by Rick Murcer
“Hey, I’ve never been a mom, but I understand. I’ve been married to Alex, and that’s almost the same thing,” said Barb, smiling.
Chloe laughed. “I imagine it is. Men are much like children. Their toys cost more, and they have more hair, even if it’s on their backs, and other . . . things, but mostly the same.”
“Well said.”
“So if you don’t mind me asking, how come ya had no children?”
“That’s no real secret. We simply couldn’t get pregnant. It was a little of him and a little of me. We checked out the fertility route, and that really wasn’t for us. We discussed adoption, but in the end, we decided no, at least so far. I’m pushing forty, though, and seeing little Ian is a serious reason to reconsider. Alex thinks so too.”
“That’s great. Some lucky kid could get you two for parents.”
“That just might happen.” Barb stole a quick look at Chloe. “So is it tough? Being a mom?”
“It’s wonderful. It’s like falling in love every day without the drama, ya know? Well, except for the diaper part.”
“Oh, that works for me. Even the diapers.”
They laughed.
“Do ya have another question?”
Barb exhaled. “I do. Why aren’t you with Manny and the others? They could use you.”
“Maybe. I’ve seen a thing or two. But Manny is always so far ahead with the profiling part that I didn’t see the point, especially with the new girl, Belle. She’s very bright and eager to get to it.”
“You’re not so eager?”
The ocean breeze gently pushed Chloe’s hair away from her face as she reflected over the last year. Joining the Lansing Police Department had been good. Losing Gavin and Mike in Las Vegas had been hell, then Ian was born and the scale tipped in the other direction again. Ups and down in life were the norm. Yet . . .
“I guess I’m not. Manny thinks there’s only so much of the negative parts of life that we can bear. Then the mind or body simply won’t handle more. I think the man is on to something.”
“That man of yours is special.”
Chloe’s phone rang, and she almost jumped to answer it. She looked at the number and frowned. She didn’t recognize the number, and then she did. Her stomach dropped as her mind immediately ran wild.
“This is Chloe Williams.”
“Hello, Detective. This is Detective Frank Wymer with the LPD.”
“Yes Frank, I got that. Is there something wrong?”
“I’m not sure. When was the last time you heard from your mother or step-daughter?”
CHAPTER-46
“Define robust,” said Manny.
“According to the files I received from my offices in Mexico City, perhaps thirty to fifty million American dollars per year. And that is probably conservative. Cozumel as well as the mainland has seen more thefts and robberies involving the Mayan and Aztec ruins over the last several years. We had a small task force assigned to stop it. They were fairly successful, but it was simply impossible to guard the dozens of sites throughout Mexico. Eventually, after a few months, the task force was disbanded, and the locals were on their own.”
“Why?” asked Josh.
“The government simply doesn’t have the money to protect all of our people’s needs, Agent Corner. Our resources are focused on saving lives.”
“Were there any big players arrested in this game?” asked Manny.
Munoz shook his head. “A few underlings, two or three museum officials, but these people are very bright and have far more resources than we do.”
“Wow. Who knew?” said Sophie.
“A better question is why this is important to this case?” asked Josh.
Manny ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not totally sure yet, but I don’t think the killer is as motivated by his psychosis or his dedication to the Mayan way as he wants us to believe.”
“I’d call killing six people and kidnapping another pretty psychotic,” said Sophie.
“I don’t think that’s what Manny means,” said Belle. “This guy is covering up his real reasons for killing. Is that right, Manny?”
At times, when someone says out loud what you’ve been thinking, it somehow validates, or invalidates, the offbeat thoughts running around in your head. This was one of those times.
“That’s right. I think this man has been hiding behind a mountain of red herrings.”
“I need to hear this,” said Alex. “And don’t make my head hurt, okay?”
“I’ll try. Listen. The first four killings were personal, obviously. He killed them in a private area and left them. There was no hint of sexual activity with any of them, and that speaks volumes as to his motivation. He wanted these people dead, seemingly enjoyed doing it, but had no desire to desecrate the bodies sexually. In my line of thinking, that makes him a vengeful man and brands these killings a revenge state of affairs.”
“Revenge for what?” asked Sophie.
“I don’t know, but I think we’re getting closer. Sophie’s real relic and the fake one got me to thinking about how the store owner actually came by the authentic piece.”
Munoz answered. “We did check him out, and his claim that he found it before it became illegal to sell them without a full disclosure of how the artifact was acquired seems correct. There are dozens of stores and merchants on the island that have done the same. They were, as you say, grandfathered in.”
“What does full disclosure mean?” asked Belle.
“The Mexican government has determined that there are thousands of minor artifacts that can be sold without affecting the history of our people and the Mayan influence on our culture. The more rare and special finds are analyzed by men like Professor Emmerson and assigned to museums and put on traveling displays throughout the world,” said Munoz.
“For a price, yes?” asked Manny.
“Yes. Much like the Egyptians have done. And if I might add, like you Americans have allowed in Las Vegas with historical objects taken from the Titanic,” Munoz answered with a trace of a wry smile.
“Touché. At any rate, that’s why I wanted the black market information. I checked eBay and a couple of other online sources and found some Mayan pieces there, but none were truly expensive and not altogether rare. And certainly nothing like the stone carving we saw or the second one the university is studying,” said Manny.
“You said you wouldn’t make my brain throb. What does that mean?” said Alex.
“It means that people all over the planet have unusual tastes for rare, exotic objects and can afford them. We know from our work in the U.S. that where there is a will, a network can be built to market and sell anything, including women and children. I think that’s what is happening here with our artifacts.”
“But how does that relate to the murders in this theory of yours?” asked Sophie. “And get to the point. I’m getting hungry, and I haven’t had a margarita in my hand since last night.”
Manny glanced at Munoz then over to Belle. The light in her eyes and the quick twitch around her mouth told him she was getting the picture, no matter how bizarre it would sound. This woman was indeed going to be an asset.
“Say these people who died in this spree were connected in another way. I mean let’s look at what each of them did for a living,” said Belle, tapping the files.
“Samuel Rozen owned several businesses on the island, but if you look at his travel history, according to this paperwork, he was out of Mexico ten to twelve times a year and almost always in the same foreign location at the same time of the year. Dubai. Africa. England. Germany. The list goes on. It could be business related, but he has no known holdings that Munoz’s folks could find in those countries. So why was he there?”
“Go on,” said Josh.
“Two of the victims worked in the same building that housed Rozen’s main office, not counting his bodyguard, who was probably collateral damage to get to Rozen. According to their salaries, bank accounts, and spending habi
ts, both of those ladies had the ability to print money or had another source of income—a big one that the Mexican government knew nothing of. One other thing. Both of those women had worked for Emmerson at the dig site.”
“Shit. Really?” said Alex.
“I’m afraid so. Their AKAs were discovered by a combination of a background search from one of the FBI’s databases and from the Mexican government’s tax records,” said Manny.
“The fourth victim, the man found at the second sacrificial altar, ran an accounting firm. Based on a search of his travel history, he was also out of Cozumel several times a year,” said Belle.
“And it was at the same time as Rozen, right?” said Sophie, her eyes scanning Manny’s face.
Good girl. The light was on.
“Yes. Different flights and times of day, but always in the same cities at the same time,” said Manny.
“That brings us to Aaron Rathburn and the woman he was with when he was murdered.”
Manny glanced down at his notes and then shut the file. He wouldn’t need them.
“Remember when I talked to Penny Rathburn? She said that her husband loved to collect jaguars. She said it reminded him of his cats in the UK. What she didn’t know, I suspect, was that he was dropping thousands of pounds and euros on rare, illegal Mayan sculptures.”
“You know that how?” asked Dean.
“Let’s just say, after we found his body, we had probable cause to search his accommodations while his wife was undergoing a room change and found this,” said Munoz.
With that, he reached into his pocket and produced a four-inch emerald jaguar enclosed in a clear plastic evidence bag. Manny had seen it before, yet it was just as mesmerizing the second time. The jade color was faded in a few places and one ear was missing, but even a layman like himself could see the value.
“This piece was discovered in the room’s safe, covered in a thin film of oil and dirt to make it look like something other than it is. The curator at The Museo de Isla Cozumel says it is authentic and was probably recovered near Tulum on the mainland. She claims it is worth between fifty and one hundred thousand U.S. dollars for the gemstone alone,” Manny added, “Not accounting for any historical significance.”
“And Emmerson’s people were working at Tulum as well,” said Josh, looking up from his file.
“So we have a black market sale of this relic, and a few circumstantial situations involving people who changed their names, and an accountant who may have been keeping illegal books or, at the very least, helping Rozen hide money from items he was selling, maybe,” said Josh. “Where’s the knockout punch here?”
Reaching for one more file folder from one of his staff, Munoz tossed it on the table.
“I fear these people were not as smart as they believed. The phone records from the first five victims make for interesting reading, once we finally received them. While there were some clever attempts to hide identities by purchasing pay-as-you-go phones in different countries and in Mexico, they failed to consider tower locations. You are all aware of how close communications can be traced to tower usage. Each of the first five victims had been in contact with a minimum of three of the others. In the end, it is enough to link them all together.”
The room took a collective breath. Manny thought it good. New air brought new perspective.
Sophie broke the silence. “You said five victims. What about the woman found with Rathburn and our missing number seven?”
Munoz shook his head. “We don’t know yet. The female with the Brit was a local, but doesn’t appear to have anything to do with this black-market ring. She worked at a local coffee shop and modeled on the side. We’re still digging, however. And as far as we can tell, the still-missing woman, number seven, is employed with a pharmacy five blocks over and has no apparent connection either. Again, we’re still checking.”
Belle stood, flexed her knee, and then lifted a sheet of white paper from the wooden table, holding it tight in her hand.
“So this killer wipes out five people, and Rozen’s bodyguard, associated with this black-market group. He had to be well organized and knew exactly what he was doing. I’d say it took months to put everything in place the way he wanted. He probably also made lists of things to remember and monitored habits of the victims so he knew when and where to strike. If he truly does have some kind of physical condition, then that makes him even more dangerous because he was determined in spite of any handicap.”
“All true,” said Manny.
“But with all of that, we still don’t know why he killed these people,” said Belle.
“Like, what’s his motivation?” asked Sophie, batting her eyes.
“Smartass,” said Alex.
“Hey, don’t be talking about my ass, Dough Boy.”
“Yeah. That’s not a problem. Is that fake too?”
“I don’t know. Is that gut for real?”
Belle snickered and Dean followed suit.
“Later you two,” said Manny.
“Just a little comic relief to change the mood,” said Sophie, smiling.
Mission accomplished, thought Manny. Sometimes this girl was brilliant. Getting off the subject for a moment always brought a certain freshness to discussions like this. He suspected they would need it.
“Theories on why he killed?” Manny asked.
“How about the obvious? He hated the artifacts leaving the country and wanted to preserve the Mayan history on Cozumel?” asked Josh.
“That would explain the sacrificial side of his killings. He wanted to remain true to the culture and protect it at the same time,” said Belle.
“The thing is how would he know about the illegal sales? It’s not like they put out a sign,” said Alex.
“We haven’t talked about this yet, but did we get back all of the other background checks of the people who worked the sites?” asked Sophie. “Obviously, those people are suspects.”
Shaking his head, Munoz answered. “We didn’t bring it up sooner because they seemed to be irrelevant. As with the first six people you profiled, none of these people panned out as true suspects. Two were victims. The curators both check out. One is female; the other has a heart condition that barely allows him the energy to get to work and return to his home. Three of the undergrad students are working archeological finds in different parts of the world. Three others are in grad school in the U.S. and Mexico City. His PhD candidates are also not of interest. Oddly enough, they married each other and moved to Washington, D.C. One is teaching at Georgetown University, the other works at the Smithsonian. Of course, we still have a few things to verify, like passport and travel records for these people, but none of them look like our killer.”
“Damn it. Now what? We’re sure of our profile, right?” asked Sophie.
“We are. I’d swear by it. We’re obviously missing something, however. Not to mention trying to decipher what role these last two women are playing in the killer’s world,” said Manny.
“You make the big bucks. What do you think?” asked Sophie. She turned to Josh. “He does make big bucks, right?”
“Hell yes. He ain’t cheap. Manny?”
Rubbing his face with both hands, Manny offered a tired smile. “You both need a drink. Wait, maybe all of us need one.”
He turned to Josh. “What about this line of thinking? If you were this type of killer and trying to cover your real purpose, and assuming you weren’t a psycho spree killer in the true sense . . . what else would motivate you?”
“Well, firstly, I’d like not to be caught, buying into your line of thinking, so I’d think that through?” said Belle. “Again, assuming I wasn’t a true sociopath.”
“I’d want to be as far away as west is from east then. So maybe I’m not an actual expert on Mayan sacrifice rituals in the true academia sense,” said Dean. “With the Internet these days, one could become fairly versed in just about any arena.”
“Hey. Not bad, handsome. I’ll thank you later,
” said Sophie, winking. “Umm. Okay. Going along with that, just brainstorming here. Maybe he’s done research on what spree killers really do too.”
“And maybe he doesn’t have a true limp,” said Alex.
Manny shook his head. “That’s a ton of ifs, and we could be overthinking the hell out of this. Say we're not, however. We need to examine one thing at a time. I still believe he’s educated, but that can take on a few faces. Perhaps he needed something to change his focus, and ours. You know, something that has truly piqued his interest versus what he’s trained to do. His methods are still those of a scientist, in my mind. I’ll give you that he wants us to think differently, but there is no denying his methodology. Also—”
The door sprung open and one of San Miguel’s finest entered, running straight to Munoz. He handed him a note and waited.
The inspector read the writing on the white paper and sighed, crushing the paper in his hand.
“We have located the latest kidnapped woman.”
Manny felt the chill run down his spine.
“And?”
Munoz’s eyes became glossy as he fought his emotion. Inhaling while drawing himself to his full height, he moved toward the door, speaking to Manny and the rest of the BAU without looking back.
“Come with me.”
CHAPTER-47
Chloe rose from her chair, knocking over her drink but hardly noticing.
“What does that mean, Frank? Is there trouble? And don’t ya lie to me, man.”
The large detective’s hesitation did little for her confidence and encouraged the fluttering in her chest to new heights.
“Calm down, Chloe. It’s probably nothing. Jen’s friend Stacie Wells was involved in a carjacking.”
“What? Is she all right?”
Barb got up and stood beside Chloe, eyes wide with concern as she stood next to her friend.
Frank said, “She’s fine. She’s going home today.”
“What’s that got to do with Jen or Mum or Ian?”
“I’ll make this short. It seems that Jen got a good look at the jacker, because he drove by your house a few hours after taking Stacie’s car. Haley Rose took Jen to the hospital to see Stacie, with Ian of course, and together they did a composite of the perp, and it’s on the wire.”