Chris Carter: An Evil Mind

‘Interesting case,’ Hunter said, handing the pictures back to Taylor. ‘But the FBI and the NCAVC have investigated a ton of similar cases. . some even more disturbing. This isn’t exactly something new.’

Neither Kennedy nor Taylor disputed that.

‘I take it that you don’t have an identity on either of the two victims,’ Hunter said.

‘That’s correct,’ Kennedy replied.

‘And you said that their heads were found in Wyoming?’

‘That’s also correct.’

‘You can probably guess what my next question is going to be, right?’ Hunter asked.

A second of hesitation.

‘If we don’t know who the victims are,’ Taylor said, nodding at him. ‘And their heads were found in Wyoming, what are we doing in Los Angeles?’

‘And why am I here?’ Hunter added, quickly checking his watch. ‘I have a plane to catch in a few hours, and I still need to pack.’

‘We’re here, and you’re here, because the federal government of the United States needs your help,’ Taylor replied.

‘Oh please,’ Captain Blake said, with a smirk on her lips. ‘Are you going to give us the patriotic bullshit speech now? Are you for real?’ She stood up. ‘My detectives put their lives on the line for the city of Los Angeles, and consequently for this country, day in, day out. So do yourself a favor and don’t even go there, sweetheart.’ She pinned Taylor down with a stare that could melt metal. ‘Does that bullshit actually work on people?’

Taylor looked like she was about to reply, but Hunter cut in just a second before.

‘Need me? Why?’ He addressed Kennedy. ‘I’m not an FBI agent, and you guys have more investigators than you can count, not to mention a squad of criminal profilers.’

‘None of them as good as you,’ Kennedy said.

‘Flattery will get you nowhere in here,’ Captain Blake said.

‘I’m not a profiler, Adrian,’ Hunter said. ‘You know that.’

‘That’s not really why we need you, Robert,’ Kennedy replied; he paused a moment, and nodded at Taylor. ‘Tell him.’

The tone Kennedy used caused Hunter’s right eyebrow to twitch up just a fraction. He turned, faced Agent Taylor, and waited.

Taylor used the tip of her fingers to tuck her loose hair behind her ears before beginning.

‘The Ford Taurus belonged to one of the customers who was having breakfast in the diner that morning. According to his driver’s license, his name is Liam Shaw, born February 13, 1968, in Madison, Tennessee.’ Taylor paused and observed Hunter for a second, trying to pick up any signs that he’d recognized the name. There were none.

‘According to his driver’s license?’ Hunter questioned, his gaze ping-ponging between Taylor and Kennedy. ‘So you have doubts.’ He stated rather than asked.

‘The name checks out,’ Kennedy said. ‘Everything looks above board.’

‘But you still have doubts.’ Hunter pushed.

‘The problem is. .’ Taylor this time. ‘Everything looks above board if we go back a maximum of fourteen years. Beyond that. .’ She faintly shook her head. ‘We could find absolutely nothing on a Liam Shaw, born February 13, 1968, in Madison, Tennessee. It’s like he never existed before then.’

‘And judging by the way you were observing me when you mentioned his name,’ Hunter said, ‘you were looking for signs of recognition. Why?’

Taylor looked impressed. She’d always been very proud of her poker face, the way she could study people without them noticing it, but Hunter had read her like a book.

Kennedy smiled. ‘I told you he’s good.’

Taylor seemed to take no notice of the comment.

‘Mr Shaw was arrested on the spot by Sheriff Walton and his deputy,’ she said. ‘But Sheriff Walton also quickly realized that he had stumbled upon something that he and his small department simply wouldn’t be able to handle. The Taurus’ license plates were from Montana, which created a cross-state reference. With that, the Wyoming sheriff department had no option but to bring us in.’

She paused and shuffled through the contents of her briefcase for a new document.

‘Now, here is the second twist to this story,’ she said, moving on. ‘The Taurus isn’t registered under Mr Shaw’s name. It’s registered under a Mr John Williams of New York City.’

She handed the document to Hunter.

Hunter barely glanced at the sheet of paper he’d been given.

‘Surprise, surprise,’ Kennedy said. ‘There was no John Williams at the address the car was registered to.’

‘John Williams is quite a common name,’ Hunter said.

‘Too common,’ Taylor agreed. ‘About fifteen hundred in New York City alone.’

‘But you have Mr Shaw in custody, right?’ Hunter asked.

‘That’s correct,’ Taylor confirmed.

Hunter looked at Captain Blake, still a little confused. ‘So, you’ve got Mr Shaw, who is apparently from Tennessee, two unidentified female heads, a vehicle with Montana license plates, which is registered to a Mr Williams from New York City.’ He shrugged at the room. ‘My original question still stands — why are you in LA? And why am I here and not at home packing?’ He checked his watch one more time.

‘Because Mr Shaw isn’t talking,’ Taylor replied, her voice still calm.

Hunter stared hard at her for a couple of seconds.

‘And how does that answer my question?’

‘Agent Taylor’s statement isn’t one hundred percent accurate,’ Kennedy cut in. ‘We’ve had Mr Shaw in our custody for four days. He was transferred to us a day after he was arrested. He’s being held in Quantico. I assigned Agent Taylor and Agent Newman to the case.’

Hunter’s eyes moved to Taylor for just a second.

‘But as Agent Taylor said. .’ Kennedy moved on. ‘. . Mr Shaw has been refusing to speak.’

‘So?’ Captain Blake interrupted, a little amused. ‘Since when has that stopped the FBI from still extracting information from anyone?’

Kennedy was unfazed by the spiked remark.

‘During last night’s interrogation session,’ he continued, ‘Mr Shaw finally spoke for the first time.’ He paused and walked over to the large window on the east wall. ‘He said only seven words.’

Hunter waited.

‘He said, “ I will only speak to Robert Hunter .”’

Hunter didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch. His facial expression remained unchanged. If Kennedy’s words had affected him in any way, he showed no signs of it.

‘I’m sure I’m not the only Robert Hunter in America,’ he finally said.

‘I’m sure you aren’t,’ Kennedy agreed. ‘But we’re also sure that Mr Shaw was talking about you, not someone else.’

‘How come you’re so sure?’

‘Because of his tone of voice,’ Kennedy replied. ‘And his posture, his confidence, his attitude. . everything about him, really. We’ve analyzed the footage countless times. You know what we do, Robert. You know that I have people who are trained to read the faintest of telltale signs, to recognize the slightest change of voice intonation, to identify body-language signals. This guy was confident. No hesitation. No trepidation. Nothing. He was certain that we would know who he was referring to.’

‘You can watch the recording if you like,’ Taylor offered. ‘I’ve got a copy right here.’ She gestured toward her briefcase.

Hunter remained silent.

‘That’s why we thought that maybe you might recognize the name,’ Kennedy said. ‘But then again, we had our suspicions that Liam Shaw was just a bogus name anyway.’

‘Have you tried Tennessee, where this Mr Liam Shaw is supposedly from?’ Captain Blake asked. ‘There might be a Robert Hunter somewhere over there.’