was The Sandman, but she knew Wallace wouldn't fuck with her like this. No-for Wallace to make that call, it had to be true.
Chin had been to McTavish's house a few times and knew exactly where it was. But she'd never been inside, only picking him up or dropping him off. She thought about the small single storey house on Huron Street, and it dawned on her how perfect that house must be for The Sandman. She remembered that it had an attached garage, and Ian had mentioned how he liked that it had a stair that led right to the basement, allowing the house to stay nice and clean when dealing with tools and maintenance equipment. She thought about exactly where the house was situated, and realized it was right in the middle of all the events that had taken place. The original party on Broughdale was only a few blocks away, as were the apartments of Alicia Skinner on Regent Street and Nicole Fletcher on Cheapside. Even the Valu Mart on Oxford Street where Alicia Skinner had been abducted was close at hand. She'd stuck all those pins in the map, but nobody had made the connection that McTavish's house was just about dead centre from where all those girls had last been seen. Dead centre is right, Chin thought, finally slowing her car as she turned onto Huron Street and pulled to the curb, stopping two houses back from McTavish's, a big evergreen tree shielding the view of her car from his house.
She checked her gun before getting out of the car, knowing she'd never shot it other than at the firing range. She hoped it wouldn't come to that. She looked around as she got out of the car. The streets were quiet, not even a dog-walker. She moved past the evergreen and up the side of McTavish's house, not a single light on in the house.
She crossed the side yard and hugged the front corner of the house, holding her gun poised in both hands. Looking along the front of the house, behind some low bushes, she saw diffused white light coming from a basement window. She leaned forwards and looked closer, the panes of glass in the window covered by white film, just like at Drummond's house. She felt her heart skip a beat, her brain finally accepting that Wallace was right.
Chin drew back and moved along the side wall to the back, the wind making the branches of the mature trees in the old neighbourhood sway ominously, the heavy limbs occasionally creaking and groaning like an old man. She turned and moved along the back wall, gun at the ready. Again, like Drummond's house, there were two basement windows at the foundation level along the back, both of them covered with the same white film, fluorescent lights on in the room behind them. She knelt down at the side of the window and looked closer, but the film covered the entire window from side to side. She heard a voice, and recognized the low tone as being McTavish's. She stood up and continued checking the perimeter. She tried the back door, but it was locked. She moved around to the other side, her hand reaching for the side door to the garage-it was locked too. She withdrew to the back of the house and went to the room at the far corner. She figured it was probably a bedroom and was the furthest room from the basement. She popped the old screen off easily and tried to push up on the frame of the double-hung window-it didn't budge. Frustrated, she leaned against the wall and caught her breath. Think girl, think, she said to herself, what would Ian do? She thought about what might be happening in the basement, and knew exactly what McTavish would do.
She took her jacket off and wrapped it around her hand. She turned to the window and punched it just beneath the lock. The glass shattered, shards dropping onto the floor of the room beyond. Other than the initial sound of the window breaking, there'd been very little noise, and she realized it was likely that there was carpeting on the floor. She reached through the hole in the glass and undid the latch, pushing up on the wooden frame. The window resisted stiffly for a second, but then moved easily as she gave it a good shove. She quickly slipped her jacket back on, making sure the handcuffs hadn't fallen out of her pocket. She slid her gun back into the holster on her belt and lifted herself up onto the window sill and in, her slim body sliding easily through the opening. Her feet hit the carpeted floor and she had her gun out in seconds, held forward in both hands as she'd been taught.
She moved stealthily from the bedroom into the hallway. She was thankful for her martial arts training, moving her body silently across the floor like Kwai Chang Caine walking the rice paper. She poked her head into the living room, and then walked quietly to the kitchen. At the back of the kitchen, she saw the door she'd tried from the outside. Beside that there was another door that was ajar, and she figured that would be the second stair to the basement. She tiptoed closer, putting her ear to the opening in the door. Music started to play, and she heard the melodic strains of something slow and haunting. She could barely hear it and knew the volume must be really low, even in the room. She saw white light coming from beneath a closed door near the bottom of the stairs, but nothing beyond that.
Chin slowly opened the door further, pausing as it gave a weary creak. She hesitated, but no new sound or movement came from below. She eased the door open just enough to let her body pass through, and then proceeded slowly down the narrow wooden stairs, gun held up in both hands, her heart pounding like a jackhammer in her chest.
Every Breath You Take Page 71