Page 63 of Obsession in Death

He was smarter than he appeared, and as she skimmed his files, admitted he was organized. But he wasn’t careful, didn’t live alone or close himself off.

She found a disc labeled “Ledo,” another labeled “The Square.”

She ran Ledo’s first, waded through Mason’s stiff and formal version of a police report, then backtracked, zeroed in.

Observed deliveryman traveling west on foot, pausing outside subject’s building before continuing on. Then observed same deliveryman cross over to south side of the street, traveling on foot, east. This individual appeared unable to find the address, took out a ’link, but—in my opinion—took a photograph with said ’link.

As I am a public servant and know this area well, I approached the deliveryman, called out to same. I said: Can I help you find an address?

The individual turned away, shaking his head, and continued east with more haste.

I went back to my surveillance of the subject’s building.

“You saw him.”

Eve turned to her ’link, pulled up the contact information.

Mason’s earnest face filled her screen. “This is Mason Tobias. I can only talk for a minute because I’m working and not allowed personal communications.”

“I’ll fix it, Mason. It’s Lieutenant Dallas.”

“Yes, sir, Lieutenant. I’m on a walking delivery, so I can talk for a minute.”

“Great. Mason, I’m reading your reports, and—”

He lit up like a candle. “You are? You’re reading them yourself?”

“Yeah, and I’m reading the one you filed on December fifteenth while surveilling Ledo’s building.”

“That was before you told me not to, to observe from inside.”

“Right, before that. You report seeing a deliveryman, one who appeared unable to locate an address. Do you remember that?”

“I have a really good memory.”

“You said deliveryman. Are you certain the individual was male?”

“I... That’s inaccurate, Lieutenant. I assumed.” Distress clouded his eyes. “I didn’t accurately report.”

“It’s okay. Did you see this person’s face?”

“I saw a portion of the face. The individual was wearing brown pants, a brown coat and ski cap, wraparound sunshades, and a lighter brown scarf around the lower portion of the face. Also gloves. The individual carried a shipping box.”

Deflated, Eve nodded. “Okay, Mason, good work.”

“The individual removed the sunshades in order to—I believe—take a picture of the building across the street.”

Eve held her breath. “Describe what you saw.”

“The individual appeared to be mixed race. This I observed from the tone of the skin, which was like coffee regular. The cap was pulled to the eyebrows, but what I could see of the eyebrows were brown. Dark brown. I wasn’t close enough to see his eyes, or the color, I mean. When I approached, he put the shades back on. So I didn’t see the eyes. I’m sorry.”

“Did you get any sense of the shape of the face?”

On screen, Mason’s forehead creased in thought. “I would say on the narrow side. I would judge this person to be about five feet, ten inches in height and one hundred and fifty pounds.

“Is this a person of interest, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, I’m very interested.”

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