"I'll take a look," Sierra said.
They were already in the deep countryside, with London's tall buildings just a distant memory. Now, they were surrounded by hills and patchwork fields, which at this stage of late summer were either deep green or gold. The sky was an azure blue with barely a cloud.
"I have found a link," Sierra said. "He used to be an art teacher before he got fired for aggressive behavior toward students and teachers. At any rate, this is what this news site says."
"I think that behavior sounds on the money, given his personality," Juliette said.
The map was taking them to the small village of Winthrop, which was west of Basingstoke. Here, in this village, she hoped they would find this obsessive killer. But of course, he could still be in London, making his nefarious plans. She knew this might end up being a hunt for a needle in a haystack.
Juliette drove through the village, past the scenic houses with their thatched roofs, and past the village green and duck pond, and pulled up outside the small house on the westerly side of Winthrop.
The front door was firmly closed and so were the curtains. She felt uneasy as she looked at it because it appeared that Matt Doone was not home.
But they had to be sure. They had to search for any clues that could help them catch him.
Juliette turned to her team. "Alright, let's do this. Wyatt, you come with me. Sierra, keep an eye out and alert us if you see anything suspicious."
She marched up to the front door and knocked briskly.
No answer.
Juliette knocked again, but she was beginning to think that her first instinct was right. Doone was out. Where exactly he was, and what he was doing, was the worrying part about that.
Sighing, Juliette called Ebury. Technology, in the form of GPS tracking, was going to be her next step.
"Juliette?" Ebury picked up almost immediately, speaking calmly, but with an edge of tension to his voice that she heard instantly. Her boss was taking strain on this, and she could imagine what he'd had to deal with in the past few hours as this exploded.
"We're onto a suspect," she said. "Can you organize GPS tracking?"
"I should be able to. Give me the number," he said.
Juliette read it out. She was feeling hopeful as she waited for his reply.
She was ready to jump into the car and set off in whatever direction this took her. But when Ebury's voice came back, flat with disappointment, Juliette realized she would be going nowhere.
"The phone is turned off," Ebury said. "Tech department is unable to locate a signal for it at all."
Juliette felt her heart thump down in disappointment.
"Do you have another number?" she asked Sierra. "Any other number that came up as being linked to his name?"
Sierra shook her head helplessly. "I wish there was, but it was just that one. Only one number and only one address," she confirmed.
Juliette let out a deep, frustrated breath.
"Don't worry," she then reassured Ebury. "We'll find another way."
After all, this was the countryside, she told herself firmly. This was a small village, and in a small village, the chances were that someone knew his business. They needed to be determined and persistent and to push for answers about where this man might be. Lives could depend on it.
"I think we try the neighbors," she said. "Neighbors might know where he is, or something about his habits."
"I'll go and try across the road," Wyatt said. "You do this side? Sierra, want to come with me?"
They headed across the road, and Juliette turned away from the neat house and walked down the quiet village road to its neighbor.
The next house was a quaint, picturesque cottage with a Tudor-style, wooden frontage, a green door, and a garden full of blooming flowers.Juliette knocked on the door, crossing her fingers that there would be information from this encounter.
A middle-aged woman with a headscarf over her head and an apron around her plump waist answered within a minute, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of a detective at her doorstep. The scent of baking bread wafted out to meet her.
