The Poisonous Ten

by Tyler Compton

  “Correct. Next are the petals. It may appear that the flower has ten petals, but actually there are only five. The remaining five are sepals. But together, the ten of them are said to represent the ten faithful apostles.”

  “Ten,” Parks muttered, but everyone heard him.

  “So what? You’re telling me that this nut is killing people because he thinks he’s Christ and he has in mind ten dead victims as his apostles?” Wilkes asked gruffly.

  “It’s a possibility,” Parks said. “Look. We don’t have to agree with why this guy is killing, but it will help us stop him if we can figure out why he’s doing what he’s doing. No matter how crazy it is. But that definitely sounds like a possibility.”

  “Christ wouldn’t want his apostles dead, would he?” asked Moore. “I mean, they’re his apostles.”

  “So then maybe this guy is working for the other side?” Wilkes suggested. “Getting revenge for what’s-his-name?”

  “Wait? Weren’t there twelve Apostles?” Fairmont asked.

  “Traditionally, they are Peter, Andrew, James the Greater, James the Lesser, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, Thaddeus, Simon and Judas Iscariot,” Parks answered to the best of his recollection. “Judas is generally considered one of the Twelve but when he betrayed Jesus, he killed himself. Then I think Judas was replaced by someone else. But if you look in some of the other books, like Mark or John, they give different names of the apostles. So I have no idea. Someone look it up to be sure.”

  Jackie and Moore both stared at Parks with awe.

  “What? I went to Sunday school,” Parks smirked, looking back down at the Rubik’s Cube and finishing off another side. “Anyway, that’s something we should look into fur—”

  “Wait. Wait. Wait,” Tippin said, cutting Parks off, as he looked up from his tablet. “Apparently, the ten petals represent the ten apostles, minus Peter, who denied Jesus, and Judas, who betrayed him.”

  “So then maybe this guy thinks he’s Peter or Judas getting revenge by poisoning these ten people?” Wilkes suggested.

  “But why these ten people?” Moore asked. “They’re not apostles. They’re just average, everyday people. Why them?”

  “That’s what we need to find out,” Parks said. “But at least it’s an angle. Which is more than we had a few minutes ago. Maybe it’s a stretch. But it’s something to work with.”

  “What about the gay angle?” Wilkes asked.

  “What?”

  “Doc here said the flower had both religious and gay connections. What’s the gay connection?”

  Parks turned to Jackie.

  “Most of the Passion references originated through the Catholic religion. But over in Japan there isn’t a whole lot of Catholic symbolism. The passionflowers there are generally referred to as Clock Face flowers, but in some of the larger, more urban areas, the flower is a symbol of homosexual youths. There are several reasons for this, and I won’t bore you all with the details now, but I’ll make a report and attach it to the murder book.”

  “So chances are that our killer killed Kyle Oni because he was gay?” Parks asked. “That would make this a hate crime.”

  “It would,” Jackie began, “if that was why he was killed. I believe he was chosen because he was gay, I don’t think he was killed because he was gay.”

  “Excuse me?” Wilkes said.

  “Our killer is complicated. He’s thought this out. In great detail. He’s not randomly choosing blonde or obese women or dirty hookers off the street who remind him of his mother or the schoolyard bully. He’s killed both male and female. Young and old. Of various races. None of that matters. He’s doing this for a reason. There’s a purpose to all of this as far as he’s concerned. He’s sending a message of some sort. Might not make sense to us, but he is. I think in accordance with whatever message he’s trying to spread, he’s sought out the people who best help spread that message. I think somewhere in there was the need for a gay man. But though he’s part of the message, I don’t think it was a personal attack because Kyle Oni was gay. If that makes sense.”

  “Yeah, tell that to the LGBT and whoever else handles this sort of thing,” Wilkes snapped.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Hardwick said, storming into the room. “I’ve got Media Relations handling them. Just make sure you get me everything there is to know about his death so they can properly do that.”

  “So you’re saying he wasn’t attacked because he was gay?” Wilkes said. “He just came out a few days ago. And very publicly. Every gay rights group will be all over this.”

  “And I said I’ll handle them. You all stay focused on the case. What’s next?”

  “They’re going to play it off as an unrelated suicide, aren’t they?” Parks muttered.

  “That’s not for you to worry about,” Hardwick said. “This case is your only priority. Not what the public believes.”

  “I don’t mean to be racist or anything, but what’s the possibility we’re looking for a Japanese killer?” Fairmont interjected.

  “How so?” Parks asked.

  “Well, if the gay themes came from Japan—”

  “Actually,” Jackie interrupted, “though the gay references regarding the flower are more pronounced in Japanese culture, it is thought that the connection may have started in America and simply worked its way over to Japan. Difference is, over there they’re slightly less conservative in regards to these matters, so it’s simply more vocalized than what we’re used to over here.”

  “And this is in regards to all gays?” Parks asked.

  “If you’re asking about men versus women, the flower is more associated with young gay men as opposed to women,” Jackie said. “Wakashu, they’re called.”

  “It’s an angle,” Hardwick said, getting everyone’s attention focused once more.

  “Agreed,” Parks said, standing up. “And so far one of the best ones we’ve gotten. We may be reading more into this particular type of poison, but it’s a start. See if there’s any connection between the flower and each of the poisons that’s been used so far.” Parks looked to Jackie when he said this. “Then see if there’s any reason behind these particular poisons being used, period. Maybe someone famous used them in a speech. Maybe some report out there done sometime in the past named all of these poisons for some reason. Check it all.”

  Jackie nodded, as did most of the others sitting at the table.

  “He’s punishing these people,” Parks said out of nowhere, staring at the murder board.

  “What’s that?”

  “These deaths. These murders. They’re painful. There’s definitely a reason they’re being chosen and killed with the poisons they’re being affected with. They’re being punished.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Take Kyle Oni. When was his death?”

  “Tanaka hasn’t given us an official time yet, but she thinks early this morning,” Jackie said. “Between five and nine am.”

  “I think it’s closer to nine.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Think about it,” Parks said. “How did we even find out about Kyle Oni?”

  “Because of the phone call,” Fairmont shot out.

  “And when did that come in?”

  Several people began looking through the files in front of them.

  “Seven after nine,” Parks answered without needing to look. “The killer called saying he’d killed again. The call came from the room where Kyle Oni was staying. He was still there at nine. I don’t think he would have called if Oni was still alive for fear of the chance that we could possibly save him. Or get any information from him. So Oni was one hundred percent dead when the killer placed that call. And I don’t think he would have stayed around too long after he died. Chances are he died close to nine.”

  “Why not?” Moore asked.

  “What?”

  “Why wouldn’t the killer have stayed around the death scene a while after the time of death? Some kille
rs like to stay around and be with their victims after they’re dead.”

  “Agreed. But not this guy. He’s not in it for the thrill like a strangler or rapist going for the power. He’s sending a message. He’s doing what he feels he has to do and nothing more. Besides that, like I said, with the passionflower it could take anywhere between fifteen minutes to an hour before the symptoms began to show. Then there’s still the time between that and the actual death. Our killer already spent plenty enough time with our victim. It’s the process they go through that turns him on, not the end result. Death is simply a side effect. What gets him off is watching them suffer. Pay for their sins, so to speak.”

  “So you’re sticking with that theory?” Hardwick asked.

  “We don’t know for sure. And any direction is possible. But personally, I would say yes. This is painful, what he’s doing. Tortuous. He wants his victims to suffer. And they are. I feel he’s delivering a message. I don’t know what that is just yet, but I’d say that’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s punishing these people. There is a connection somewhere.”

  “What do any of the items he’s leaving around the crime scenes have to do with that so-called message?” Hardwick asked. “The honey, the bread, the wine and grapes. The three-one-three written in the lipstick? The photograph?”

  “Tippin? You find something for me yet?” Parks asked.

  “I think I may have,” Tippin said, looking up from his computer.

  “Go on,” Hardwick ordered.

  “You’re right. Honey. Bread. Three-one-three. The grapes and wine. Individually, they mean nothing. Together, they mean nothing. But then Parks suggested I look at each of the items individually, and in association with poison.”

  “And?” Parks asked. “What did you find?”

  “Quotes. Like famous quotes. I think that’s all they are.”

  “Explain,” Hardwick said.

  “Let’s go in order. Take the honey at the Tisdale scene. ‘Deadly poisons are concealed under sweet honey.’”

  “That’s a famous quote?” Parks asked.

  “By a guy named Publius Ovidius Naso Ovid. Yes.”

  “What was it again?”

  “‘Deadly poisons are concealed under sweet honey.’”

  “I want a copy of that printed and put up on the board next to Allison’s information. All right. Next? Three-one-three?”

  “Three-one-three, I think, is actually in reference to a Bible verse.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Wilkes cursed.

  “Which one?” Parks asked.

  “Romans. Chapter three, verse thirteen. ‘Their throats are open graves; their tongues practice deceit. The poison of vipers is on their lips.’”

  “He was killed by a poisonous snake,” Fairmont offered.

  Parks nodded at Tippin for him to continue.

  “Okay. Bollinger. The bread. Particularly the bread in the sink,” Tippin began. “‘People who treat other people as less than human must not be surprised when the bread they have cast on the waters comes floating back to them, poisoned.’ That was by James Baldwin.”

  “Print it up too,” Parks said nodding toward the murder board. “And last? The wine?”

  “‘Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape crush’d the sweet poison of misused wine.’”

  “Milton,” Parks said.

  “Yes,” Tippin confirmed. “So that’s it. At least that’s what I think.”

  “Strong possibility,” Parks said. “Something more than nothing. Thanks. Good work, Tippin. What does it mean, though? Something . . . or nothing? We should look into the meaning of the chosen quotes. Maybe there is a reason each one was picked. I mean, the first and last one have no special meanings besides describing the way in which the victims were killed. But the second one focuses on lies and deceit and the third one on being mean to others. Maybe our killer felt those two were liars and abusive, respectively. Something to check. But again, why? Just another way the killer leaves his mark on the scene? Possibly. Though I’m not sure why yet. Maybe he’s a former teacher or professor of literature or something. Another angle to check. There’s got to be a reason why he’s doing this. Fairmont?”

  “On it,” Fairmont said.

  “What about the photograph?” Wilkes asked.

  “We don’t know who these two girls in the picture are or what their connection to these murders is. Not sure how old this photo is either, but we’ll have CSA look over it,” Parks said.

  “We don’t have anything on it?” Wilkes asked. “You just spent the last six months in and out of schools, looking for Kozlov. Anything about these girls correlate anything you can remember from any of the schools? One of them is in a cheerleading uniform. We can’t see a name or mascot, but look at the colors on the top of her uniform. Red, gold, and black. Familiar at all?”

  Tippin raised his hand to speak, but Parks cut him off.

  “I spent the last six months looking for a man attacking elementary school-aged kids,” Parks explained. “These two girls are at least in high school. I’m not familiar with which one they come from.”

  “Fairfax High on Melrose,” Tippin interjected, not even bothering with raising his hand this time.

  “Say again?” Wilkes barked back.

  “Those colors? They’re Fairfax High’s colors. Crimson, gold, and black.”

  Wilkes opened his mouth to challenge the kid, but considering Tippin looked as if he had come from high school only a few months before, chances were he knew what he was talking about.

  “Then Fairfax it is.” Wilkes smiled slyly. “Have your kid and Hayward work on it. Hayward’s my best man when it comes to computers. Bet they can get online and look through past yearbook photos or something.”

  Parks looked to Tippin, who rolled his eyes but nodded, then looked to Hayward, who appeared amenable to the task.

  “Good. As for Oni, we do the usual,” Parks said. “Interview the next of kin. Family. Friends. Find the girlfriend and boyfriend, if he had both. Get them all in here. See if they noticed anything out of the ordinary recently. Maybe someone somewhere saw something. Same goes for the paparazzi. We question them as well. They’ll be more difficult, as they’re basically considered right there next to cockroaches in this town, but we have to just the same. Get what we can out of them. Any way we can. I don’t want to find out the identity of our killer because some sleazy paparazzi sold his photos to the highest bidder. Everyone with me?” There were murmurs and nodding but nothing more. “Actually, Wilkes, I know we just talked about your men going over this case from the beginning, but if you could have your team work on the paparazzi, that would be helpful.”

  “We’ll take care of it,” Wilkes grunted.

  Parks could tell by the man’s sagging shoulders and deep breathing how he felt about the extra workload they had just been given, but with Hardwick in the room there wasn’t anything he could say about it. Most likely Wilkes would retaliate at some time later, when Hardwick wasn’t around. Parks didn’t exactly like that idea, but as it was, his team was spread thin and everyone was worn out. He’d just have to see where the chips fell and deal with what was what from there. What he failed to realize was that Wilkes was actually charged for the first time since being assigned this case. He felt they had a solid lead to work on and he liked progress. Especially if it made him look good.

  “All right, everybody. Let’s get to work,” Parks said, dismissing the table.

  “Parks,” Hardwick called out.

  “Yes?”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but in light of keeping outside resources out of this mess as long as possible, I’ve asked for Dr. Black to take a look at the murder book and give us some insight as to who we should be looking at. Profile-wise, I mean.”

  Parks was surprised it had taken this long for Hardwick to involve the department shrink, considering he was the closest thing they had to a forensic profiler to help out with cases. As it was, Dr. Black was mostly around to make sure ev
eryone in the department was stable enough to handle a gun, but perhaps he could contribute something useful.

  “I’ll make sure he gets a copy of the murder book,” Parks said, smiling in agreement.

  “He already has one,” Hardwick said, turning from her lead detective. “He’ll be down in an hour to go over his notes with you.”

  23

  “He’s showing off,” Dr. Black said as he stood in front of the murder board, staring up at the physical evidence that was taped and tacked all over the white board. Dr. Lucas Black had been with the department for over a decade now, though physically he looked to be no older than his late thirties or early forties. He had wild, shaggy hair that gave him an earthy, inviting touch while also having the feel of professionalism. The glasses he was prescribed only added to his attractiveness, enlarging his already round, owl-like, hazel eyes.

  “He’s saying, ‘Look how good I am. You want to catch me? Then you better be better than me. Otherwise, you don’t deserve to catch me.’ He’s making a statement. Making himself feel better about what he’s doing so that if he’s ever caught he can say, ‘Look how good I was. It took a lot to catch me. I’m that good.’” Black had a gravely if not soothing quality to his voice that could either calm a person or drive them crazy, depending on whether they were a friend, co-worker or patient.

  “This guy’s sick,” was all Parks could think to say.

  “He’s made these murders into something of an art show for himself.”

  “How so?”

  “Look,” Black said, pointing to the various photos of the five murder scenes plastered up on the murder boards. “Take the first one. Allison Tisdale.”

  “Yes.”

  “All alone. In a solid-white room. The only other color in here is the purple flowers and the circle of the victim’s blood. That’s serious. This is a work of art. I bet you anything, both her blood and the flowers mean something.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Everything else in the room blends together. Blur your vision and look at this photo. The only thing you see is the bouquet of flowers in the center of a circle. That’s not by accident. This guy did that on purpose. Those flowers mean something. Everything he leaves behind, everything he takes with him, what he touches, what he does in this room, everything has one thing in common: our killer and the crime he committed. They all lead back to him. Why? To the killer himself, everything about this room serves a purpose. Why he chose this place. This room in the house. This victim. The dress she was found in. Why she was dressed as opposed to found nude. The flowers. Her hair. The scent of her. The poison he used to kill her. The chair she’s in. The pills found in her pockets. Everything. It’s all part of the reason he killed this victim the way he did and it all leads back to him.”