Chris Carter - The Executioner

Mechanically, Hunter checked the number on the back of the two photographs they found on the fireplace. His thought process went from A to Z in two seconds flat. ‘The woman was number two,’ he said to himself, but Brindle picked up on it.

‘So what’re you thinking?’

Hunter quickly shook his head, as if snapping out of a trance. ‘The killer uses the blood of the previous victim to number his next one.’

Brindle pinched his bottom lip as he thought about it.

Hunter pointed to the woman’s photograph. ‘Number two; this is the pregnant woman whose blood was used to draw the number three on the priest’s chest. I’d bet on it.’

Brindle agreed it made sense. ‘I’ll get the blood used on the back of these photos analyzed straight away,’ he said. ‘You’ll have a result soon.’

Captain Blake was already waiting in Hunter’s office for their nine o’clock meeting when he arrived. Garcia had brought her up to speed on all that’d happened last night, and before he was able to get rid of his jacket there was a knock at the door and they were joined by Hopkins.

‘Do you think this is the real deal or could this killer be messing with us?’ the captain asked calmly, staring at the pictures on the corkboard.

‘Messing with us how?’

‘Giving us two unknown people to run after. I’m sure he’s well aware it will take us time to come up with their identities. Even longer to confirm they’re really dead. By placing these two pictures on the fireplace, he’s tied our hands together. He could be trying to slow us down, throwing us into a completely bogus investigation while he’s free to find his next victim.’

Hunter shook his head. ‘This killer’s actions seem to have more purpose than that. I don’t think he’s interested in diverting us. The reason he gave us the photos of the first two victims is because he wants to make sure we know they were killed by him.’

‘Why?’ Captain Blake sounded irritated. ‘Is he saying we’re not competent enough to find that out on our own?’

‘If for some reason the numbers have washed off the victims, maybe we wouldn’t be able to find out on our own, captain,’ Hunter agreed, to the captain’s surprise. ‘Take the two last victims, for example. The only reason why we know Amanda Reilly was murdered by Father Fabian’s killer is because the killer wanted us to know. Take the numbering away, and her case would’ve been sitting on the desk of two detectives from the Sheriff’s Department in Malibu. At least until the skull found in the fire was processed and we got confirmation it belonged to Father Fabian.’

‘That’s true,’ Garcia agreed, leaning against his desk.

‘We thought Father Fabian was murdered by a ritualistic killer, remember? Everything pointed to it.’ Hunter turned to face the picture board. ‘Amanda Reilly’s murder has a completely different MO. Father Fabian was killed quickly with almost zero pain. One clean strike to the neck and he was dead instantly. Messy, I agree, but nothing indicates he was tortured. Amanda Reilly, on the other hand, was cooked alive. She suffered for hours. Half of her internal organs exploded inside her body, captain.’

Captain Blake grimaced and popped a mint in her mouth.

‘Without the numbering, not even Sherlock Holmes would’ve been able to attribute these two victims to the same killer.’ Hunter cleared his throat before continuing in a calm voice. ‘We’re dealing with a very different type of serial killer.’

‘How so?’ the captain asked.

‘Serial killers very rarely divert from an MO they’re comfortable with. When they do, it’s just a small deviation, mainly a steady progression into something crueler. This killer’s cool and organized enough to totally change his tactics from one victim to another without panicking.’

‘Aren’t serial killers usually after some sort of satisfaction?’ Hopkins asked.

‘Yes.’

‘What satisfaction is this one after?’

Hunter rubbed his face slowly, taking his time. ‘Their fears.’

‘Their fears?’ The captain echoed Hunter’s words.

‘You read Garcia’s report on what he found in Father Fabian’s journal, right?’ Hunter asked.

‘The dream thing?’

‘Yeah, the dream thing. It might seem crazy to all of us, but to the priest it was something that scared him out of his skin for over twenty years. In Amanda Reilly’s case, she was so petrified of fires she wouldn’t have a gas stove in her house.’ Hunter searched his desk for his report on their interview with Tania Riggs and handed it to Captain Blake.

‘Or candles,’ Garcia added.

‘She’s been that scared since she was a teenager.’ Hunter paused, allowing Captain Blake some time to reflect and scan the interview transcript.

‘There’s no way in hell the killer guessed that, right?’

Hunter gave her an almost imperceptible head shake.

‘So how does the killer know about their fears? Does he force them to tell him before killing them?’

‘I don’t know how yet, captain, but he knows about them beforehand,’ Hunter stated.

‘How can you be so sure?’ she challenged.

‘The amount of research and planning he puts into his kills.’ He tapped one of Father Fabian’s photos on the board. ‘To bring Father Fabian’s nightmare to life, the killer needed a sword and a dog’s head.’

‘Which he had with him,’ Garcia cut in.

‘In Malibu,’ Hunter continued, ‘the killer picked the perfect empty house where he wouldn’t be disturbed. A house with an intensity-controlled fireplace so big he could’ve cooked a hippo. This is LA, captain. Our winter sucks. Large fireplaces aren’t exactly a common residential feature in this city.’ He leaned shoulder first against the wall to the right of the photo board. ‘The killer knew them well.’

‘How well?’

‘That’s the money question. Tania Riggs told us that when the killer called to say he’d be late for his appointment with Amanda Reilly, he asked to speak to Mandy .’

The captain narrowed her eyes and searched the interview transcript in her hands. ‘That’s an affectionate nickname.’

‘Precisely,’ Hunter agreed. ‘Not your regular customer/client way of addressing each other. A slip of the tongue, maybe.’

‘Have we run the two new pictures against the Missing Persons and the California Homicide databases?’ She addressed Hopkins.

‘I started this morning. Nothing yet,’ he replied shyly, ‘but it’s still early.’

‘Dan Tyler, the owner of the Malibu house, has no idea who the two on the pictures could be. He never saw them before. I ran the pics by him.’ Hunter paused as his gaze locked onto the four faces pinned side by side on the corkboard.

Garcia recognized that look. ‘What have you got, Robert?’

Hunter lifted his hand in a ‘wait a minute’ gesture. ‘If the killer knew the victims well…’ He let his words float in the air for a moment.

‘There’s a chance they knew each other,’ Garcia deducted.

‘I think there’s a good possibility,’ Hunter confirmed.

‘But Amanda wouldn’t have known Father Fabian from the Seven Saints church,’ Garcia continued.

‘Why not?’ Captain Blake questioned.

‘Tania Riggs said Amanda wasn’t religious at all. She didn’t even believe in God. If she knew Father Fabian from somewhere, it wasn’t from his church.’

‘And that knowledge can save us some time,’ Hunter said.

‘How’s that?’

‘From what we found out so far, Father Fabian was some sort of recluse,’ Hunter clarified. ‘He lived for the church and its community, but that was all. His social life outside the Catholic Church was nonexistent.’