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way they conducted themselves that Patton and Holland had been friends, not just partners, for a long time and The Chemist still couldn’t decide whether this was a good or a bad thing.
                Seeing an approaching exit and checking the time, The Chemist raised a quizzical eyebrow.
    ‘I wonder …do I have the time?’ The Chemist said out loud. ‘Of course I do’. It was probably worth checking again, regardless, given the events that were planned later on today.
                Taking a sharp right off Ventura, The Chemist gunned the Cadillac XLR towards Echo Park, where the pupils of Belmont High school would be arriving within the next thirty minutes. Yes, there was plenty of time. 
                Even though The Chemist was driving at just under the speed limit all the way, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention, at just before quarter to nine the silver Cadillac pulled up adjacent to the main entrance of Belmont High which was, as always, a hive of activity just before the nine a.m. roll call. There were plenty of cars and people milling around, and for anyone who wished to remain anonymous in a crowd this was definitely an added bonus. To the casual passer by, hell, even to any police who might just happen to drive past, The Chemist looked for all the world like a parent who might have just dropped a child off for school. Nothing at all to arouse any kind of suspicion. Just they way The Chemist liked it.
                Several people walked past the car over the next couple of minutes but not one turned to look at The Chemist inside the car. If they had, they would have assumed that the person in the car was daydreaming idly into the distance but in fact, The Chemist was keenly scanning the high school entrance. Today being a Thursday, she should be here any time now, probably with her two best friends as usual, ready to learn some more about English, then Biology, then, after a break, American History where if the teacher’s timetable was adhered to as strictly as The Chemist’s timetable usually was, she would be continuing her discovery of the American Civil War 1861-65, specifically Lincoln’s Emancipation Proclamation.
                Ah, there she was, looking as pretty as she usually did, flanked by her two best friends, who’s names The Chemist neither knew, nor cared to know. They were insignificant, unimportant; not part of The Game . Lucky for them.
                She looked so happy too, and why wouldn’t she be? Seventeen was such a fantastic age; several admirers taking turns to try and gain the affections of one of the most popular girls in their year, every Friday and Saturday night booked up, her diary full of offers from the star quarterback to the high school’s wrestling team captain. Well that would be changing in the non-too distant future. The Chemist was smiling again, as the three friends went through the school gates, up the twelve stone steps leading to the main doors and finally through the entrance, until they disappeared from view. All the time The Chemist was focussed intently on the middle girl.
                As the school doors swung shut, The Chemist started laughing again. ‘Hello again number four, look at you – the apple of your father’s eye! He should be so proud of you, and rightly so!
    ‘Or should I say, hello again, Katie Patton’.

 
    11

                As we drove to Sutherland Boulevard, the ten minutes or so it took us to get there seemed like an eternity. We took the time to review what we knew, which at this point, didn’t fill the ten minute drive.
                Keeley Porter and Jennifer Hughes were nineteen and twenty-two respectively, so the same age-range. There was no evidence of anything sexual – no traces of semen in or on the bodies, no bruising around the vagina or anus. At least that in itself could be significant, we just didn’t know yet.