Steve was splashing cold water on his face at the kitchen sink when Lizzy exited the bathroom. He ran a wet hand through his hair. It didn't improve the situation much.
"Did you sleep at all?" He asked as she opened the fridge, looking for something to eat.
"I guess I did." She pulled out a coke and handed it to Steve, "You look like you need this more than I do." Lizzy walked around him and grabbed the kettle off the stove and filled it at the tap. After retrieving a mug and tea bag from the cupboard, she sat down at the kitchen table.
Steve set the soda on the counter, as much as his body needing the caffeine, he couldn't quite face the cold beverage at this time of the morning. "What are your plans today? I really don't want you to be alone after last night."
"I have to be at work by 11. I guess I'll have to find someplace to stay later. One of my friends might be able put me up for a couple of days. For now, I think I'll head down to Nonna's. If I know her, she probably will want to open the deli today. Vince usually covers on Sundays but... I guess I'll help out until I have to go to work."
Lizzy turned off the stove, hoping Nonna would have coffee ready. Steve pulled out his wallet. "I need to go. Take a cab to work. Give me a call when you're done. Hopefully by then we can find you someplace to stay."
She was going to refuse the carfare, and the fuss, but she couldn't shake the fear she'd experienced last night, even though the whole situation made here feel a little silly. "Thanks, I'll pay you back. And thanks for rushing over here last night. I can never repay your kindness."
Steve gave her a tired smile and locked up the apartment before they walked down the stairs. As predicted, the deli was open and Steve made his exit to Bryant Street.
He looked in the rearview mirror and groaned upon entering the car. He longed for a shower and a change of clothes, but dared not delay, lest he incur the wrath of one Lieutenant Stone.
00000
Mike was standing by the coffeepot, refilling his cup when Steve came through the door. He poured a second cup after looking at his tired, rumpled partner.
"Unless I miss my guess, aren't those the same clothes you had on yesterday?"
"Geez, you must be a detective or something." Steve responded sarcastically before accepting the cup. "Yes, they are and I have perfectly good excuse…"
Mike was way ahead of him, the report of the prowler already on his desk, but could not resist spinning up his sometimes gullible friend.
"Save me your tales of Saturday night debauchery. When are you going to learn to grab a few hours of sleep when you can?"
Steve was too tired to take the bait, "Give it rest, Mike. I humbly bow to your great wisdom, oh learned one. Now, what have we got?"
Mike backed off. If Steve gave in that easy, he must truly be exhausted. He put his hand on Steve's arm. "I already know about the prowler at Grisko's apartment. Was there anything to it?"
"Maybe." Steve shrugged and drained his mug, quickly pouring another cup.
"Well, while you got your beauty sleep, or not, I got a hold of George Stein. He's meeting us in an hour to check out the locker. In the meantime, we have a date with Charlie down in the lab."
Steve rubbed the back of his neck. The thought of the day ahead suddenly overwhelming. "What about Kohler's apartment and the interview with Molinaro, should we split up?"
"Let's see what Charlie has for us before we make a decision."
They set down their cups and walked to the lab. Charlie was reviewing a file on his desk when the pair entered the office.
"You got results for us?" Mike asked before the door even closed.
"Where do you want to start, the van, the apartment or the trace on the latest victim?"
Mike gave no response so Charlie continued, pulling a typed sheet from the folder. "Let's start with the van. We found blood on the drop cloth, human blood. Not enough to compare to the victims, but its presence is pretty compelling. We also found linseed oil soaked into the carpet. It's almost like it was spilled and never cleaned up, probably the source of the trace on your victims. I already talked to Bernie this morning, there was linseed oil present on the Woodward girl and Gary Kohler, so we have it on all four victims. I'm fairly confident the vehicle was used to transport one, if not all of your bodies."
"How about prints?" Mike asked before Steve could open his mouth.
"How about 'em? We have dozens. They are still being processed."
"How does any of this help up? We were pretty sure it was used when we had it towed in." Steve exhaustion was demonstrating itself as a complete lack of patience for the obtuse scientist.
Charlie raised an eyebrow turned his focus to Mike. Mike smiled and patted Steve on the shoulder. "Excuse him, he suffers from a complete lack of manners sometimes, you know young people these days. Please continue."
Steve rolled his eyes, Charlie resumed. "We do have prints in common with ones we pulled at the Grisko apartment."
Now Steve was interested. "Have they been identified?"
"We don't have anything to compare them to. You get us a suspect, we'll compare the prints."
"What about the PRINTRAK* system they have over in San Jose? I heard they were having good results with it."
"Charlie looked surprised. "Where the heck did you hear about it?"
"Journals, I don't know. It's based on the FBI's system, isn't it?"
"Well, yeah, but it only works if your perp has a criminal record. Plus, we don't have access to it here in San Francisco. You got any contacts over there?"
"Possibly." Steve answered.
Mike looked on quizzically and finally spoke. "Boys, this is all very interesting, but how does it help us?"
"Even if we don't have a suspect, the computer can compare our samples to a database of criminals with print records on file, generating a short list of possibles. I think it will be the next big thing in police work." Charlie explained the system Steve had referenced.
The mention of the computer made Mike skeptical. "Sounds like some sort of electronic hocus pocus to me, but if we can't find anything else, we might have to give it a try." He addressed his next statement to Steve. "In the meantime, hotshot, how about we do some police work to old-fashioned way: shoe leather, investigation, interview and intuition?"
00000
"What are you thinking Mike?" Steve asked as they exited the building and got into the LTD. Mike had been very quiet on the way to the car and Steve could almost hear the wheels turning in his partner's head. He handed Mike the keys, too wrung out to even consider driving.
"I'm thinking about Walters. We need to find a reason to bring him in and get his prints. When we were looking at the obsession angle, he didn't seem like a viable suspect to me, but I'm convinced there is something else going on here. The conversation with Campbell, the secret trip to a dead man's apartment. Plus, he lied to us. Do you know if there was a connection between him and Woodward?"
"I couldn't say, but we can certainly ask Ms. Grisko about it." Steve was a tiny bit pleased Mike was now considering the arrogant art teacher as a suspect. "What about Molinaro?"
"I don't know, he doesn't seem the type to engineer a plot like this, but we'll still have to talk to him. He was printed when they brought him in, so we can get those to Charlie for comparison."
Mike pulled the car up in the lot behind the Institute. Steve had gone quiet, resting his head against the window on the trip to the institute. The Lieutenant was unsurprised at the low snores coming from the passenger seat. Looking at the dark circles beneath his eyes and the Technicolor bruising gracing his partner's jaw, he considered letting the young man nap, but a sharp rap on the window made it a moot point. Steve rubbed the sleep from his eyes as Mike rolled down the window.
The Dean's crossed arm posture exuded impatience and ire. "I'm glad you're on time. I'm not real happy about letting you see the contents of a student's locker. I think it sets a bad precedent, so let's get this over with."
In spite of the Dean's curt greeting, Mike addressed him pleasantly. "We appreciate your cooperation. Hopefully, there is something in the locker that will help us figure out this mess."
Steve pulled a flashlight from under the seat of the car. He and Mike exited, following Stein to his office. The Dean opened a file cabinet and pulled out the master locker list, copying the number on a card and handing it to Mike. "Now if you'll follow me, I'll show you where it is so we can get this over with and you can be on your way."
Steve looked at Mike, trying to read his reaction to the rude administrator's behavior. By his expression, Mike seemed to be getting the same strange vibe from the man.
"You know, if you just tell us where the locker is, we would be happy to continue on our own. We'll check out with the Security Guard on the Francisco Street entrance when we are done. Does that work for you?"
The Dean considered Steve's proposal. He was somewhat surprised Steve knew about the 24 hour security arrangements. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather keep an eye on what's going on."
Steve was out of patience with the uncooperative Mr. Stein and Mike knew it. Before he did anything to jeopardize their access to the locker, Mike put a restraining hand on the young man's shoulder. "That will be fine, Mr. Stein," Mike said with forced civility before he mouthed play nice to Steve. They exited the office.
Steve and Mike fell in step with the short, balding administrator and followed him through a maze of darkened hallways.
When he came to an abrupt stop, he held out his hand. "I assume you have the key, because if you don't, I think I'll need to call our lawyer and make sure this is legal."
Steve dug in his pocket, retrieved the small golden key and handed it to the Dean. He clicked on the flashlight as Stein opened the door. It really wasn't a locker in the traditional sense, more like a small storage closet about four foot square. Steve stepped in and swept the light over its entirety. The closet was empty.
"Well gentlemen, that little exercise was a titanic waste of my time. If there's nothing else, I'll show you out."
Steve stepped out of the closet. Stein grabbed the door, but before he could swing it shut, Mike stopped him. He reached over and retrieved a small white envelope, which was taped to the back of the door.
*PRINTRAK was one of several precursors to the AFIS system, designed by the Rockwell Corporation. While final comparisons were done by human experts it could generate a list of possible matches. It was in use in several cities, including San Jose, in the US in the early 1970's. The San Francisco Police finally began using it full time in 1984.