I drove past the outreach center, scowling as I saw that the doors were closed by a metal gate. Obviously the people who ran the center were smart enough to maintain a certain level of security on the building. But that also meant I wouldn’t have the chance to talk to Reverend Thomas tonight. There was a small group of about half a dozen people clustered out front, though. I peered at them as I drove by, then smiled in satisfaction as I recognized a face. Reverend Thomas wasn’t the only one who might have some information.
I parked a short distance down the street, then grabbed my stack of pictures and made my way toward the group. They parted before me, giving me a wide berth. Even in plain clothes, I knew that my whole bearing shrieked “Cop!” I scanned the faces quickly, giving them small, tight nods—nothing too friendly just yet.
“Whatcha want here, Sarge?” A grizzled black man with a shortage of teeth spoke. He looked to be in his mid to late forties, with broad shoulders, thick muscles, and scarred knuckles. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at me.
I gave the speaker an easy smile. I knew this one, which was why I’d decided to stop and talk to him. I’d arrested Tio a number of times, but I was always cool with him and he was always cool with me in return. He’d never gone so far as to be an informant, but he helped me out in other ways, such as vouching for my integrity to others who weren’t sure that I could be trusted. Once upon a time, Tio had tried to make it as a boxer, but then he lost one fight too many and ended up eking out a living by more-questionable means. He’d had fights with most of the other cops in the department, but I was always able to talk him into the handcuffs. Good thing, too, since I knew he could totally kick my ass.
“Hey, Tio. Just looking for some people,” I said as disarmingly as I could. “I ain’t bringing no trouble here tonight.”
He curled his lip. “Wit’ warrants? No one here gonna help you snatch up folk.”
I shook my head. “No, man, it ain’t like that. I ain’t hookin’ anyone. I’m looking for some people to make sure they don’t get hurt. You know, I’m doing that protecting-and-serving shit.” I gave him a grin. My years as a street cop had taught me many things, and the most important one was that it was a whole lot easier to get help from people if you were nice and friendly with them. The second-most-important thing I’d learned was that there was also a time to stop being nice and friendly.
To my relief, he laughed. “Protect and serve! Yeah, you right. So how you gonna protect and serve us out here?”
I could sense the others in the group watching the interplay intently. I knew that getting any help from them depended completely on what happened with Tio. I pulled out the picture of Greg and showed it to him. “See this guy? I’m trying to find out if anyone out here has ever seen him around, talking to anyone, offering them jobs or anything like that.”
Tio glanced at the picture, then shook his head. “Nah, he looks too friendly and nice to be down here. He’d stand out like … like a little ladycop.” He tipped his head back and laughed.
I laughed with him, allowing myself to share in the joke. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m telling you, I wouldn’t be doing shit this crazy if I didn’t really want to help these people out.” I leaned in a bit closer. “Look, y’all know about the Symbol Man, right?”
Tio scowled. “That is some fucked-up shit, ladycop.”
“I know it is, Tio,” I said, lowering my voice. “But I’m gonna catch that fucker.” I pulled out the photos taken from Greg’s house of the latest victim—photos that showed her as a living, breathing, smiling person, not as a shredded, tortured corpse. I passed the top photo to Tio. “This is his last victim. You know who that is?”
Tio’s expression went stony. “Yeah. I know her. Knew her. Katy, dunno her last name. Saw on the news that someone else had been cut up by this asshole. Didn’t know it was her.”
I kept my face from betraying my elation at the identification, partial though it was. It was still far more than we’d had. “It was bad, Tio. You know I’ve seen some nasty-ass shit, but this guy’s the worst.” I gave him a level look. “I really need the help of y’all on the street.”
“Katy was cool,” he said as he pushed off the wall. “She was a bit fucked up, but she was tryin’ hard. She didn’t deserve that shit.”
“No one deserves what this guy is doing.”
Tio cracked his thick knuckles. “Lemme see that first guy again?”
I handed the pic over, trying not to let my relief and excitement show. Tio stepped into the light from the street-lamp and peered more seriously at the photo.
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I seen this guy around. He comes and sits in the center here and draws, and then pays people ten or twenty bucks or so to pose for him. Seen him other places too.”
“Where else?” I fought to stay calm. I couldn’t appear too eager for the information or it was going to start costing me.
Tio scratched his stubbled chin as he considered. “Shit, I dunno. Mebbe down in the park.”
“Does he ever take pictures of the people when they pose?”
Tio nodded. “Yeah, that’s usually what he does. So is this the guy? This the killer?” He clenched his hands into fists. “Man, I will fuck his shit up next time I see him!”
I reached out and took the picture from Tio’s hand. “No. He’s dead now. The Symbol Man got him too.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.” I pulled out the page that I’d created with the pics of the unidentified people on it. The ones who I hoped were still alive. “How about these people? Do you know where I can find them?”
Tio peered at the page, then motioned one of the other bystanders over. A skinny white male with poor-quality tattoos on his arms shuffled up. Tio showed the page to him.
“I think I know some of these folk,” the second man said. “I mean, not personal, like, but just seen ’em out, y’know?”
“I really need to find these people,” I said. “I think that they might be in danger from the Symbol Man.”