Oliver Stark - American Devil

The detectives who made up the elite Blue Team were all sitting around in the far corner facing Nate Williamson. He’d just received the feedback from the Fed’s violent criminal apprehension programme, ViCAP — a database of sickening crimes.

Williamson was a hard-nosed veteran of nearly twenty years. His age alone demanded respect, but he still worked out and he could floor a perp half his age. The Romario case had been his lead at the start. After four months they’d put Harper in charge. It wasn’t easy for Williamson, but he knew the younger guys were just that little bit smarter and faster. And Harper had done a good job. Williamson knew that he wouldn’t have made the links Harper had made. Not in a million years.

Harper walked into the centre of the room for the first time in a long while. ‘Nice time last night, Harper?’ asked Williamson, looking at Harper’s fists. ‘We wondered where you got to.’

Harper tried to shrug it off. ‘Got them caught in a door.’

‘Yeah,’ said Williamson, ‘we’ve just seen the door wearing a face mask.’

‘Eddie and me walked the crime scene again. I need to speak to the team, Nate.’

‘When I say so, Harper,’ said Williamson. ‘Now listen up, all of you. The street teams are still scratching around and nothing’s giving — a few witnesses with contradictory stories. There’s nothing on ViCAP. Forensics have nothing yet, but they reckon he’s been careful with his prints again. They’ll be able to confirm whether they’ve got any DNA samples in a couple of days. They found some microfibres in Amy Lloyd-Gardner’s hair and mouth and a half-print of the killer’s lips on her mouth, but nothing much to go on. He took her clothes. The autopsy will get under way soon, but the ME confirmed that Amy’s heart had been removed. Any luck on finding the silver Merc, Garcia?’

Garcia shook his head. ‘Nothing. No sighting at all. He maybe has it locked up.’

‘Unlikely,’ said Harper. ‘It’s full of evidence. Most likely scenario is he took it to a scrap yard and torched it. You should check all the yards.’

‘Will do,’ said Garcia.

Kasper nodded from the side. ‘I’ve been speaking to the FBI profile coordinator and we’ll put the package together for him if we want his help. Our own profiler is out of action.’

‘What’s wrong with him?’

‘Long term sick. He’s probably the killer.’

‘Yeah, and I bet he wouldn’t even be able to work that one out,’ said Garcia. The guys laughed.

‘Nothing else?’ asked Williamson. There was nothing from the floor. Harper filled the silence.

‘I called the Medical Examiner this morning. She found a bite mark on Amy Lloyd-Gardner’s breast. Fairly deep, too. They’ll get a pretty good imprint from it. He’s growing already. Getting more aggressive. Getting to like the thrill, but he needs to do more each time to get the same buzz. I’ll work up the details to send off to the Feds, but my hunch is that this is a serial killer and he’s just beginning to express himself.’

‘Express himself? What do you mean?’ asked Garcia.

‘I mean, some take time to dare to do all the things they dream about, but this guy is getting there real quick. It’s not a good sign. And he’s professional — ambush, cosh, drag out of sight and then strip and cut. It looks like he’s recording his crimes, too. They like to replay the memories.’

Williamson turned to Lol Edwards, a balding red-haired cop from Maine. ‘How about anything from the stores? Anyone following Amy?’

Lol shook his heavy jowls. ‘Nothing to report. Can’t get anything from the stores in Madison and Park Avenue. We got a better photograph from Amy’s husband and it’s doing the rounds with the store owners, see if we can get someone to remember something. We should know where she went and what she bought by the end of the day. Her credit card records just came through, so we’ll have pieced it all together soon.’

Williamson nodded. ‘Garcia, the rest of your report. What you got?’

Mark Garcia stood up. ‘Got some good stuff from the eyewitnesses. Seems like there was a guy in a silver SUV next to a woman. We’ve got three separate sightings of a Caucasian male in a green uniform with grey hair. One saw him when he was in the car, two saw him sweeping the garage. He was wearing these orange shades that some of the gangbangers wear, so they can’t do much with his face. But we got this drawing finished. It’s only his lips, jaw and nose, but it’s pretty good as a likeness — it’s a mix of the three separate sightings. They all saw this guy in the underground lot.’

Garcia moved over to the board and tacked the drawing up. The team looked at it. The face was regular and symmetrical, but the eyes were hidden. ‘What doesn’t he want us or them to see?’ said Harper. ‘I think he’s hiding something that might identify him.’

‘What like?’ said Williamson.

‘Different coloured eyes, something like that. Something he wants hidden because if it went out on a profile, he’d be recognized.’

‘That’s not a bad piece of deduction, Harper, but he might just be trying to hide his identity like any criminal would. So let’s not go chasing guys with eye problems until we got some evidence.’

‘Oh, and they said he smiled,’ said Garcia.

‘When?’ asked Harper.

‘In the car. He gave this woman a smile and a wave.’ Garcia looked to his notes. ‘A big smile, she said. She also said the lady in the car was naked. Maybe they were having sex.’

‘How were they having sex?’ asked Harper.

‘It’s easy to do, Tom. We’ve got books and everything if you need them,’ said Eddie.

Garcia half smiled. ‘Maybe they weren’t, but what do you think they’re doing if she’s naked?’

Rick Swanson, all five foot and 180 pounds of him, sniffed. ‘So, there’s this couple in a silver SUV and they’re naked.’

Garcia interrupted. ‘She was, he wasn’t. He had a green uniform on.’

‘Okay, good,’ said Swanson. ‘So she’s naked. They make out and have a row. He pushes her out of the car, she runs for it. He is in a rage about something, gets out and pulls out her heart.’

‘You’re a real nice storyteller, Swanson,’ said Eddie.

‘Fuck my style, is that what we’re saying happened?’

Harper tapped the desk. ‘No. They weren’t making out. He was forcing her and threatening her life. This isn’t a trick or affair gone wrong, this is a whole life gone wrong.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Look, the statement says that he was in the passenger seat. It was her car. He’s got in beside her, threatened her and then hit her and dragged her across to the arch.’

Williamson stood. ‘No use all this speculating like we’re all still in the academy. We need more street work. Okay, guys, let’s keep up the hunt. This is a nasty piece of work. Let’s get out there.’

Harper stood. ‘One more thing — I think the killer is stalking the victims. I think he knows them inside out and exactly where they go.’ Harper took a foam cup and poured strong coffee from the pot.

‘How so?’

‘I took a look at Mary-Jane’s diary. She mentions someone following her on two occasions.’

‘Could be anyone,’ said Williamson.

‘Get this, too. On October 4 a guy stopped her in the street and told her she’s got lovely eyes. I called her parents: she didn’t say anything to them.’

‘I didn’t know that.’

‘That’s over a month ago. Could be this killer knows his victims very well. That’s why he’s so confident. He knows them and their movements intimately. You went to see Amy’s husband. I bet he wasn’t missing her at all, was he?’

Williamson looked up. ‘No. He was out with his buddies.’