Chris Carter - Gallery of the Dead

The cynical smile was back on the man’s lips.

‘You know what?’ Agent Fisher calmly said, getting to her feet.

Trick number three.

‘I’m actually done with this. I’m tired. I traveled a hell of a long way to get here and you definitely weren’t worth it. Good luck on death row.’ She turned her back on the man.

Click, clack, click, clack.

‘So... Special Agent Fisher,’ the man called out, halting the agent as she got to the door.

She didn’t turn to face him.

‘How many bodies have you found so far?’ The man’s voice was as powerful as his frame and as calm as Agent Fisher’s.

She took a deep breath to suppress the smile that shadowed her lips before turning and allowing her gaze to settle on the man’s face once again.

‘How many?’ he insisted.

She walked back to the table and retook her seat. It was her turn to stay quiet.

‘Three...?’

Agent Fisher studied him, trying to read his dark eyes.

‘Four...?’ He tilted his head to one side ever so slightly.

Agent Fisher breathed out, sat back on her chair and recrossed her legs.

The man gave her another simple and subtle nod.

Agent Fisher had finally got what she wanted.

‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Are there more?’

The man’s right eyebrow arched. ‘There might be, but how about we go slowly, huh?’

The man practically admitting to more than four victims sent a chill down Agent Fisher’s spine. We have him, she thought.

‘Let’s try to establish some key points here, shall we?’ the man continued. ‘Tell me, Special Agent Fisher, who was the first victim you found?’

She regarded the man with a hawk’s stare. ‘How about you tell me? Who was your first victim?’

The man ran his tongue over his top lip. ‘I like you, Special Agent Fisher. You’re not as dumb as you look.’

Agent Fisher blinked. ‘As opposed to you, who so far has proven to be even dumber than you look.’

The man threw his head back and let go of a nervous laugh. ‘Flattery will get you everywhere; isn’t that how the saying goes?’

No reply from Agent Fisher.

‘OK, let’s forget about names for the time being; what do you say? Let’s talk timeframes, how about that? Would that be better?’ The man scooted forward on his chair and placed his elbows on the table. ‘Tell me, Special Agent Fisher, when did the Bureau start this investigation? How long ago since you found the first body? Three weeks...? Four, maybe...?’

Agent Fisher kept as still as a statue.

The man shrugged. ‘Maybe you don’t know this, but things have been happening for a lot longer than that.’

‘Really?’ she challenged, still in a serene tone. ‘Like what, for example? About two months, give or take?’ As Agent Fisher mentioned the timeframe she noticed a thoughtful sparkle in the man’s demeanor.

‘Give or take,’ he said, as if admitting to something, but the way in which he phrased his reply gave Agent Fisher the impression that the FBI wasn’t quite on the right track yet. She had to push for an answer.

‘Longer?’

The man stayed silent.

Agent Fisher felt fear shake her core, because if The Surgeon had been killing for longer than two months, it meant that there was at least another victim. Someone prior to Kristine Rivers. Someone they hadn’t found yet.

‘How many victims?’ she asked again.

The man said nothing.

‘How many have you killed so far?’

All of a sudden the door to the interrogation room swung open and Agent Williams stepped inside. ‘Agent Fisher, could I have a word, please?’

Agent Fisher turned to face her partner, finding the intrusion strange and completely unwelcome.

Agent Williams and Agent Fisher had worked together in countless investigations. As a team they had interrogated numerous suspects. Their act — good cop/bad cop — was one of the best in the Bureau, but she hadn’t used any of her trigger words to signal Agent Williams in the observation room that it was time for “bad cop” to join the party.

She looked back at him grimly.

‘Now, Agent Fisher.’

Agent Fisher frowned.

Something was definitely wrong.

Fifteen minutes earlier

As soon as Agent Fisher left the observation room, Agent Williams moved a step closer to Hunter and Garcia.

‘I’d like to apologize for Agent Fisher’s behavior.’ He sounded sincere. ‘As I told Captain Suarez, it’s been a very long and surprising day for all of us and it all seems to have gotten the best of her, at least for today. She never usually acts this way. She’s a great agent. Very dedicated. Very in control. Very knowledgeable, but neither of us has ever worked on such a frustrating case.’

Hunter replied with a subtle nod. ‘It’s not a problem. I understand her frustration.’

‘Frustration is just a small part of it,’ Garcia said, sounding a lot less forgiving than Hunter.

Agent Williams looked back at him.

‘C’mon, we can stop pretending here,’ Garcia elaborated. ‘It’s more than obvious that what’s really eating her is the fact that she feels threatened by us.’

Through the two-way mirror they all saw Agent Fisher step into the interrogation room and close the door behind her.

No reaction from the man at the table.

‘The two of you were assigned as the lead agents in Director Kennedy’s niece’s homicide investigation,’ Garcia continued. ‘That’s a huge responsibility, bestowed upon you by the director himself, which means that he not only trusts you, but he probably also considers the pair of you to be his best agents. Of course you guys want to do well for him, but after over two months of no results and a few downfalls, things have gone a little pear-shaped, haven’t they? Tempers were probably already running high before Director Kennedy decided to invite us to join the investigation.’ He shrugged as he corrected himself. ‘And by us I mean Robert; I’m just a consequence. Anyway, Agent Fisher didn’t like that at all, because in her head all it meant was that all of a sudden, in Director Kennedy’s eyes, the FBI golden pair didn’t seem to be shining so bright anymore.’

Agent Williams found it hard to retort.

‘I’m not sure what she thinks is going to happen,’ Garcia proceeded. ‘But we’re not here to discredit anyone or to tread on anyone’s toes. We’re not here to compete against you and we sure as hell aren’t here trying to impress Director Kennedy or anyone else. We just want to catch this psycho as much as you do.’

The multidirectional microphone on the ceiling above the metal table inside the interrogation room picked up Agent Fisher’s voice loud and clear, sending everyone inside the observation room into a deep silence. Through the speakers they all heard her introduce herself, then tell the man that she was the senior agent in charge of the entire investigation and that this would be his only opportunity to talk to her.

Hunter kept his arms folded in front of his chest and his full attention on the man sitting at the table. He would rather be inside the interrogation room, but even from the other side of the two-way mirror, he had a clear enough view of the man to be able to search his facial expressions and body movements for any telltale signs. He saw the man’s stare intensify, as if he were weighing up what Agent Fisher had just told him. When she asked him for a name and upon his silence suggested that she come up with one for him, Hunter saw the subtle shrug the man had given her in reply.

When Fisher mentioned the word ‘artist’, there was a slight twitch to his left eye, which intrigued Hunter.

‘Did you see that?’ Agent Williams asked.