Chris Carter - Gallery of the Dead

‘And I know I can’t speak for you folks at the FBI’s NCAVC.’ Garcia finished Hunter’s thought. ‘After all, we’re just PD detectives here, but just by looking at all this, I can tell you one thing — this guy’s like no other killer we’ve ever encountered before.’

In one fast movement, Officer Palmer pushed the second basement door open and immediately rotated his body into the room, both hands firmly gripping the handle of his gun, his heart double-timing every beat, his eyes wide open — twenty percent scared, eighty percent searching the room like a hawk.

Bishop took a deep breath, swallowed dry and followed directly behind her partner.

It took both trained police officers just a fraction of a second to find their target — a man standing across the room from them.

The man, who was tall and slim, was no doubt caught by surprise. The fright made him jump back awkwardly.

A whole new slow second went by before Officers Palmer and Bishop realized that the man had something in his hands, but his arms were low, denying both officers a clear view of what it was.

Police training kicked in as it should.

‘Drop it,’ Palmer called out in a loud, nervous voice, his weapon now aimed at the man’s chest.

The man hesitated.

‘I said drop it,’ Palmer shouted one more time, hoping his voice sounded a little steadier than it had just a second ago.

The man’s gaze quickly bounced from one police officer to the other.

‘Drop it,’ Palmer ordered one last time. ‘Or I swear we’ll drop you.’

Outgunned and outnumbered, the man finally complied, letting whatever he had in his hands fall to the ground. Both officers heard something heavy hit the floor with a loud clunk, but their view was obstructed by a metal-framed hospital-style bed.

‘Hands where I can see them,’ Palmer instructed the man, who hesitated again before taking a step back.

‘Easy there, partner,’ the man said in return, clearly trying to buy himself some time.

Palmer’s finger tightened on his trigger. ‘Hands where I can see them... now.’

The man planted his left foot next to his right one, being sure to keep them shoulder-width apart.

‘Let me see your hands.’ Palmer’s voice was still a little shaky. ‘Now.’

Despite all his training, curiosity got the better of Palmer and for a fraction of a second, the officer’s eyes wandered down toward the bed.

The man noticed Palmer’s eye movement.

It took Palmer another second to understand what he was looking at and as he did, adrenaline exploded into his veins, making his whole body tense up.

Officer Bishop, who was a step behind Palmer and a little to his right, also finally registered the entire scene.

Her heart took a break from beating.

‘Jesus Christ!’

At the end of their meeting, it was decided that instead of cramming everyone into a cell-sized sweatbox at the Police Administration Building (Hunter and Garcia’s office), it would be better for everyone to coordinate their joint investigation from the Los Angeles FBI Headquarters in Westwood. The original suggestion had been to move the whole operation to Quantico and into the offices of the NCAVC, but Captain Blake put a swift end to that conversation. Unless absolutely necessary, she needed her detectives to stay in Los Angeles.

‘Jesus!’ Garcia said, sitting back on his chair and rubbing his tired eyes with his thumb and forefinger. ‘The sheer number of documents in these files is mind-boggling. How can they accumulate so much in only two months?’

‘Well,’ Hunter said, without diverting his attention from his computer screen. He had already told Garcia about the private conversation he’d had with Kennedy during his cigarette break. ‘Adrian has had an army of agents working the case from the get-go.’

‘Yeah, well that certainly shows,’ Garcia came back. ‘I’ve been reading solidly for the past three hours. My eyes are about to melt in their sockets here and I’ve barely made a dent in either of their two murder investigations.’

Hunter was beginning to feel just as frustrated. In accordance with their payback theory, the NCAVC had compiled a list of all the investigations Adrian Kennedy had personally been a part of in the past twenty-five years — four hundred and forty-four cases. From that list they’d conducted a staggering number of ‘whereabouts’ checks, interviews and surveillance operations. If Hunter and Garcia were to read every record... every transcript word for word, it would take the two of them a month just to get through the interviews, never mind the remaining documents.

‘This payback theory of theirs,’ Garcia said, opening two documents on his screen at the same time. ‘They just didn’t want to give up on it, did they?’

‘Apparently not,’ Hunter said.

‘Completely understandable at first,’ Garcia agreed. ‘After all, someone had murdered the niece of an FBI director, so payback would be the first theory on any investigator’s mind, but check this out.’ He repositioned himself on his chair. ‘Just a little over a month later, as we both well know, they were presented with their second victim — Albert Greene. Same MO. Same signature, but a new message, which we all know isn’t that unusual for a serial murderer. After the FBI turned up in Wichita and scrutinized the whole scene for a full day, there was superficial talk about this being the work of a serial killer. Superficial .’ He looked at Hunter sideways. ‘What they concentrated most of their efforts on was expanding the payback theory so Albert Greene would fit into it.’

Hunter nodded. ‘From payback murder to payback rampage.’

‘Exactly,’ Garcia confirmed. ‘A killer trying to punish not only Director Kennedy, but everyone who worked on a specific investigation. Everyone who the killer considered responsible for either sending someone to prison, or to his/her death.’

‘Which to be fair, Carlos,’ Hunter came back, ‘was still a very plausible theory. The NCAVC helps countless law-enforcement agencies all over the country every year. Not to mention the cases that they take on by themselves. In any one of their investigations, a number of special agents, detectives, officers and people from the District Attorney’s office will get involved.’ Hunter got up and walked over to the coffee machine. ‘Revenge, as we both know, is a very powerful motivator. If in his mind the killer really held Adrian responsible for the outcome of an investigation, it stands to reason that he would also hold everyone else linked to that investigation responsible — or at least the main players.’ He poured himself a fresh cup. ‘Coffee?’ he offered.

‘No, I’m OK, thank you,’ Garcia replied. ‘I’m definitely not arguing that point, Robert. Yes, payback rampage was still a very plausible theory, but they plowed through Albert Greene’s family tree to see if he was directly related to anyone in law enforcement, or even to someone in a District Attorney’s office, and they got nothing. No matter which way they looked at this, they just couldn’t slot Albert Greene into their theory. So one would’ve thought that they would finally push that theory to the sidelines and start considering other possibilities.’

Hunter had a sip of his coffee before going back to his desk. ‘But that’s what they did.’

Garcia chuckled. ‘Yeah, they came up with a spinoff of the payback theory. The possibility that Mr. Greene’s murder could’ve been a “throw-off” — something to get the NCAVC off the path they were pursuing. In short, they began investigating the chances of this killer going after a complete stranger, in this case, Albert Greene, using the same MO and signature used to kill Kristine Rivers, just so it would look like her murder had been the work of a serial killer.’ With wide-open eyes, Garcia held Hunter’s stare.