Chapter 2: Desk Detecting

A short time later Bahn was at his desk, in his partitioned cubicle, in the large room used by the small group of field agents that make up the CSIS Trouble-Shooting section. Checking his computer, for more information on the four men murdered by the seasonal killer, Bahn had gleaned that they were all involved in politics, in one form or another, and that all had been killed in different regions of the country. Cross-referencing found that they seemed to have no case or issue in common and there was no apparent motive to link all of the murders together ... other than the greeting cards and the murder method with its sadistic, sexual overtones. Further checking found no deviant sexual behaviors noted and no scandals or reasons for blackmail.

One thing Bahn did take note of; the regions of the murders went from west to east and ended in Montreal. If that pattern remained true, the next murder would take place somewhere east of Montreal. But where and to whom?

Having done all he could do at the computer for now, Bahn made a haphazard effort to straighten up his desk and went home to his Cartier Square hi-rise apartment.

Checking the refrigerator and the sparse contents of his cupboard, Bahn grabbed a small pan and made himself a fried egg sandwich and a cup of tea. He was never much of a coffee drinker but would tolerate a cup, every so often, if he had to. Bahn always preferred a good cup of strong tea with milk and one sugar.

After his dinner, he lay back on the living room chesterfield, turned on the flat screen and picked up his Kindle, trying to read a little more of Alastair Phelan's novel before falling asleep to the news drone of CNN.

Bahn awoke to the late-April sunlight streaming through the curtainless doorwall of his apartment. Being on the eighth floor he didn't think anyone would ever try and peek in at him so he had removed the drapes long ago.

Stripping off yesterday's clothes, he stepped to the bathroom to relieve himself and started the water in his walk-in shower. As he leathered his lean-muscled body, he gave a lot of thought to this assignment he had been handed. His target, he realized, had been at each site of the killings and therefore must have left some common evidence. What he must do, he reasoned, was to find out what individual was at each of those locations on the days each victim was killed.

Toweling himself off, he decided that he would check the registries of the hotels when he got to the office.

Bahn then closely shaved and, as was his daily practice, used a Q-tip to remove the water from his ears. He noticed the warning on the box that stated DO NOT USE IN YOUR EAR CANAL and wondered what the hell else one would use them for as he tossed the box on the counter.

After pulling on one of his white shirts, his dark-blue knit suit and a printed tie, Bahn took the elevator down to the parking lot and jumped into the silver Prius that CSIS had provided for him. The car was a slug and he wished that they would have given him a shiny Dodge Challenger or a Chevy Impala or one of the faster Fords but, he reasoned, the Toyota was non-descript and got sensible gas mileage which was something the penny-pinching agency would be more interested in.

Pulling from the lot, Bahn followed his usual route, taking the 417 to the Blair exit and then north to the CSIS headquarters on Ogilvie, stopping first at Treats for a hot tea and a donut to go.

It had been unusually warm, so far this Spring, and the trees and flowers were blooming as the birds sang and the warm sun brightened everything, including Bahn's spirits.