Name’s Cassie Germaine, a cellist with the Manhattan Symphony. Boyfriend dropped her off after a date, per jumped her as she came in, tore her dress off. Looks like he raped her. Any witnesses? None. Who called it in? The alarm was triggered when she didn’t key in the code. Where is she now? Bedroom. Guy did a number on her.
“I blacked out. When I woke up, my head was bleeding, and he shredded my clothes and cut my hair.”
Did he say anything?
“No.”
Mind if I showed them? I gotta get to the hospital.
“I’ll ride along.”
I got something here.
What’s that?
You see the lens? That’s a camera. It’s a micro mini, found it in the debris. Somebody watched the whole thing.
“Still watching. See? It’s wired into the lamp, drawing juice off the apartment electrical.”
Find any more cameras?
“Not yet.”
What’s that gizmo?
“It’s an RF scanner. Each camera transmits on its own assigned frequency. I’m picking something up here. Hold this for me.”
That’s a good angle.
F. Morales, what have you got?
“Focused on the bed. I got hangnails bigger than this thing. Found another one. Bird’s eye view of a toilet and a shower.”
How many is that?
“Four so far. One in the living room, two in the bedroom, and this…”
“We got ourselves a high-tech peeping Tom. Where’s he peeping from?”
Hard to say. These cameras use wireless transmitters with no hardline to trace. He could be next door or on the next block.
What kind of range are we talking about?
“150 to 300 yards, depending on signal strength.”
Well, that narrows our search to a couple of thousand apartments and offices.
Munch and Finn called from the concert hall. It’s been another attack. Just walked in, heard the scream all the way from the lobby.
What happened?
“They came back from a break, found a message for Cassie.”
What kind of message?
“See for yourself. Was stuck between his strings. Looks like it’s written in blood.”
“Guys, over here. What’s that?”
Looks like a telephone junction box, and that’s probably a DSL line.
“You know what hooks my computer up to the worldwide web?”
Can you give me a hand here, please?
“There’s your receiver connected to a laptop, and those four outputs correspond to the four cameras.”
And what’s that laptop for?
“It’s probably running a video streaming program and transmitting the pictures over this.”
“Anywhere I can plug in another computer?”
“You mean he’s sending his video out over the Internet?”
Welcome to the information age. Turns out our perp’s hosting his own website. Picked up a video signal using a receiver located in a building on the next block and then sent it out over a DSL line.
Charge of the security company. How many hits to the website?
“According to the internet service provider, a lot of hits, but only one computer doing a hit.”
Who is it?
“It’s a guy named Terry Willard. 23rd in the last.”
Terry Willard, New York City detectives, open up. He’s not in any trouble, is he?
“This is a warrant. Could you open that door, please? Would you stand aside, please?”
Any idea where Terry is?
“Probably at work.”
What did he do?
“It’s just part of the investigation.”
Got a key for this?
“No.”
Guys, check this out.
“Now, that’s devotion. He’s almost finished with another roll. More pics to add to his collection. Indiana University, 1997. He’s been stalking her since then. Talk about your groupie from hell. Terry’s your number one fan.”
These four images are a composite from the hardware in Terry’s apartment. How’d he do it?
“He downloads the images from all four cameras into his computer, where he edits the video and transfers it to a DVD. His director’s cut. He’s finished 20 days complete with music. Is this the day of the attack?”
“Yeah, this is the morning, still unedited. Fast forward to that night. This is where he blitzed her. Door was shut, lost all the light.”
Sorry, there’s no one like Cassie.
“Now, you guys don’t seem to run in the same circles. How did you meet?”
“I was taking a shortcut through the School of Music when I heard someone playing a cello. I moved to the open door, and I saw her alone on stage. I stood there listening, and when she finished, she looked up and saw me, and she smiled. Connected from then on. I knew we’d be together for the rest of our lives.”
I’m going to get a UN on Cassie.
“I don’t trust this guy.”
Too late. Cassie Germaine’s been shot.
“Amy, I’m in kind of a hurry. I’m making dinner for a friend in Brooklyn. Want us to give you a lift?”
“I have a cab waiting.”
We’re looking for Terry. He hasn’t been home since he got out of jail.
How’d he get this?
“Where did you find that?”
“At an internet cafe, where he was visiting his favorite website.”
“You know Cassie’s great ass hits there must be some kind of mistake. Someone shot Cassie this morning, not Terry. He’s the gentlest man I know.”
We just want to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.
“You got him all wrong, detective. If you hear from him, you’ll let us know, right?”
“I will. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late.”
Do you believe that song and dance about a friend in Brooklyn? Hell, let’s tail her.
“All of these are for her.”
What does the card say?
“Hold on together forever. Love me.”
Where is he?
“Delivery guy has dropped him off.”
Hey, hey, what? What did I do?
Let me see some ID. Who sent the flowers?
“Not a clue. I just deliver.”
Girlfriend’s on the move. She’s changed cabs twice, rote all over H and back, finally landed at some dive in Spanish Harlem.
I’d make book on it. She’s in room 602. We got the hotel room.
Amy, where’s Terry?
“He’s gone.”
Why are you still here?
“I had to take a shower. I was going to take him home to Oklahoma so we could make a new life, but Terry wouldn’t leave that…”
“You mean Cassie.”
“I warned her to leave him alone.”
So you attacked her, you cut her hair?
“Well, she wouldn’t listen, so you shot her.”
“I had to stop her. I’m the only one who really loves him.”
Hell of a way to show it.
“I didn’t know what else to do. She has so many men. Terry is all that I have.”
