Cash Plays

Home > Other > Cash Plays > Page 9
Cash Plays Page 9

by Cordelia Kingsbridge


  Wen nodded to Rohan and sat on Martine’s other side. Stepping up to the podium, Rohan favored the audience with a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Sergeant,” he said in his smooth, quiet voice. “And thank you as well to the entire LVMPD for inviting me to consult on this case.”

  A sudden hush fell over the entire room. Levi barely managed not to roll his eyes.

  “The challenge in finding serial killers like the Seven of Spades is that they have no personal connection to their victims. The usual investigative tactic of examining a victim’s relationships for people with a motive for murder won’t work, because it isn’t the victim as an individual that motivates the killer—rather, it’s what that victim represents to the killer. My job is to examine the victims’ characteristics, the manner in which the crimes were committed, and in this case, the multiple communications with the killer themselves, in order to create a profile that can help narrow the search of what may seem to be an overwhelming suspect pool.”

  Rohan clicked the remote control to the projector, bringing up a PowerPoint slideshow on the screen behind him. The initial image was of Billy Campbell, the Seven of Spades’s first victim, who had been found reclining on his living room couch like he was taking a nap.

  “Let’s begin with the Seven of Spades’s MO, which has remained remarkably consistent. The killer first administers a paralytic dose of the dissociative anesthetic ketamine through a beverage, then stands behind the incapacitated victim and slits their throat from left to right.”

  He advanced through a series of images. The victims’ bodies were positioned differently, but in each case the killing stroke was exactly the same.

  “One of the most important features the crime scenes have in common is that there has never been a single sign of struggle or forced entry. Theoretically, it is possible to coerce or threaten a person into drinking a drugged beverage without them putting up a fight, but it strains credulity that the killer could have pulled that off ten times in a row without at least one victim resisting. The likelier explanation is—”

  “The killer doesn’t seem to pose a threat,” said Dean Birndorf, Levi’s captain.

  “Exactly.” Rohan pointed to the screen. “All of the victims killed personally by the Seven of Spades, with the notable exception of Matthew Goodwin, were found in their homes or offices. Not only did they invite the killer into these private spaces, they felt comfortable drinking around them. You don’t let a person into your home and give them a chance to spike your orange juice—as Loretta Kane did—if you’re in any way suspicious. The Seven of Spades either appears nonthreatening or is able to present themselves as a trusted authority figure.”

  Well, no shit. They’d all known that since the beginning of the investigation.

  “After death, the victims’ bodies are arranged in a lifelike manner.” Rohan put up an image of one of the more recent victims, Terry Allen.

  As a youth pastor in a local evangelical Christian church, Allen had run a “conversion therapy” program for LGBT children and teenagers for years, and there had been a public outcry when it was revealed that half a dozen kids who’d gone through the program had later committed suicide. Because there was nothing illegal about his program, though, there was nothing law enforcement could do.

  The Seven of Spades had used a complex setup of wire and pulleys to arrange Allen as if he were kneeling in prayer at the altar of his church, in front of a shrine of photographs of the dead children and tons of flickering blood-red candles.

  “Here is where we see the greatest variation in execution. As the killer has gained confidence, experience, and notoriety, they’ve become increasingly creative and elaborate in staging the bodies. These displays are now always accompanied by references to or direct evidence of the victims’ bad deeds.”

  The next image was a close-up of a blood-spattered seven of spades card.

  “The finishing touch is the killer’s namesake—an ordinary seven of spades playing card placed somewhere on the victim’s body. The symbolism here is obvious.”

  Levi frowned in confusion, and he wasn’t the only one.

  “Symbolism?” Wen asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Rohan said, his tone one of mild puzzlement. “The choice of the seven of spades isn’t random; it’s deliberate and quite pointed.”

  “I always thought they just liked the alliteration,” said Carmen Rivera from a few rows back. She was a technical analyst in Levi’s substation and had been integral to the case since April.

  Rohan chuckled. “Ah, yes, I assume that was part of the appeal. But if that were the only criteria, why not the six of spades or the king of clubs? Why a number from the middle of the deck, rather than an ace or king or queen?” Spreading his hands, he said, “What’s the most visceral association the number seven has in Western culture?”

  “The Seven Dwarves?” Jonah Gibbs called out. A wave of snickers ran through the room.

  “The seven deadly sins,” Martine said.

  Rohan smiled at her. “Precisely—the seven moral failings which drive people to the corruption the killer is punishing. As for the suit, a spade is an object used for digging in dirt.”

  “Like digging a grave,” Levi said with dawning realization.

  “Yes. The Seven of Spades has always made their mission clear through their calling card.”

  For fuck’s sake. Levi rubbed his eyes with one hand, trying not to grind his teeth. In all his months of obsessively pursuing the Seven of Spades, how had he never understood something so obvious?

  “Finally,” Rohan said, “we have the last salient aspect of the crimes. The killer has committed ten murders—eleven including Drew Barton, though we now know that was the work of a contract killer—without leaving a single trace of physical or electronic evidence. Among other things, this suggests familiarity with law enforcement protocol and procedure, perhaps through direct employment or employment in a related field such as law.”

  He clicked through to the next slide, which was a summary of the points detailed so far.

  “Further, I believe that the Seven of Spades’s profession is one which allows for a flexible schedule with a great deal of autonomy and independence, as their crimes have been committed at all hours of the day and on various days of the week.” Setting down the remote, Rohan turned back to the audience. “So what does all this tell us about the killer’s personality? They’re organized, methodical, self-controlled. They’re intelligent and, as is supported by the language used in their verbal and written communication with the police, well educated. However, the Seven of Spades also has a clear sadistic streak.”

  “How so?” asked Troy Burton, a detective on Levi and Martine’s squad.

  “Consider the mode of death they’ve chosen. They drug their victims to incapacitate them but not to render them unconscious. The victims are awake when they’re killed, yet disoriented and unable to move. The killer then slits their throats from behind the way you’d slaughter an animal, not even giving them the respect of looking their killer in the eye.”

  Chairs creaked as several people shifted uncomfortably.

  “We can also see that the Seven of Spades has a flair for the dramatic as well as an intense craving for recognition,” Rohan went on. “In fact, that need to be seen and understood may be more important to the killer than the murders themselves—consider that they were willing to suspend their spree for five days in April in exchange for press coverage, and they chose to hire a professional sniper to kill Drew Barton in the most public and sensational way possible rather than kill him personally.”

  Levi couldn’t help but interrupt. “They hired a sniper because they couldn’t make that shot. Most people couldn’t.”

  “True. So why not wait for a better time and catch him alone? The Seven of Spades sacrificed an opportunity to slit Barton’s throat and indulge their usual ritual in favor of having him publicly executed in front of the media. That must have been the more satisfying option to them; it’s
the only time they’ve deviated from their MO.”

  Barton had been different from the other victims, though. Not only had he personally insulted the Seven of Spades by trying to frame them for his wife’s murder, he’d tried to kill Levi as well, which had infuriated the Seven of Spades further. Then his defense attorney had demonized Levi during a public trial. His death hadn’t just been the killer making a splashy comeback—it had been revenge and, Levi suspected, a sort of twisted apology.

  But he didn’t want to bring that up in front of all these people, so he kept his mouth shut.

  “Turning to the characteristics of the victims, we observe a great diversity of gender, race, and socioeconomic status,” Rohan said, continuing the slideshow. “At this time, I have no evidence on which to base a theory of the killer’s own gender or race.”

  Carmen raised a hand and said, “Aren’t most serial killers white men?”

  “Most apprehended serial killers have historically been white men, yes. However, there is a great deal of controversy in the field on this subject. Given that the Seven of Spades shows no gender or racial preference in victim selection, has never used gender- or race-based language in their communications, and there are no sexual elements to the crimes themselves, I think it would be unwise to prejudice our thought process with the assumptions that the killer must be white or male simply because they’re a serial killer.”

  The next slide broke down what they knew about why the Seven of Spades had targeted each victim. The offenses ranged from rape and embezzlement to corruption and child abuse.

  “What the victims do have in common was that they had all harmed people in ways that involved a breach of trust,” said Rohan. “Furthermore, they were either getting away with it or, from a certain perspective, had not been punished fairly. Not all of these transgressions were illegal, making it clear that it isn’t lawbreaking in and of itself that the Seven of Spades takes issue with. The killer themselves has confirmed this in recorded conversations with Detective Abrams.”

  Levi felt all eyes on him, but he kept his own gaze focused straight ahead.

  “Worryingly, some of the victims’ misdeeds were not public knowledge, which lends weight to the theory that the Seven of Spades is involved with law enforcement or the legal system.”

  Levi tensed as Rohan moved through the next series of slides: photographs of messages the Seven of Spades had left for either him or Dominic, dating all the way back to April.

  “Analysis of the crime scenes and victim selection, along with the Seven of Spades’s phone conversations, text messages, and written messages, paints the picture of an individual with a strict moral code and a black-and-white mentality. What’s interesting is that this individual is clearly capable of at least limited empathy and remorse, as indicated by their intervention to assist Detective Abrams when he was assaulted by Drew Barton.”

  Tilting his head, Rohan looked over at Levi.

  “In fact, the Seven of Spades’s clear attachment to Detective Abrams is one of the most extraordinary aspects of this case. The language they use indicates a general respect for law enforcement, if a sense of exasperation, but also a very specific and concrete respect for the detective himself. They have repeatedly put themselves at risk of discovery not only to assist him, but simply to make personal connections with him and his partner, Dominic Russo.”

  It was a struggle for Levi not to react. He hated being stared at, and he could hear the whispers in the back of the room, even if he couldn’t make out the words.

  “Since the Seven of Spades reappeared in August, they’ve killed at a rate of about once every two weeks.” Rohan gestured to a chart on the screen. “But it’s now been over two and a half weeks since the last murder, with no word from the killer. Why?”

  Levi already knew—of course he knew. He just didn’t want it said aloud. But he felt Martine react beside him as understanding dawned.

  “Because Levi’s been on vacation,” she said slowly. “And then he had family visiting from out of town.”

  “Yes. It’s my belief that the Seven of Spades has delayed their next murder so as not to interfere with Detective Abrams’s personal life.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Levi snapped. “This nutjob latched onto me because I was one of the lead detectives on their case, and onto Dominic because he found one of the first bodies. Then Dominic and I were the only people who believed they’d framed Keith Chapman, so of course they’ve watched us ever since. It’s just a stupid game of cat-and-mouse. There’s no deeper meaning to it.”

  Rohan shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. But my official profile does include the conclusion that the Seven of Spades not only knows you personally, but respects and admires you.”

  Levi made a disgruntled noise, but settled down when Martine put a stilling hand on his elbow.

  “These evidence-based conclusions allow us to analyze the deeper motivation behind the Seven of Spades’s crimes. Oftentimes with ritualized murders where the killer sees themselves as a figure of justice or retribution, there’s a religious element involved. However, the Seven of Spades has never referenced God or any other deity or higher power. Similarly, there’s no indication that they’re influenced by delusions that would drive them to commit murder. So why do they choose to kill these particular victims in this particular manner?”

  Everyone in the room, Martine included, was waiting with bated breath. Levi clenched his jaw. Was he the only one who found Rohan’s debonair special agent shtick irritating?

  “Trauma,” Rohan said after his ridiculously dramatic pause. “When the Seven of Spades first became active, the LVMPD’s approach was to search for people with histories of being the aggressor in violent altercations motivated by righteousness or revenge. That was a common-sense tactic at the time, but by now the evidence points in a different direction. Incapacitating targets with drugs instead of violence, killing with a single passionless stroke and no further mutilation of the bodies, staging crime scenes in ways that emphasize the victim’s guilt—this is not the behavior of a predator. It’s the behavior of a victim.”

  His interest piqued despite himself, Levi leaned forward. Intrigued murmurs rippled through the briefing room.

  “I’ve done word frequency analyses of the killer’s communications.” While Rohan spoke, he cycled through several slides displaying his data. “Notice how often they use words like ‘trust,’ ‘betrayal,’ ‘treachery,’ and their derivatives. Weighing all the killer’s behavior together, we’re dealing with a person who’s been traumatized by a violent event that shook the intrinsic sense of safety and trust that is fundamental to healthy human functioning. The Seven of Spades’s murders are a way of both asserting control over a frightening environment and punishing their original victimizer over and over again.”

  The murmurs exploded into loud whispers. “This is all fascinating speculation,” Levi said flatly, “but how is it supposed to help us? Most people don’t walk around advertising their trauma, and it wouldn’t exactly be ethical for us to grill every suspect we come across about every horrible thing that’s happened to them.”

  “This isn’t speculation, Detective Abrams,” Rohan said with a tolerant, look-how-patient-I-am smile. “It’s deductive reasoning rooted in observable behavior and psychological analysis. And the sort of trauma we’re talking about—the sort that would trigger sadistic, homicidal behavior—would bleed into every aspect of the individual’s life. It should be easily revealed through proper investigative work.”

  His eye contact was oddly intense as he spoke. Levi drew back, uneasy.

  “So we’re looking for the victim of a violent incident who also fits the rest of the profile?” asked Martine.

  “Ah, yes.” Rohan gave Levi one more lingering glance before returning to his presentation. “I’ve added a few more elements to the profile as well. First, although it would have been the smartest course of action to leave Las Vegas after Keith Chapman was successfully framed, the Seven of S
pades chose to stay. That suggests they have meaningful ties to the city, whether through their job, family, friends, or all three. What we know of their personality indicates that their life will appear stable and orderly to an outside observer. Lastly, we’re dealing with an able-bodied person most likely between the ages of thirty and fifty, judging by the experience necessary to commit these crimes as well as the physicality needed to stage the bodies and move in and out of the crime scenes undetected.”

  He forwarded to the final slide, which broke the profile down into bullet points.

  “To summarize: the Seven of Spades is a physically healthy, able-bodied adult of indeterminate race and gender. They are extremely intelligent and well educated, working in law enforcement or the legal system in a position with a flexible schedule and little oversight, allowing for great freedom of movement throughout the day. They’ve put down important roots in Las Vegas that they are unwilling to give up. This person is—or appears to be—organized and highly self-controlled, though the people closest to them may see cracks in that image. They are capable of empathy and compassion, but they live according to a strict moral code and do not hesitate to perpetrate violence against those who violate that code. Finally, this person experienced a severe traumatic event that fundamentally altered their perspective of the world and the way they live their life, creating serious psychological issues surrounding matters of trust and personal safety.”

  Beside Levi, Martine had gone absolutely still. He breathed shallowly through his mouth, staring at the screen, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

  Rohan had just described Levi himself.

  “Levi!” Martine ran after him into the empty break room. “Levi, wait.”

  He caught himself on the edge of the counter and hung his head between his arms. The last fifteen minutes of the briefing were a hazy blur; all he remembered was jumping out of his seat the moment they’d been dismissed and rushing out of the room.

 

‹ Prev