Recycle - 10. Chapter 10

But it didn’t, and the shooter was active again, hitting two more students. Though these weren’t on the UMass campus and neither used darts. And one of the students wasn’t really a student.

“He occasionally takes classes at Greenfield,” Elena told the group. “But he’s mainly dropped out.”

“How old is he?” Ike wondered.

“Twenty-four. But he looks younger.”

“Does he work?” Rob followed.

“Yes... at the same job he had in college – a computer tech. He said he can always do that so doesn’t need school – especially a BA. But he also admits he’s lazy and probably drinks too much.”

“So this is another guy who passed out?” Owen questioned. “I’m always amazed there are so many.”

“At least, they’re not driving,” Rob joked.

“And if the shooter drives far enough,” Jae pointed out, “and hit bars as they’re closing, maybe it’s easy to find drunks.”

“That’s stalking,” Owen reminded them. “I wonder if it’s priming, too – if the shooter buys drinks for likely guys.”

“I’ll ask this one,” Elena answered. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Or bets drinks on pool games,” Don suggested. “Or darts.”

“That would be ironic,” Jae said.

“It’s an easy way to get a guy drunk,” Don added.

“You think the drinks are spiked?” Elena wondered. “Since we know the shooter has drugs.”

“Could be that, too,” Rob answered. “Though guys usually go into bars with friends. That’s why they’re there – to see the same gang every night.”

“The one in Greenfield usually walks home,” Elena explained. “He said it’s only a few blocks, and his friends know it so don’t offer lifts. He said it also clears his head.”

“Didn’t work last night,” Ike cracked.

“How far did he get?” Owen pushed on.

“A block and a half down a dark alley,” Elena told them.

“Sounds like a spiked drink,” Owen admitted.

“I’ll follow that up,” Elena agreed. “Maybe go talk with him now. I know where he works, and it could be better than phoning.”

When she came back, she had news. “Yes, the guy had been playing pool for drinks. But it had just been his birthday, so his friends were still buying him extras. And last night, he was only with people he knew.”

“The shooter must’ve been watching,” Owen deduced. “Rather than driving all over the place. It must sit in bars, looking for drunks, but not making contact or helping them along.”

“And if the shooter hits someone who goes home early,” Ike suggested, “like you said this guy did, Elena, ‘cause he has to work. Then there’s time to find someone else.”

“That’s only been the past couple of days,” Elena reminded them. “That the shooter’s hitting two a night.

“Then does the publicity help?” Jae asked. “Maybe the more the shooter gets, the more shootings.”

“I wonder something else,” Elena started, though she was still working through. “Is there a chance the shooter follows someone who’s not close to passing out but is too drunk to think clearly? And shoots this person, but the person never realizes it and keeps walking?”

“It’s dangerous to mix drugs and drinks,” Ike warned.

“But we haven’t had any bad reactions yet,” Elena pointed out.

“And the shooter seems careful,” Don reminded them.

“It was just a thought,” Elena admitted.

“Who was the second one? Last night?” Owen asked.

“Someone who fits this pattern,” Elena resumed, “that’s why I was thinking about it. This woman didn’t think she was drunk. In fact, she was planning to drive. But her car was still on campus, and it wasn’t late – barely midnight – so she walked the half-mile, along well-lit streets.”

“And never felt a dart?” Rob asked.

“She never mentioned it. I’ll have to call her again.”

After Elena did, she confirmed, “The woman said she didn’t feel a dart or wouldn’t have kept walking. She knew about our warnings and insisted she would have called a friend to pick her up.”

“Hmm,” Owen observed. “We’re getting all these variations.”

“But no real pattern,” Ike agreed.

“Except the shooter knows what it’s doing,” Don considered. “And it likes publicity – lots of it. So long as it’s good.”

“I wonder if we’re doing this backwards,” Elena suddenly suggested. “What if we asked the media – the TV stations and all the Internet reporters – to stop mentioning the tattoos. Just focus on the darts and the danger and the crimes that are being committed. Nothing about recycling.”

“There’s assault,” Owen started to list. “And breaking and entering... And stalking...”

“It could frustrate the shooter,” Elena went on, “and encourage it to keep adding more. And the more shootings with no mention of recycling, the more frustration. Until – if we’re lucky – the shooter slips up.”

“Could we set a trap?” Jae asked. “I still look young enough to be a student – it’s only been two years. I could wander someplace, obviously drunk, and then stretch out and go to sleep – maybe on the edge of the Fine Arts reflecting pool.”

“I don’t want you doing that,” Owen insisted.

“Why? Because I’m a woman?”

“No – because you’re too intelligent. You’d always have the wrong moves – too well thought out – even if you were playing drunk. If this was going to work, we’d need a dumb UMass freshman. The campus police have work/study students, and I’ll bet they could find one who’s willing.”

“It’s worth a try,” Jae agreed. “How soon can you set it up?”

“Elena, why don’t you?” Owen directed. “Since you’ve been handling this.”

“Will we need a wire?” she asked.

“Not if the shooter’s rolling up shirts,” Don pointed out. “That would give it away.”

“Then a camera,” Elena continued. “If the student takes a planned route, and pretends to pass out in a particular place that we have monitored, then as soon as anyone approaches, we can be there.”

“Let’s try it,” Owen said. See how many nights it takes.”

“I’ll have the student use the nearest bar to the freshman dorms,” Elena went on. “And go to the bar with friends, just in case the shooter’s tracking them. Then the guy can seem to be getting drunk without actually drinking – extremely drunk. Then he can wander away on his own.”

“Sounds good,” Owen agreed. “Set it up. It may be our best solution.”