Chris Carter - I Am Death

Hunter faced the body.

‘He does it because he wants to. He’s showing us that he can be any sort of killer he wants, morph from one type to another in no time at all. Because he’s not driven by compulsion. He’s a killer by choice.’

Garcia was the one who knocked on Captain Blake’s door. She had called both detectives into her office for an unscheduled meeting, which wasn’t at all unusual. The surprising fact was finding Chief of Police James Bracco in her office, also waiting for them.

Captain Blake was standing by the bookshelf on the south wall, while Chief Bracco had taken one of the two Chesterfield armchairs that faced her desk. He was nursing a full cup of coffee, from which no steam was visible. His posture and facial expressions were tense to say the least.

As Hunter and Garcia stepped into the well airconditioned office, Chief Bracco immediately stood up and turned to face them. Instead of his usual raven-black police uniform with four silver stars on each side of his shirt collar, he wore a well-tailored suit, silvery-gray in color, with the jacket open to reveal a blue tie and a white dress shirt underneath. His horseshoe mustache matched his peppery hair.

‘Detectives,’ he said, taking one step forward and offering his hand.

No introductions were necessary. Despite taking over from the previous Chief of Police just over eight months ago, both detectives had met Chief Bracco at least a couple of times before.

They all shook hands, and then Hunter’s gaze quickly moved to his captain. Hunter could tell that some of Chief Bracco’s anxiety had rubbed off on her.

‘OK, you both know that I’m not a man to beat around the bush,’ the Chief of Police began, placing his untouched cup of coffee on the small coffee table between the two armchairs. His voice was firm but slightly hoarse, as if he was either fatigued or had just come out of a bad cold. ‘So I’m not going to waste your time or mine with bullshit conversation.’

Captain Blake returned to her desk, but instead of taking a seat she stood behind her chair, resting her forearms on the backrest.

‘Despite doing our best to keep the specifics of this investigation as airtight as possible,’ Chief Bracco continued, ‘there’s no avoiding it anymore, the case will make the news by tomorrow.’ He lifted his right index finger to stop anyone from asking any questions before he was finished. ‘Our press office is expected to issue a statement by tomorrow morning. As far as we know, the press isn’t aware of any of the grisly details, like the level of violence used or the fact that this psycho likes to call himself “Death”.’ The chief’s eyebrows arched ironically. ‘As original as that might sound. They also have no idea that this morning’s murder is directly linked to the body that was found in the early hours of yesterday by LAX, so there will be no mention of the term “serial killer”. Not by the press, not at the conference tomorrow, and not by any of us. I’m sure I don’t have to remind anyone in this room how sensationalist the LA press can be. Hell, they practically invented the term. If any of this leaks, it will start a city-wide panic that I’m sure will spiral out of control faster than a skunk’s fart. And I hate that goddamn smell.’

Chief Bracco readjusted his tie before moving on.

‘As we all know, for some reason this douchebag decided to bring Mayor Bailey into the loop with the picture and the note that was sent to him yesterday. With elections just around the corner, it’s no surprise that the mayor is now freaking the fuck out.’ He paused for a moment while his gaze moved from one detective to another. ‘Frankly, I must admit that so am I. At least a little bit. This investigation is only two days old — two days old — and we already have just as many bodies. This killer seems to be on a roll.’ He breathed out, shaking his head. ‘Though I haven’t visited the site, I saw the crime-scene photographs. Who the fuck murders someone by scraping off her face with an electric sander?’

No one said anything because they all thought it was a rhetorical question.

They were wrong.

Chief Bracco pinned Hunter down with a gaze that could’ve curdled milk.

‘I understand that you have a Ph.D. in criminal behavioral psychology, Detective Hunter.’

Hunter’s reply was a subtle nod.

‘And that there’s no one more experienced than the two of you when it comes to cases of this nature.’ His eyes moved to Garcia, then back to Hunter.

‘So please, humor me this once. What type of creep are we after here, other than one with a massive hard-on for killing people?’ He nodded at Captain Blake. ‘Barbara has already told me that, despite the star positioning of the first body, neither of you believe we’re dealing with a ritualistic killer here. So who are we after?’

Hunter studied the Chief of Police for a beat.

‘It’s too soon to tell, sir,’ he replied. ‘We are still trying to analyze the little data we have so far. As you’ve just mentioned, we’ve been on this case for less than forty-eight hours.’

‘I understand that, Detective, and as I’ve also said, in that short amount of time this psycho has already given us two bodies. I’d say that that’s plenty to analyze, wouldn’t you?’ Chief Bracco shook his head. ‘I’m not asking for an official psychological profile here, Detective. I would just like to know your personal opinion of this guy.’

Hunter stayed quiet, and once again the Chief of Police watched him, this time with an intense, searching gaze, but Hunter’s expression revealed nothing. Chief Bracco checked his watch.

‘I’m meeting the mayor and the Governor of California in just under an hour. Would any of you like to take a guess as to what the main topic of conversation will be?’

This time it was a rhetorical question.

‘So, for my own peace of mind, Detectives, so that I at least half believe the crap that I’ll be selling them in sixty minutes’ time, and subsequently to the LA press at the conference tomorrow, please give me something.’

‘All I have are hunches and suppositions, sir,’ Hunter finally said. ‘Nothing concrete.’

‘I appreciate that, Detective,’ Chief Bracco said, lifting a hand to stop Hunter before he gave him any more excuses. ‘And a hunch is all I’m asking for. All of us here know that that’s all criminal profiling is — a hunch, a best guess based on the evidence found so far, nothing more. It’s not an exact science and it never will be. So please, Detective, hit me with your best hunch. What kind of sick bastard are we after here? Is he delusional? Is he schizophrenic? Does he hear voices in his head? What?’

‘No. He’s not delusional, or schizophrenic, and I don’t believe that he hears voices in his head, sir.’

Hunter felt too tired to launch into a whole psychological explanation to back up his opinion. Instead, he moved on to the facts.

‘What we do know is that he’s methodical, patient and very disciplined. His risks are well calculated. He never rushes because he knows he doesn’t have to. He never leaves anything behind because his planning is practically flawless. He isn’t the type to panic easily if things don’t go exactly to plan because he knows that he can improvise at the drop of a dime. He’s comfortable getting into character. He’s comfortable lying, and he does it very well and without hesitation.’

‘And you’re basing all those assumptions on what, exactly?’ Chief Bracco asked, sounding intrigued as opposed to condescending.

‘Everything this killer has done so far has worked out perfectly for him, sir,’ Garcia took over. ‘No mistakes. No glitches. Not a speck of dust left behind that he didn’t want to leave behind. His timing with his victims has been impeccable. The risk of anyone running into him while he was with any of them was practically non-existent because it was calculated to the very last detail. None of it, sir, including the fact that he’s so elusive and so thorough, is down to luck.’