Bo Mars stayed in his small apartment in Charlestown, sheltering in place. He wanted to stay under the radar for a few days, so he bought several cans of chicken soup, a loaf of bread, and a six-pack of Diet Coke. He watched TV, enjoyed his soup, and got some much-needed rest. He was surprised when he saw news about his shootings being broadcast on Channel Four and Seven. He had become famous even though no one knew his name. He liked that, but it also made him nervous because he realized that sooner or later, they would catch him.
In the past, on days like this, Spark and he would play catch in the house or go for a walk. He was bored now, and he wished he had another dog, though who could replace Spark? After the first day, he decided he needed to get out of the apartment. He walked toward the waterfront and found a small breakfast café where he ordered eggs, toast, potatoes, and bacon. The coffee was strong and hot, and for the moment, he felt satisfied. Luckily for him, the police had no description of him, and all the news stories mentioned a solo man with no other details.
He was unaware that Hans Luden had assembled the case and identified Bo Mars as the shooter. Was the professor certain that Mars had committed the murders? No, but he was 90% sure he had the right man. The problem was that Luden or anyone else didn't know where Bo Mars was. Boston was a large city, and someone like Mars left only a faint trail to follow. He was a loner with no friends or family, making it even more difficult to locate him. He had money from somewhere; he could stay hidden for long periods. Luden figured his needs were simple, and he wouldn't be easy to locate.
The Boston waterfront was enveloped in thick white fog. It was a perfect day for the most wanted man in Boston to go for a walk. Bo Mars couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead. He had ideal cover for a morning stroll. He watched as some men unloaded fish and stopped for coffee at his favorite local café.
Two days ago, he went to Macy’s and bought new clothes. His pin-striped shirt and tan pants made him look like one of the many college students walking through the city. He wore new sneakers and a Boston Red Sox hat. Did he seem like a serial killer? He didn’t think so, nor did the people he passed, since no one paid him any attention. He shaved, cut his hair, and tried to fix his usual slumped posture.
Bo enjoyed watching the police on TV talking about him. Did he feel a sense of power from a frightened city? He thought his question was silly: he had intimidated an entire community. What was more powerful than that?
The problem was that now that he had tasted power, fame, and notoriety, he craved more. He was addicted to attention and enjoyed the thrill of committing a crime that was impossible to solve.
Hans Luden had other ideas. He thought the shooter would come back and try to commit another crime. The challenge was figuring out where and when. But how? The city couldn’t send ten thousand police officers to cover every block in the area.
Luden’s supercomputer at his MIT lab was analyzing CCTV footage from throughout the city. It hadn’t found any matches yet, but Luden was patient and knew it was only a matter of time before Bo Mars’s image caused his machine to stop.