Marcia Clark - The Competition

“Which is why they can be very glib,” Michael said. “They have no regard for rules or for the truth. Evan had that juvenile arrest for car burglary?” I nodded. “I’d bet he was the ringleader. And I’m sure there were other such instances for which he never got caught. I’d also imagine Evan committed noncriminal acts as a child that showed a cruel, sadistic side, but weren’t big enough to force the parents to put two and two together.”

“How on earth could a parent see any kind of sadistic behavior and not know that there’s something seriously wrong?” I asked.

“A combination of denial-we don’t see what we don’t want to see-and a failure to grasp the significance of what they’re seeing,” Jenny said. “It’s not uncommon for parents to view each incident as an isolated event and explain each one away, rather than see the whole picture. And if the behavior surfaces during adolescence, well…even the most normal teenagers can be unlovely.” Jenny gave a brief smile.

Memories of our interviews with Evan flashed through my mind. “I just can’t believe Evan gamed us so well,” I said.

Jenny nodded. “I understand. It is upsetting. But remember, your contacts with him were relatively limited. And even trained professionals have been deceived by psychopaths. They can be excellent actors. After all, they’ve been studying normal behavior practically since birth.”

“Where does it come from?” I asked. “Psychopaths are born, not made, right?”

Jenny nodded. “Biology plays a part, of course. There are studies of monozygotic twins that show psychopathology has a genetic component.”

“But environment, upbringing, they matter too,” Michael said. “Though, as this case has shown you, socioeconomic factors really don’t matter. You can find psychopaths in Beverly Hills or on skid row.”

“And to complicate matters further,” Jenny said, “this pathology is not a black-and-white issue. On one end of the spectrum you have narcissists, who are most certainly empathy-challenged and self-absorbed, but not usually physically dangerous. And on the other end of the spectrum, you have the most severe psychopaths-who are extremely dangerous in every way.”

“Like Evan,” Bailey said.

“Yes,” Michael said. “And you have everything in between those two extremes.”

“But studies do show that psychopathology is on the rise,” Jenny said. “I’m not sure whether that’s because we’re better at spotting the disorder or the incidence has truly increased.”

“If it really has increased, wouldn’t that explain why there seem to be more of these mass shootings?” I asked.

“It might,” Jenny said. “But remember, not all of these shooters are psychopaths. Logan is a prime example. His pathology might never have resulted in harm to another person had he not met up with Evan.”

“You mentioned these killers live through their writings,” I said. “Then why did Evan give his writings to Amanda?”

“For posterity,” Jenny said. “Remember, he doesn’t have any illusions about his longevity on this planet, and in addition to satisfying his homicidal desires, he wants recognition, fame. By secreting those notebooks with Amanda, he was ensuring that they would survive him. He plans to die in a spectacular way, and once he does-”

“Amanda would bring out the notebooks, and everyone and his brother would want to see them,” I said. It was disgusting, but true. “You also said they love to write about their killing plans, but there aren’t any in these journals. Is it possible he did write out his plans but didn’t want to risk leaving them with Amanda?”

Michael sat forward. “Yes, that’s what we believe. He took a big risk even leaving those journals with her.”

Jenny nodded. “We think he’s keeping his plans close at hand, wherever he is.”

“Now if we just knew where that was,” Bailey said. “The problem is, he could be anywhere. Sleeping in his car, camping out under a bridge-”

“Even staying in a motel if he has a fake ID,” I said.

“But now that we put his picture out there, he’s going to have a much harder time with that option,” Bailey said.

“You have an alert out for his car?” Jenny asked.

“Of course,” I said. “And we still have one out for Logan’s car too.”

“Those cars have got to be where they stashed their weapons,” Bailey said. “If they’d been anyplace else, we’d have found them by now.”

I nodded and took a sip of coffee, though my stomach surely didn’t need the acid. “Do you think Evan will write me another letter?”

“No,” Michael said. “Tweaking you was fun. And it was a release in a sense. He could sublimate his need for recognition by savoring his access to a famous prosecutor. But now he is known. He doesn’t need that release.”

“Do you have any new ideas about what his next target might be?” I asked.

“I’d say keep looking at the big venues-but ones he’d be very familiar with,” Jenny said. “At this point he knows that his next target will likely be his last. So what he wants now is a sure thing. A place where he feels most in control.”

“And I think that means somewhere in the San Fernando Valley,” Michael said. “He can’t risk traveling, and he was here for the Cinemark shooting. So I’d guess he’s still local.”

Jenny sighed. “I know that’s still a huge amount of territory to cover-”

“It is,” Bailey said. “But we’re trying.”

We wrapped up our meeting, and as we walked to the parking lot, it started to pour. Naturally, I’d left my umbrella at the station, so by the time I got to the car, I was soaking wet. Bailey handed me some paper towels she kept in the middle console.

I wiped my face and neck, then rubbed my hair dry. “The thing is, he could’ve been preparing for his next target for the last six months-or even a year. I’ve been thinking he’d need to score another AK or AR. But he doesn’t necessarily have to use guns-”

“No. Matter of fact, I’d be surprised if he hadn’t set himself up with Molotovs, pipe bombs, the kind of thing he can build himself. And you’re right, he’s had plenty of time.”

“He’d need a place to store it all.”

“Yeah. But a car would do.” Bailey pulled out of the parking lot.

I stared out the window. “Jenny’s right. He’s not far.”

“I agree.”

Which only made the question of Evan’s whereabouts more aggravating. Worse still was the possibility that we wouldn’t have the answer until it was too late.

When we gotback to the station, we checked in with Graden to find out if there’d been any tips worth hearing about.

“Evan’s been sighted everywhere from Eureka to Tijuana, and they’re not even a quarter of the way through them all. We’re running down every one that’s even marginally close, but none of them look good so far.”

I looked at the television in Graden’s office that was perpetually tuned to the local news. “I have to believe he’ll try to disguise himself.”

Bailey nodded. “Yeah, a wig-or even just a hat and a pair of shades would probably be enough to do the trick.”

“But at least now people will be looking,” I said. “And we’re going to show Jax our photo of Evan and see if he can make some kind of ID.”

Graden looked hopeful. “He saw Evan close-up?”

“Yeah, but I’m not all that confident. He said the guy was wearing a baseball cap and shades. All he could give us was a general height and weight-”

Bailey moved toward the door. “Which fits Evan and about ten million other guys.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Graden said. “We know we’ve got the right guy. Evidence will pile up fast when we catch him. And you’ve got a nice start with those letters he had Amanda send you.”