Someone had been watching him, probably followed him from Baltimore. Watched as he checked into his hotel, was behind him when he walked the Boardwalk and was close enough to him on the beach to see him have his picture taken by the scope girl. He wouldn’t have been the subject—no, he wasn’t that stupid, none of them were—but he’d be in the background of one of the shots Darlene took on that beach. He may not have noticed, but the man who followed him from Baltimore, the man who was waiting for just the right time and place to do his job and leave his message, he would have seen. And this man would have acted, would have made sure that this photographic evidence would disappear.
No doubt he followed Darlene back to the scope shop, then followed her home. Her apartment had a simple lock, e
