Mac's Voice-over:
Okay, I know I told Pete that I'd give it two days, but ... after reading through all the police reports and the files that Mahey sent over, something was nagging at me and I wasn't going to be able to sort it out sitting on my butt in a safe house. So when the shift changed and the new officer settled down in front of the TV to watch the late late show, I eased the window open and slipped out onto the ledge.

Someone must have known that I didn't like heights, when they picked this place ...

Weapon of Opportunity
Part Four: Windows of Opportunity

Mac closed his eyes against the dizziness that assailed him as he looked down at a three-story drop. Take a deep breath and focus on the handholds, he told himself.

Looking up, he saw a drainpipe that was firmly bolted to the stonework, running from the roof to the pavement below. Hoping that it would be strong enough for long enough, he climbed slowly up to the roof, preferring to climb up ten feet of finger-and-toeholds to risking his weight on those rusty bolts trying to shimmy down. A convenient fire escape provided him with a safer descent, and then the night swallowed him up like a dream.

I knew where I was going to start, and I would have to cover a lot of ground first. I hailed the first taxi I could find and got lucky; he was hungry enough to skip his dinner break to take me where I wanted to go. I paid him off and pocketed the receipt. It had occurred to me that if the killer struck while I was AWOL, it would look pretty bad for me.

It was a long, long night.

The next morning, the sunlight broke through the fog long enough to shine irritatingly into the eyes of an exhausted man.

Mac was sitting at the table in his suite, tired and frustrated. He pillowed his head on his folded arms and wished for sleep. The thing that had been nagging him earlier was still nagging him now. He felt that he had wasted a whole evening and accomplished nothing.

"Mac, you look awful." Pete Thornton arrived promptly at 8 o'clock. He set his briefcase on the table and cocked his head at MacGyver. "Don't they let you sleep when you're in protective custody?"

Mac glanced up and offered his friend Pete feeble smile. "Sleep is for sissies." He ran his fingers through his hair, realizing that he could use a shower and a shave. "Actually, I'd take what I could get. I just can't sleep with ... this ... hanging over me." He gestured at the pile of case folders he had spread across the table. He had read them so many times he felt he knew them by heart. "Pete, let me get cleaned up. I can't even think right now."

"Go ahead," Pete clapped him on the shoulder. "I've got a few phone calls to make. Hopefully by the time you get out of the shower, I'll have some news."

The hot water worked wonders on Mac. By the time he came out of his room, dressed in fresh clothes that Pete had brought him, he felt almost coherent. He rolled up the sleeves of the blue flannel shirt and leaned over Pete's shoulder to see what he was reading.

"What'cha got there, Pete?"

"Hopefully something that will help us figure out this puzzle," answered Pete. He shifted to one side so that Mac could see the papers more clearly. Mac hooked a chair leg with his foot and pulled it up so that he could sit beside Pete. "I fed the available data into the Phoenix computers. We have a new program to create profiles on people, based on their behavior and environment. It's supposed to help catch serial criminals and even offer predictions on crime waves. It's still in an experimental stage, but I figured we could use any advantage."

"You figured right," Mac said. "We need all the help we can get." He stifled a yawn and blinked at the paper. Once he started reading he forgot his weariness. "Pete, have you read this stuff?"

"I scanned through it on the way over here. I didn't see anything that jumped out at me."

Mac frowned at the papers, his eyes flicking as he rapidly read through the reports. "It's all here, but in this format ... the patterns should be easier to pick out." He read through the last sheet, and then started over. Pete shook his head and stood up, walked to the door and opened it.

In the lounge outside of Mac's suite, two police officers were sitting and drinking coffee. "Morning, fellas," Pete said. "Do you think we could get a pot of that coffee in here?"

"Yes, sir."

By the time Pete had returned to the desk, he found Mac in a state somewhere between excitement and despair. He was digging through the police files and then referring to the new reports.

"Mac? What is it? Have you found something?" Pete was beginning to become seriously concerned about his friend.

"Nothing! There is no pattern ... no similarities between the victims ... it's insane!" Mac let the papers fall to the desk and covered his eyes with his hands. "Pete, I went out ..." Mac stopped abruptly as a brief knock sounded against the door and it opened.

One of the policemen brought in a tray with Mac's breakfast and a pot of coffee. He was a young officer, obviously new to the service. "Good morning, Mr. MacGyver. Detective Mahey told us to take good care of you. I hope this is all right for breakfast. Just let us know if you need anything else."

"Thank you," Mac answered sincerely. He took the tray and set it on a chair, since the table was covered with papers. When the door closed behind him, Mac didn't have a chance to continue his sentence before Pete spoke.

"What do you mean, you 'went out'?" Pete demanded softly.

Mac sighed and answered in a whisper, "I went out to visit the crime scenes. I found nothing. Most of the places had been cleaned up. Two of the places already have new tenants. I spent more time climbing fire escapes last night than a cat burglar."

"Mac!"

"I know … I know. I was careful and, aside from one friendly cab driver, nobody saw me. Anyway, I didn't find anything, so it was a huge waste of time. There is no evidence here or out there that suggests a single suspect or even hints at a motive! It's as if the killer is striking at random, whenever he sees an opportunity ..." Mac's voice trailed off as he stared out the window. "Windows of opportunity ..." he muttered, reaching out to touch the glass.

Pete frowned at him. "Mac ...?"

Mac didn't answer right away. He had turned from the window and was shuffling through the papers to find the city map that he had laid out the night before, with each place that he planned to visit marked and the best routes between them highlighted.

"Pete! That's it!" Mac exclaimed, excitement returning.

"What?"

"Windows! The places where those people died! They were all on upper levels of buildings, and they all had big windows. That's how he chose his victims! It only seems random, but logically, he had to pick by some method, and I think ..." Mac scanned over the map until he found the first victim's location. "If this is actually the first victim then we might be able to find the killer, if he's also in the line of sight. Why didn't I see it earlier?" Mac berated himself. "A killer strikes at what he sees. Somehow, he saw the first victim here, and he looked out of the windows and saw the next victim ... I can't tell line-of-sight by the city maps, though. I'll have to go to each place again."

Pete scrutinized the papers and traced the route on the map. MacGvyer's excitement was beginning to infect him, but he didn't let it carry him away. "Okay, Mac. Let's call Mahey and tell him your theory. But I think it would be a good idea not to tell him about your nocturnal meanderings." Pete gave Mac a meaningful glare.

Mac ducked his head to hide his grin. "You call Mahey. I'm going to grab half an hour of sleep. Have some breakfast, Pete!" He stuffed the cab receipt into Pete's breast pocket. "Here. This is the only guy who saw me last night. If I need it, he can alibi me from one a.m. 'til two. G'night."

Mac lay down on the bedspread and closed his eyes for the first time in two days. He was asleep within minutes.