I Am Death

Eighteen

The Missing Persons investigators had knocked on every door on Allenwood Road and questioned everyone in the houses, including staff if there were any. No one had seen anything. But, up on those hills, that was hardly surprising.

Hollywood Hills might have given out the impression of being a laid-back neighborhood, but the truth was it was more like a secret society with unspoken rules. The reason why so many actors and musicians loved those hills so much was because no matter what happened up here, people tended to keep their mouth shut and to mind their own business. Up on those hills, nothing ever seemed excessive. No one, no matter how odd they looked, no matter how flamboyantly or minimally dressed they were, ever seemed suspicious or out of place. Over the years, Hollywood Hills’ residents had been practically conditioned to look the other way.

The mistake that Missing Persons had made was that they had only questioned people about the night of the abduction.

So far, from the little they had, Hunter and Garcia had already deduced that this killer was very meticulous, and though he could’ve abducted Nicole Wilson from a multitude of locations, he had chosen to do it from inside the Bennetts’ house. Why?

Other than the killer wanting to show off how bold and arrogant he was, the obvious answer was because Allenwood Road was a very quiet street, which severely reduced the risk of the killer being spotted as he dragged his victim out of the house and into a vehicle. But the twist was — neither detective had known how quiet the road really was until they had driven up there.

And the killer wouldn’t have known either without checking for himself.

‘The killer must’ve made at least one recon trip up here prior to the abduction night,’ Garcia said.

Three houses to their left, a man who looked to be in his early sixties stepped out of the front door carrying a golf bag, placed it in the trunk of the Mercedes E-Class that was parked in front of the house, jumped into the driver’s seat and slowly drove away.

‘That’s what I would’ve done,’ Hunter accepted it. ‘If all I wanted to do was to figure out if this road was quiet enough or not. But that wouldn’t have been enough for this guy. He’s too careful. He would’ve wanted specifics.’ He pointed to the car as it drove away. ‘And for that, he would’ve had to survey this road for days.’

Garcia looked a little unsure. ‘Specifics?’

‘Routine,’ Hunter replied. ‘Every street has one. Especially one as exclusive as this. We all do it, Carlos. We all stick to routines because we’re creatures of habit. We go to the gym at specific times, on specific days, or out for a game of golf, or poker nights, or ballet classes, or long walks, or whatever. This killer has planned this abduction too well to risk being spotted coming out of this house carrying his victim by someone going out or coming back from a yoga class. He would’ve wanted to know how this street works. He would’ve wanted to know its routine.’

Hunter turned and faced the Bennetts’ house.

‘But would you like to know something that wasn’t a routine?’ he asked.

Garcia thought about it for a second. ‘The evenings Nicole Wilson babysat for the Bennetts.’

‘Exactly. It happened sporadically. They would only call her when something came up. And according to what Ms. Bennett told Missing Persons,’ Hunter nodded at the files sitting on the passenger seat, ‘she’d called Nicole around noon on the day she was abducted asking if she could babysit that night. It was sort of a last-minute thing. And without knowing beforehand which day he would strike... ’

‘The killer would’ve had to have surveyed this street for an entire week,’ Garcia agreed. ‘Know its movements, its habits, day by day.’

Hunter nodded. ‘It wouldn’t have been foolproof, but it sure would’ve given him a much better idea of what he should try to avoid. We need to run a door-to-door again. Maybe, if we’re lucky, somebody might’ve noticed something on the days leading up to the abduction.’