I considered conveying our tip on the incident directly to Brennan as I still had his cell number but I wasn't rehearsed for a lengthy conversation with him. Instead, I called the number advertised on the television announcement.
Our last session on the day ended on a sad note that was very distressing to Howie. A missing girl fell through the ice and drowned while Howie helplessly watched. She was several miles from where she was supposed to be, off to meet a boy. Therefore, the search for her was miss-directed.
It would be a difficult tip to convey. We considered letting nature take its course but we felt guilty in prolonging the family's agony. Martha made the call, saying she thought she saw a girl taking a short cut across the pond. She was still in tears when she returned.
Howie wouldn't discuss the matter but we could only guess how he felt. We knew similar situations would arise when missing children would be found dead, or actually murdered. We'd coaxed Howie to look away from eminent mayhem, simply to preserve his own sanity. Easy for us to say; we wouldn't be the ones to endure it. He anguished over the possibility, fearful he would be so horror-stricken he'd wake and miss the telling information that would lead to a capture.
Monday morning was particularly difficult. It was nearing Christmas and while New York was aglow, my wife and I were just the opposite; out of sync with the mood of the city. I trudged through a boring day, knowing I'd return to an empty apartment as Betsy was off to Los Angeles for the entire week. My mind remained locked on our weekend activities, labeling all other daily happenings insignificant.
I waited until evening to make my momentous call to Agent Brennan. I wanted to be sure he was at home and hopefully alone. While I used another disposable cell phone, I didn't want to telephone from a public location. I considered taking the chance of phoning from the comfort of my apartment but realized the foolishness of taking such a chance. Instead, I splurged and rode the PATH train across the river to New Jersey and rented a cheap hotel room near my stop. Daniel Brennan answered on the first ring.
"God, I'm glad you called."
"Are you taping this?" I asked.
"I thought about it, not to chase you down, but so I wouldn't forget anything you might say. I didn't want to get it wrong. Then I figured it might freak you so no recording."
"That's good."
"I've got to ask a question; are we from the same planet? If what I'm seeing isn't some kind of joke, I'm at the end of the yellow brick road."