Chris Carter - The Crucifix Killer

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In a derelict cottage in Los Angeles National Forest, a young woman is found savagely murdered. Naked, strung from two wooden posts, the skin has been ripped from her face – while she was alive. On the nape of her neck is carved a strange double-cross: the signature of a psychopath known as the Crucifix Killer.
But that’s not possible. Because, two years ago, the Crucifix Killer was caught and executed.
Could this be the work of a copycat killer? Someone who has somehow accessed intricate details of the earlier murders – details that were never made public? Or is Homicide Detective Robert Hunter forced to face the unthinkable? Is the real Crucifix Killer still out there, ready to embark once again on a vicious killing spree, selecting his victims seemingly at random, taunting Hunter with his inability to catch him?
Robert Hunter and his rookie partner are about to enter a nightmare beyond imagining, where there's no such thing as a quick death.
To date The Crucifix Killer has been released in over fifteen countries.

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‘Anyway, as I’ve said, the bacterium multiplies fast and the more there is the more damage it causes. Our victim was injected with a phenomenal amount of it and straight into the bloodstream. Within ten to twelve hours he would’ve gone from healthy to knocking on death’s door.’

Doctor Winston approached the organ tray. ‘His liver and kidneys were thirty-five percent destroyed. There was also great deterioration of the heart, the intestines and esophagus, and that would explain the blood when he coughed, he was hemorrhaging internally very badly when we got to him at the park. It was probably his body’s last struggle before death.’

Garcia contorted his face remembering the images from the park.

‘And there’s one more thing,’ the doctor continued.

‘And what’s that?’

‘The victim’s nails on both hands are all broken, as if he’d tried to scrape his way out of somewhere. A wooden box probably.’

‘Wood splinters under the nails?’ Hunter concluded.

‘Yep. Under what’s left of them and on his fingertips.’

‘Wood analysis?’ Garcia asked excitedly.

‘Common pine wood. Very easy to come across. The killer could’ve nailed him shut inside a regular wardrobe.’

‘Why would the killer do that if he’d already injected the victim with the bacteria and death was a certainty?’ Garcia asked intrigued.

‘To speed up the process as much as possible,’ Hunter answered first.

Garcia frowned.

‘The heart speeds up when a person panics. Blood is pumped faster, so the bacteria spread faster.’

‘Correct,’ Doctor Winston said with a nod.

‘And what easier way to make someone panic than nailing him shut inside a wooden coffin.’

‘This killer knows the business of killing better than anyone I’ve ever encountered,’ the doctor said staring back at the body.

‘So if we’d gotten to the park earlier?’ Garcia asked.

‘It would’ve made no difference. Our victim’s fate was sealed the moment the killer injected him with the bacteria,’ Hunter said. ‘It was all part of his plan. Nothing was left to chance.’

‘How can someone come across this bacterium? Where could the killer have gotten it from?’

Doctor Winston and Hunter both understood where Garcia was coming from. The killer had to have had access to the bacteria from somewhere, a hospital, a laboratory perhaps. They could check visiting and employees’ records and maybe come out with a lead.

‘Our problem is that every hospital and lab in California will probably have a sample of the bacterium,’ the doctor explained. ‘As I’ve said, it reproduces itself extremely fast and the killer would’ve only needed a few drops of infected blood. No one would’ve missed it. No one would’ve reported it. Cultivating it and transforming the few drops of infected blood into the deadly amount that was injected into our victim is also very easily done. This was a very clever death. Not very difficult to achieve if you know what you’re doing, but very, very hard to trace the source.’

‘So it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack?’

Doctor Winston nodded.

‘We’ll look into it anyway,’ Hunter said. ‘At this point I’m not discarding anything.’

‘Why didn’t the killer wait for the victim to die like all the previous ones before calling in?’ Garcia asked.

‘The shocking effect,’ Hunter shot back in a calm voice. ‘A person dying of flesh-eating disease is a very disturbing and powerful image. Blisters bursting open to release pus and mucus, the victim hemorrhaging from the eyes, nose, ears, gums… the putrid smell, the certain and imminent death. This is his show. He’s showing off. And it all adds to my guilty feeling. He wanted me to see what I’d done when I picked the wrong dog.’

‘What’s this dog thing you keep on talking about?’ the doctor asked looking puzzled.

Hunter gave him a quick explanation of what had happened, how they’d come so close to saving the victim.

‘Do you think the killer would’ve really let him go if you had picked the winner?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Hunter said shaking his head. An uneasy silence followed.

‘What did he take?’ Garcia asked rubbing his chin.

‘What do you mean?’ Doctor Winston looked hesitant.

‘You said the killer always removes a body part from the victim, like a trophy.’

‘Ah yes.’ He lifted the small white sheet, revealing the victim’s groin region.

‘Oh God!’ Garcia brought both hands to his mouth. He knew that had been done while the victim was still alive.

Half a minute went by before Hunter spoke. ‘Let me guess, the forensic team found nothing inside the car, right?’

‘Ah-ha!’ the doctor replied, lifting his right index finger with an enthusiastic smile. ‘They found a hair. And it isn’t the victim’s.’

Thirty

As they approached the Vanguard Club entrance on Friday night, Garcia was surprised to see such a big crowd waiting in line to get in.

‘I can’t believe this club is full, this is supposed to be a massive club.’

‘The club ain’t full,’ Hunter replied confidently.

‘How do you know?’

‘It’s a psychology trick,’ Hunter continued. ‘If they make you wait in line it increases your expectations of the club. You’ll be more eager to get in. A busy club usually means a good club.’

‘That’s true.’

‘But the trick is to make you wait in line just long enough. Get the timing wrong and it’ll put punters in a bad mood. No one likes standing in line for too long.’

‘That’s also true.’

They ignored the line of people and walked straight up to the two muscle-bound bouncers at the club’s entrance.

‘Sorry, gentlemen, you gonna have to join the line like everyone else,’ one of the bouncers said, placing a hand on Garcia’s shoulder.

‘Oh no, you see we’ve got special VIP passes,’ Hunter said in a funny voice and producing his detective badge.

The bouncer checked Hunter’s police credentials and removed his hand from Garcia. ‘Is there some sort of a problem, Detective Hunter?’

‘No, we’re just looking for someone.’

The two bouncers exchanged a worried look. ‘We don’t want no trouble here.’

‘Neither do we, so if you get out of our way, we’ll be off to a good start,’ Hunter said, pinning the bouncer down with a firm gaze. Without losing eye contact, the bouncer took one step to his right and opened the door.

‘Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.’

The two detectives stepped into the luxurious lobby entrance. The thumping music instantly caused an impact. It was loud, very loud. There were a handful of people standing around in this first room, some dancing, some just chatting. Hunter and Garcia made their way through the small mob and into the main dance floor area.

The music in there was twice as loud as in the entrance hall and out of instinct Hunter placed a finger in each ear.

‘What’s the problem, old man, can’t handle the younger generation’s music?’ Garcia said with a cynical grin.

‘Music? This is just… loud repetitive thumping noise. Give me heavy metal any day.’

‘This place is enormous!’ Garcia said as the giant dance floor inside the 20,000-square-feet venue stood majestically in front of them. Hunter widened his eyes to try and take in the enormity of the place. The dance floor was busy with a colorful and vibrant crowd moving to the beat of the latest ‘drum ’n’ bass’ and dirty-funk sounds. The club lights and lasers cast different shapes on the crowd as they danced. The atmosphere in the Vanguard was contagious. People came in here to have fun and it showed. Hunter and Garcia weren’t in the Vanguard to appreciate it or to take part in the fun, they needed to find D-King.

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