Chris Carter - The Crucifix Killer

‘I was really hoping for some sort of a break tonight…’ He thought better of what he’d just said. ‘OK, maybe not a break, but some kind of development,’ he said, rubbing his tired eyes.

Hunter surveyed the restaurant floor for some seating space. Luckily a party of four were just leaving, vacating a table.

‘Are you hungry? I could do with some food – let’s grab a seat.’ He pointed to the empty table and they both made their way towards it.

They checked the menu in silence, Hunter struggling to make a decision. ‘I’m actually starving. I could have half of this menu.’

‘I bet you could. I’m not that hungry, I’ll just have a Caesar salad,’ Garcia said indifferently.

‘Salad!’ Surprise in Hunter’s voice. ‘You’re like a big girl. Order some proper food, will you?’ he demanded dryly.

Reluctantly, Garcia reopened the menu. ‘OK, I’ll have a chicken Caesar salad. Is that better, Mom?’

‘And some BBQ back ribs to go with it.’

‘Are you trying to make me fat? That’s way too much food.’

‘Trying to make you fat? You are a big girl,’ Hunter said laughing.

The waitress came up to take their order. Apart from the Caesar salad and the back ribs, Hunter also ordered a California burger and some fried calamari for himself together with two bottles of beer. They sat without saying a word, Hunter’s observant eyes moving from table to table, resting on each occupant for only a few seconds. Garcia regarded his partner for a minute and then placed both of his elbows on the table leaning forward, his voice low as if whispering a secret.

‘Is there anything wrong?’

Hunter moved his stare back to Garcia. ‘No, everything is fine,’ he said calmly.

‘You’re looking around like you’ve seen something or somebody.’

‘Oh that. I do that a lot when I’m in public places, it’s like an exercise that has carried on from my criminal psychology days.’

‘Really… like what?’

‘We used to play this game. We’d go out to restaurants, bars, clubs, places like that and we’d take turns picking a subject in the crowd, watching him or her for a few minutes and trying to profile them as best as we could.’

‘What, just by watching them for a minute or so?’

‘Yeah, that’s right.’

‘Show me.’

‘What? Why?’

‘I just wanna see how it works.’

Hunter hesitated for a moment. ‘OK, pick someone.’

Garcia looked around the busy restaurant but his eyes were drawn to the bar. Two attractive women, one blond, one brunette, were having a drink together. The blond one was by far the more talkative of the two. Garcia had made his choice. ‘Right there, over at the bar. See the two girls by themselves? The blond one.’

Hunter’s gaze fell on his new subject. He observed her, her eye and body movements, her quirks, the way she spoke to her friend, the way she laughed. It took him only about a minute to start his assessment.

‘OK, she knows she’s attractive. She’s very confident and she loves the attention she gets, she works hard for it.’

Garcia lifted his right hand. ‘Wait up, how would you know that?’

‘She’s wearing very revealing clothes compared to her friend’s. So far she’s run her hand through her hair four times, the most common “notice me” gesture, and every so often she furtively checks herself against the mirror behind the bottle shelves at the bar.’

Garcia observed the blond girl for a while. ‘You’re right. She just checked herself again.’

Hunter smiled before carrying on. ‘Her parents are rich and she’s proud of that. She makes no effort to hide it from anyone and she knows how to spend their money.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘She’s drinking champagne in a bar where ninety-five percent of the customers order beer.’

‘She could be celebrating.’

‘She isn’t,’ Hunter said confidently.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because she’s drinking champagne and her friend is drinking beer. If they were celebrating her friend would be sharing the bottle with her. And there was no toast. You always toast when you celebrate.’

Garcia smiled. Hunter continued. ‘Her clothes and handbag are all designer. She’s never placed her car keys back into her handbag, preferring to leave them on the bar in plain view, and the reason for that is probably because her key ring shows some prestigious car emblem, like a BMW or something. She’s got no wedding ring and anyway she’s too young to be married or have a well-paid job, so the money has to come from somewhere else.’

‘Please go on.’ Garcia was starting to enjoy the exercise.

‘She’s got a diamond-encrusted W on her necklace. I’d say her name would be either Wendy or Whitney, those being the two favorite names beginning with W of rich parents in Los Angeles. She loves flirting, it boosts her ego even more, but she prefers more mature men.’

‘OK, now you’re pushing it?’

‘No I’m not. She only returns eye contact from more mature men, ignoring the flirtation of younger guys.’

‘That’s not true. She keeps on checking out the guy standing next to her and he looks quite young to me.’

‘She’s not looking at him. She’s looking at his cigarette pack in his shirt pocket. She probably gave up smoking not so long ago.’

Garcia had a peculiar grin on his face when he got up.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Check out how good you really are.’ Hunter looked on as Garcia started towards the bar.

‘Excuse me, you don’t happen to have an extra cigarette do you?’ he said, approaching the two women but directing his question to the blond one.

She gave him a charming and pleasant smile. ‘I’m sorry, but I quit smoking two months ago.’

‘Really? I’m trying to myself. It’s not easy,’ Garcia said, returning the smile. His eyes moved to the bar and onto her key ring. ‘You drive a Merc?’

‘Yeah, just got it a few weeks ago.’ Her excitement was almost contagious.

‘Very nice, is it a C-Class?’

‘SLK convertible,’ she replied proudly.

‘That’s a very good choice.’

‘I know. I love my car.’

‘By the way, I’m Carlos,’ he said, extending his hand.

‘I’m Wendy, and this is Barbara.’ She pointed to her brunette friend.

‘It’s been very nice meeting you both. Enjoy the rest of your evening,’ he said with a smile before returning to Hunter’s table.

‘OK, I’m even more impressed now than I was before,’ he commented as he sat down. ‘One thing is for sure. I ain’t never playing poker against you,’ he said, laughing.

While Garcia was testing Hunter’s profiling skills, the waitress had come back with their dinner. ‘Wow, I was hungrier than I thought,’ Garcia said after having finished his BBQ ribs together with the Caesar salad. Hunter was still munching on his burger. Garcia waited until he was done. ‘How come you decided to be a cop? I mean, you could’ve been a profiler, you know… gone and worked for the FBI or something like that.’

Hunter had another sip of his beer and used the napkin on his mouth. ‘And you think that working for the FBI is better than working as a Homicide detective?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ Garcia protested. ‘What I meant is that you had a choice and you picked being a Homicide detective. I know a lot of cops who’d kill for the chance to work for the feds.’

‘Would you?’

Garcia’s eyes didn’t shy away from Hunter’s. ‘Not me, I don’t really much care for the feds.’

‘And why is that?’

‘To me they’re just a whole bunch of glorified cops who think they are better than everyone else simply because they wear cheap black suits, sunglasses and earpieces.’