Josh Lanyon - The Mermaid Murders

“That’s debatable.” Even so Kennedy seemed to be mulling over Jason’s words. “This could easily be some kind of urban legend. It wouldn’t be at all surprising under the circumstances.”

“Something else,” Jason said. “When Charlotte was talking to me, her father came out of the back office and shut her up before she could say anything else. It wasn’t subtle.”

“Now that’s not at all surprising.” Kennedy’s tone was dry. “The only other person who came even briefly under suspicion as Pink’s possible accomplice was George Simpson.”

“George Simpson?” Jason repeated. “The George Simpson who went out to Rexford with us today?”

“The same.”

“The George Simpson who, according to Chief Gervase, knows these woods like the back of his hand?”

“That’s right.” Meeting Jason’s look, Kennedy smiled faintly. “No. Simpson was cleared of all suspicion.”

“Why was he under suspicion in the first place?”

“Because Simpson sold the mermaids to Pink.”

It was plain English, but the words didn’t make sense. Jason said, “You lost me. Sold what mermaids to Pink?”

“Ah. You wouldn’t know about that. We kept it out of the press.” Kennedy slid the photo he had been scrutinizing across the desktop.

Jason picked it up. It took a second or two to make sense of what he was seeing. A small talisman or charm carved out of what was probably wood and enlarged many times over so the details of the carving were clear. Tiny scales and fins on a small female form that was half human and half fish.

A mermaid.

“What is this?” His throat felt tight. He already knew what it was. Honey had carried one like it that summer. A small mermaid charm on her key ring.

“Nearly every one of Pink’s victims was found with one of those,” Kennedy said. “A carved mermaid charm. Each one distinct but similar.”

“Found with them?” Jason echoed. His stomach gave an unhappy lurch as he remembered Kennedy squatting beside Rebecca, taking his pen out, and leaning over her body.

“In their mouths,” Kennedy said. “Each girl had a mermaid in her mouth.”

Chapter Nine

“Who the hell has been erasing my notes off this board?” Chief Gervase glared at the weary officers seated in what was now being termed the Command Center of the Kingsfield Police Station. “Officer Courtney? How many times have I told you about taking it upon yourself to tidy up after me?”

Officer Courtney looked outraged. “I didn’t touch that board, Chief.”

No one else responded. Gervase, as tired as everyone else in the room after the long and arduous day that had followed the discovery of Rebecca’s body, seemed to give up. He released a long pent-up sigh and nodded at Kennedy, who was seated on the low, wide window sill.

“A couple of you have asked why I’m requesting the FBI to take point on this investigation when we’ve already got the State Police and other key resources. I’ll tell you why. Some of you remember Special Agent Sam Kennedy from ten years ago when he helped us bring Martin Pink to justice. Nobody knows the players in this case better than him. And that’s what we need right now. That kind of perspective and that kind of insight.”

Gervase sat down in a chair next to the whiteboard. Kennedy rose and took the chief’s place at the front of the room.

“First thing to keep in mind is we don’t yet know who the players are this time around,” Kennedy said.

“We know we’re dealing with a copycat,” Gervase said.

“It looks that way at this juncture of the investigation.” Somehow Kennedy’s concession hinted this didn’t mean a whole hell of a lot.

A slim, dark-haired woman put her hand up, and Jason recognized Officer Dale. Kennedy nodded at her.

“Is it possible we’re not dealing with a copycat so much as a previously unknown accomplice of Martin Pink?”

“We have a critical piece of evidence that would seem to suggest an accomplice,” Gervase agreed.

Jason could see Kennedy didn’t like the direction this was going, but ironically it was his own fault. He had been the one to show the mermaid charm to Gervase’s officers and George Simpson. It was inevitable word was going to spread. In fact, Jason realized, Kennedy must have been fairly shaken to have forgotten his normal inclination to hoard all possible information to himself.

No matter how certain Kennedy was that Martin Pink was the Huntsman, seeing that mermaid charm must have given him a very bad moment.

And on the topic of that critical piece of evidence, Kennedy’s antipathy for the idea the Huntsman might have had an accomplice seemed illogical given there was no way a copycat could have learned about the mermaid angle.

Or could he?

It could be someone close to Pink or maybe peripherally involved in the earlier investigation. Someone who had never been noticed or had been safely forgotten.

Or someone who had never appeared on the radar because their relationship with Pink was relatively recent.

Maybe not an accomplice. Maybe an apprentice?

Jason tuned back in. Chief Gervase was saying, “Dwayne Pink passed two years ago. He always maintained he knew nothing about what his baby brother was up to, but that’s bullshit. He had to have some idea.”

Kennedy heard this out before saying briskly, “There are notable similarities to the Huntsman case. But we’ve also got significant deviations from the previous MO. To begin with, the remains of all other victims were found within twenty-four hours and within ten miles of where they were abducted. Their bodies were left in the woods, and there was no attempt to hide the remains. In fact, Pink enjoyed the idea his victims would eventually be found. He wanted to inflict maximum horror and outrage on this community.”

“Just because it took awhile to find Rebecca’s body doesn’t mean the killer didn’t want her found.” Boxner had only just arrived. He leaned against the back wall of the room, arms folded.

“Choosing Rexford to dump the body is a definite break with the previous pattern,” Kennedy said. “There were significant logistical challenges to transporting her so far from home which indicates her killer either did not want her found or that Rexford itself has some meaning for him. Or both.”

“What meaning?” Officer Dale asked. “How would we figure that out?”

“We won’t know that until we begin to compile the profile of our unsub. We may not fully understand that piece of the puzzle until we apprehend him.”

“It is definitely a him?”

“Yes,” Kennedy said. “Our unsub is unquestionably male and in peak physical condition.”

“Do we have an actual profile yet?” Gervase asked.

“We’re working on it.”

“No hurry,” Gervase said acridly.

Jason understood the acridness, but until that mermaid charm had turned up, there had been a very good chance they were looking at a completely different crime, unconnected to the earlier killings. The charm changed everything. Now, yes, they were having to move fast to catch up.

Kennedy said, “Frankly, this crime doesn’t fit the classic pathology. While there are obvious indications of an organized and methodical offender, the crime itself is disorganized.”

“Like Pink,” Gervase said.

“Appearances to the contrary, Pink was not a disorganized offender.”

Boxner said, “Wouldn’t a copycat killer stick right to Pink’s playbook?”

“Not necessarily. This offender will want to add his own artistic touches. In fact, he’s probably unable to resist adding such touches.”

Gervase said, “What are some of these other deviations?”

Kennedy said, “The most obvious? Rebecca Madigan was taken from a crowded event in what amounts to full view of over fifty people.”