Sitting on the motel bed, Arthur started to look for the picture he had clicked last night. The picture was in bad quality the flash has reflected from the window glass to back in the camera. Arthur zoomed at the registration plate of the killer's truck. The numbers were visible but only the last digit was undecipherable due to light distorting.
Arthur memorized the numbers, he didn't need to look at the picture again as a cop, he had plenty of experience remembering the vehicle's registration number. Although he was drunk, Arthur could sit in front of a sketch artist and accurately depict the Killer's grey eyes he had seen only for a glimpse.
That eye image could easily be then uploaded into the police server and be matched with the local database and voila Arthur would have his serial killer. But Arthur had quit his job, he will not have access to these services. And even if he could, this time he just wanted to keep things to himself.
Arthur feeds in the memorized numbers into one of the numerous websites on the internet, which give you the details of the vehicle owner when the registration numbers are fed in. But Arthur did not have the whole number so he fed all the numbers from zero to nine and took a screenshot every time a number showed the details of the owner.
He had a total of three results from the web search. The first one was Alfred Jordon, the second Ross Taylor and the third Brian key. The website had given the home addresses of all three men. "Let's check them one by one," Arthur said to himself. He wore his shoes, picked his car keys and left.
Arthur didn't lock the door as he had no stuff in the room. He got in his car, reversed it and got to look at the motel clearly for the first time. It was in a bad shape, it reminded him of those discarded cars in the airport parking lot.
It seemed as the motel existed somewhere nicer, and then someone bashed it up and threw it here. Arthur turned his car and went up the gravel road that connected to the highway. The first address was in a posh neighborhood. Arthur got conscious about his car but he kept driving.
Finding the address was easy, there were signboards on every turn and Arthur knew the town roads well through his cop job. When he reached Alfred Jordon's house, Arthur found out that the suspect was Professor Alfred Jordon, a retired college teacher. Alfred was in his sixties.
When Arthur reached his house, Professor was reading a newspaper on his lawn, while the pet dog slept under his chair. Arthur looked closely through Alfred's thick reading glasses. But he didn't have those grey eyes. Arthur decided to still keep a lookout to find if he had a partner who did the killings or maybe somebody was using his vehicle to pick the girls.
While waiting Arthur thought if he could afford such a house, it had a lawn, a backyard pool, two storeys with big windows. He could sit on the lawn with Nadia and see Daniel practising his game. Maybe they can also have a pet. A garage to keep the cars safe. "The Garage," realised Arthur. "I have to see, what's in there," he said to himself.
When Alfred when out to walk his dog, Arthur went into the house. He was in here to check the parking of the house. Through the window, he pepped in and saw Alfred's vehicle. The vehicle numbers matched with what he had searched on the website but the vehicle was not a truck but only a sedan.
Arthur left before Professor Alfred came back, Professor was not the killer but there were still two more suspects left. Arthur felt like he was back on duty. This felt more thrilling than sitting in front of a typewriter. Maybe this is what was missing from his life. The real-world thrill and danger.
The next stop was the house of Ross Taylor. The sun was almost coming down. Arthur picked up a hot dog from a street vendor while on the way to Ross. On his days back in police Arthur had learnt that it's a good strategy to chase your serial killer with some calories in, if things go sideways you don't want to die on a hungry stomach.
Ross house was in a middle-class area, it was better than the place Arthur lived in but not so much better as to make Arthur jealous. As soon as Arthur entered the lane, he knew he was in the right place. He had spotted a truck parked in the corner end.
The truck was very similar to the truck he had seen that night. But it was drenched in mud, even covering the registration plate. But it was a truck and that was better than the time he had wasted to break into the parking of a retired college teacher and then find a sedan in his garage. Whose eyes were not even grey.
When Arthur drove in front of Ross's house, he saw three boys and two girls drinking on the balcony. They all looked like high-schoolers to Arthur but one of them was built stronger than the others. And had grey eyes. Though it was difficult to make out from this distance if they were the same eyes, he had seen last night.
Arthur parked at a distance and observed. One of the girls was a little older than the boys. A college student perhaps, similar to the victims of the autopsy killer. Arthur started to think what if he is right, what if he can solve the puzzle that the police has not solved yet.
He will finish his novel on time and then tip the police about the real identity of the killer. And when he will be asked how he found the autopsy killer, he will blow the minds of the press by revealing that he found the killer while researching and working on his latest novel.
The publishers will love me for this. The novel will be a sure shot bestseller. His siesta was broken by the loud goodbyes of his friends. "Night Ross! Night Sammy!! They hugged and kissed goodbyes. The two boys and the girl got in one car. And Ross and the college girl got in another.
While the friends went away in their cars, Ross waited and kissed the girl. "That's it knows he is going to take her in another direction, kill her and dump her," said Arthur a little too excitedly. But instead, Ross took out a small box, took out his contact lens and wore his glasses. Arthur saw the eyes were not grey but brown.
Then the car left in the same direction as their friends have gone to. Arthur was angry he wasted no time and went to the parked truck. He scratched off the mud on the registration plate with his boots. The numbers were different they didn't match with Arthur's screenshot.