The Night Crew

three-thirty-seven,’’ the manager said, bobbing his head. ‘‘He has been much on the television, yes? You see him on the television? He’s a hero, yes?’’
    Anna, smiling. Bobbing her head: ‘‘Yes, a hero . . .’’ Outside.
    ‘‘Get the key?’’
    ‘‘Got it.’’
    ‘‘Hope they don’t notice.’’
    ‘‘We’d have to be pretty unlucky—some of the apartments have two or three keys, some don’t have any.’’
    ‘‘Hope the key works.’’
    ‘‘Hope we don’t find a body.’’
    ‘‘Don’t even think it.’’ The key worked. They stepped inside, and Anna flipped on the lights. ‘‘Hello? Charles? Chuck?’’ They were in the living room with a TV set, a love seat, an unmatched easy chair with a missing leg replaced by a paperback novel. An adjoining kitchen dining area was off to the right, and another door went to the left. Anna stepped quickly over to the door: A bedroom. A knot of sheets on a futon, but no blankets. The place smelled of Cool Ranch Doritos.
    ‘‘Let’s get through it quick,’’ Anna said. ‘‘You look for a Rolodex or address book or anything . . . I’ll just see what he’s got.’’
    ‘‘Got a phone number,’’ Harper said a minute later. ‘‘It’s on a refrigerator magnet. I think he uses it.’’
    ‘‘Okay. We can get it to Louis . . .’’
    Anna had instinctively gone to the bedroom. McKinley didn’t have a chest of drawers, and had built a group of shelves with bricks and unpainted pine boards. T-shirts, underwear and jeans were stacked on the shelves; a small closet held a couple of jackets, some oxford cloth shirts, two pairs of athletic shoes, one pair of worn-out loafers and dustbunnies the size of softballs.
    The futon was on a frame: she picked up the head end of it, looked underneath. A shoebox. She pulled the shoebox out, opened the lid, and found a half-dozen videotapes, all commercial, all pornographic.
    ‘‘What?’’ Harper asked, sticking his head in the door.
    ‘‘Porno,’’ Anna said. ‘‘A couple of bondage tapes. That might indicate a fantasy thing with capturing people.’’
    ‘‘Yeah, well, probably a hundred thousand guys have bondage tapes. And not all the tapes are bondage.’’
    ‘‘All right. But something to keep in mind.’’ She put the box back.
    Harper said, ‘‘I hate going through a guy’s stuff like this. I’d hate to have somebody do it to me.’’
    ‘‘You have a box of porno tapes?’’
    ‘‘No. But I’ve got letters and pictures of old friends . . . Nothing that I wouldn’t show anyone, but I wouldn’t want somebody just trashing through it.’’
    ‘‘Interesting, though,’’ Anna said. ‘‘Get to see what people are really like.’’
    ‘‘Probably why you’re good at your job,’’ Harper said. He headed back to the kitchen and a moment later, said, ‘‘He’s got an answering machine.’’
    Anna had found nothing at all: ‘‘Run it back.’’
    The messages were all routine, most of them were from the same woman. The last one, time-stamped at six o’clock that evening, was male: ‘‘Molly said bring some Diet Pepsi, that’s all the Lees ever drink.’’
    ‘‘Find a Molly?’’ Anna asked.
    ‘‘There’s an address book . . .’’ Harper walked to the kitchen counter, picked up a plastic address book with a bank advertisement on the cover. He found a Molly on the first page, with a phone number. He checked, and it was the same phone number as the one on the refrigerator magnet.
    ‘‘Let’s go look,’’ Anna said.
    ‘‘What’re we gonna do if we find him?’’ Harper asked. ‘‘We already lost the first guy we tried to follow . . .’’
    ‘‘Screw it: We don’t have any time. Let’s brace him. I’ll know the voice.’’ Louis turned the phone number into a name and address, and the address was a small apartment three blocks from the university.
    ‘‘Upscale,’’ Harper said.
    The apartment had inner and outer doors, the inner doors locked, but a row of mailboxes showed one ‘‘M. O’Neill’’ on the second floor. Anna picked up the house phone and buzzed the apartment. A woman answered, and Anna said, ‘‘Is this Molly?’’
    ‘‘Yes?’’
    ‘‘My name is Anna Batory. I’m looking for Charles Mc-Kinley, and I was hoping he might be here.’’
    ‘‘Just a minute . . .’’ McKinley came down, surprised to see her. Pushed open the inner door so they could go inside. ‘‘How’d you find