The Fourth Monkey: A twisted thriller you won’t be able to put down. J.D. Barker

back down at 9:06 this morning.”

      “That’s only a few minutes before Metro arrived,” Clair said.

      “I’m willing to bet that’s our missing housekeeper,” Porter said. “Can you run that by the front desk at Flair Tower? Ask if they can provide a full name?”

      “Will do,” Kloz said, making a note.

      Porter drew in a breath. “All right, that brings us to the man of the hour, our victim from this morning.” He told the group what they had learned from Eisley.

      “Shit, he was dying?” Kloz said.

      “Less than a month left.”

      “Do you think he stepped in front of that bus intentionally?”

      “I think we need to consider that a possibility,” Porter replied. He wrote 4MK on the board and listed the following:

      Dry cleaner receipt

      Expensive shoes — two sizes too big

      Cheap suit

      Fedora

      .75 in change (two quarters, two dimes, and a nickel)

      Pocket watch

      Dying of stomach cancer

      “I can’t believe the fucker was dying,” Kloz muttered, picking at something on his arm.

      Porter tapped on the whiteboard. “What do the personal items tell us?”

      “The dry cleaner receipt is a bust,” Clair said. “Aside from the number, there’s no identifying information, not even the name or address of the cleaners. It’s from a generic receipt book that can be ordered from hundreds of shops online. Half the cleaners in the city use the same one.”

      “Kloz, I want you on that. Create a list of all cleaners within five miles of the accident this morning, and contact each one. Find out if they use this particular type of receipt. If they do, ask if number 54873 is active. Obviously, 4MK won’t be picking it up. Even if you find more than one, we’ll be able to narrow down the list as the other tickets get closed out. If you don’t find anything, expand your search grid. He was walking, though — I think the cleaners will be close.”

      Kloz waved at him. “I accept your challenge.”

      Nash scanned the board. “What do we do about the suit and shoes?”

      “Kloz can check all the shoe stores while he’s running the dry cleaners,” Clair said.

      Kloz raised his middle finger and stuck his tongue out at her.

      Porter stared at the board a moment. “I’d rather Kloz focused on the cleaners. The size mismatch definitely bugs me too, but it’s just noise right now. We’ll keep the info on the board in case it comes into play later.”

      “Coins aren’t much of a clue, either,” Nash pointed out. “Everyone in this room probably has a pocket of change right now.”

      Porter considered erasing the seventy-five cents, then changed his mind. “We’ll leave that up there too.” He turned to Watson. “Any luck on the pocket watch?”

      “I’ll head over to my uncle’s shop once we finish up here,” he replied.

      Porter turned back to the board. “I think we’ll find him with this,” he said as he drew a line under DYING OF CANCER. “Eisley said he found octreotide, trastuzumab, oxycodone, and lorazepam in his system. Trastuzumab can only be administered by a handful of centers in the city. We need to reach out to each of them with a description of 4MK and hunt for missing patients.”

      “I can do that,” Clair said. “How many fedora-wearing, cheap suit buying, expensive shoe owning stomach cancer patients can there possibly be out there? That’s where the clothing items will help us. He’d stand out walking into a treatment center dressed like that.”

      “Good point,” Porter said. “Eisley also found a small tattoo on the man’s right inner wrist.” He loaded the image onto his phone’s screen and passed it around the room. “It’s fresh. Eisley said he probably got inked within the past week.”

      Kloz studied it closely. “Is that an infinity symbol? Kinda ironic for a guy on his way out the exit door.”

      “It obviously meant something to him,” Clair said, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look. “If you’re going to permanently mark your body, you put some serious thought behind your ink.”

      Kloz grinned up at her. “Speaking from experience? Is there something you want to show the group?”

      She winked at him. “You wish, geek boy.”

      Porter reached into his pocket, removed the diary, and dropped it onto the table. “Then there’s this.” They all fell silent for a moment and stared at it.

      “Shit, I thought Nash made that up,” Kloz said. “The fucker really had a diary on him? Did you log that into evidence? There’s no reference on the case log.”

      Porter shook his head. “I don’t want the press to know. Not yet.”

      Kloz whistled. “4MK’s handwritten manifesto? Hell, that’s worth a fortune.”