He was seeing Gretchen again, off and on…and he was trying to start working again.
Life had gone back to it's same dull grind as it had before. Nothing had really changed but a source of murders.
Jigsaw had struck again…the details were hardly shown in the newspaper, but they had gotten a good description on who had committed these murders, and Adam was brought back to the station. They had raided an old warehouse on the other side of the city…full of evidence. There they had met the man who called himself Jigsaw.
His name was John Kramer
Reading the file to himself in the police room, Adam lipped the words and couldn't believe it.
John was a fifty-six year old college professor from back East who had made a great deal of money from his father's old cast iron workshop. Very little was known about him…only that his wife who he married later on his life was only forty-three when she died during childbirth, and that he moved to the city with enough state funds to keep a low profile.
He had been treated for cancer at Lawrence's hospital.
"That's him…"
Adam said to himself, looking up at the detective.
As far as the police told him, and the newspapers that Jigsaw had kidnapped a small group of people. The location had never been found and there was only one survivor who wouldn't comment. In fact it was Detective Mathews' son who was now spending time at a local state hospital.
He hadn't spoken since then.
Adam gave his statement, and came back home where he found Gretchen sitting on the couch smoking a joint. Sitting beside her in utter shock he stared up at the ceiling and felt alone again.
Work hadn't been that good, he refused to use to old camera, or the dark room…so most of the money he made off the newspapers went to some equipment for his new digital, and he worked making small enough cheeks to barely support himself.
His sister still refused to talk to him.
The media kept offering him money to appear on TV or take a statement, but he wouldn't.
Drinking now every night, and fighting with Gretchen, he found his life still unchanged.
What a waste.
Sitting on the floor of his apartment, smoking a cigarette he eyed a few shots he had taken and printed out on his computer and tried to see which one he would send out. His rock music blasting he tried to focus when a knock came on the door.
Pausing he checked his watch and saw it was late. Standing up and turning down the music he went to the door and answered it. Amanda stood there.
Adam stood in total shock.