The Killing Hands

by P. D. Martin

  Darren knows that I usually worry about my parents’ disapproval of my profession, that it’s a stumbling point for us. We didn’t get much of a chance to talk about it during the forty-eight hours he spent in L.A., and my mum and dad have been within earshot during our more recent calls.

  “It was good actually. Really good. I found out some stuff about them, and they found out things about me.”

  “So not your regular visit?”

  “No, definitely not.” Normally I wouldn’t reveal something as private about Mum to anyone, but Darren and I have both experienced the loss of a loved one to violent crime, so I know he’ll understand. “They had to sedate my mum on the flight over here.”

  He makes a wincing noise.

  “I know.” I bite down hard on my bottom lip. “I realized she was worried about me, but I guess I never really thought about how it must be for her…after losing John.”

  “People don’t bounce back from that, Sophie.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.” But despite my flippant response, he’s right to emphasize the point with me. There’s a difference between knowing and really knowing.

  “I guess I never completely put myself in Mum’s shoes. I imagined, wondered even. But I didn’t think it through. Not properly.”

  “You were a kid, Sophie.”

  “When it happened, yes. But I’m not a kid now. It’s taken me nearly thirty years to realize what it must have done to her. And even then I think only another mother could truly understand what it’s like to lose a child.”

  Darren’s silent. I guess there’s not much to say.

  “They only told me about the sedatives a couple of days ago.”

  “Protecting you.”

  “Yeah.”

  Silence.

  “So what are you going to do?” he asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you staying in the Bureau? In law enforcement?”

  “Of course. In fact, Mum’s proud of me. Despite all the worry, all the digs, she respects what I do for other families, for other victims.”

  “Your mother is an amazing woman.”

  “I hate to think what you went through staying here with them.”

  He pauses. “I actually really enjoyed it, Soph. I liked getting to know your folks.”

  I grimace. Mum assured me she didn’t question Darren about his feelings for me, or make any hints in that direction, but I don’t trust her when it comes to my love life. Her desire for a wedding and a grandchild override what little tact she possesses.

  “They told me how proud they are of you. They really do respect what you do, Sophie.”

  “Yeah, I know that now.”

  “You must have been tempted to tell them about your visions.”

  “I nearly did. But I couldn’t do it in the end.”

  Darren is the only person who knows about my gift, and I want to keep it that way. I was extremely close to telling my parents about it last week, but each time I felt the urge, I chickened out.

  “So, what’s on for the rest of the night?” he asks.

  “TV or reading, then bed.”

  “What? Not working?”

  “Well, maybe…”

  “Have you had many visions about the case?”

  “Some. Not much this time. But I think the pain meds put my sixth sense on the fritz.”

  He laughs. “It makes sense. I guess they numbed everything.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

  “Well, don’t work too hard.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I very much doubt that.” I can tell from the tone in his voice that he’s smiling, dimples puckering.

  “Good night, Darren.”

  “Good night.”

  It’s 9:00 a.m. before I start work. I’ve allocated today for collating everything I need for the profile and Sunday for drafting the profile itself. Over the past few days I’ve added info to the other vics where possible, but I wanted to have one more look and confirm everything in my head before I put it down on paper. It’s not that I need to refresh my memory of the case. Despite my convalescence and the presence of my parents, I’ve found it difficult to think of much else. This case almost cost me and Ramos our lives—I’m going to find that needle in the haystack somehow.

  I’m finished for the day and cooking dinner when my landline rings. I pick up the phone.

  “Soph, it’s Mum. We’re home.”

  “Hi, Mum.” I look at my watch. Eight o’clock here, which makes it three o’clock in the afternoon in Melbourne. “How was your flight?”

  “The usual. Long and boring.”

  “I know what you mean,” I say. I haven’t flown home since I’ve been living in the US, but I remember the feeling—even with screens in the seat in front of you and loads of movies, after about six hours, not even halfway through the seventeen-hour journey, you’re over it.

  “We had a nap as soon as we arrived. Decided we’d wait and call you afterward.”

  “No worries. I was going to call you before I went to bed tonight if I hadn’t heard.”

  “Are you taking it easy?”

  “Yes, Mum.”

  “That’s great, honey. You need to look after yourself. And remember, the more you take it easy, the faster you’ll be back to one hundred percent.”

  “I know.” I sigh, still frustrated by my body’s healing process.

  “Any breaks on the case?”

  “Maybe. We might have a list of suspects, but it’s early days.” I trust my parents with my life, with anything, but there’s no need to go into any more detail. “I should know more soon.”

  “That sounds great, darling.” She says it with genuine enthusiasm.

  I’ll have to get used to this “new” Mum. I’m so used to her showing little or no interest in my work that it feels weird having her suddenly so supportive. I like her change in attitude, but it’s still taking me by surprise. “Is Dad around?”

  “Still asleep. I couldn’t wait to call you, though.”

  “I see.” I smile. Some things about Mum will never change…and that’s just the way I like it.

  “And what about Darren? Spoken to him recently?”

  “Mum, how many times do I have to tell you, he’s just a friend.”

  “He flew up to see you in hospital and rang you just about every day while we were staying with you, honey. You’re either lying to me or to yourself.” She pauses. “Besides, I saw the way you two looked at each other.”

  I take a breath. “Okay, okay. You’ve made your point. But he’s in Arizona, Mum.”

  “That’s only a two-hour flight. He said so himself.”

  “Mum…” I go for a light-hearted warning.

  “Yes, darling?” she responds innocently.

  “You know what, Mum.”

  “But he’s so lovely. And you’re lovely…”

  “So why can’t we be lovely together?”

  “Exactly! And you would be perfect for each other. He even understands about your job.”

  I sigh. “Where’s Dad when I need him?”

  “You can’t always rely on your father. And don’t think I didn’t know about your little deal while we were in L.A.”

  “Dad told you?”

  “I guessed.” She pauses for a quick intake of air. “Anyway, your father knows nothing about how important it is for a woman to find a man…before she’s too old.”

  “Mum! I’m only thirty-six.”

  “I was twenty-five when I married your father. By thirty-six I had two children of school age.”

  “Yes, Mum.” I change tack, going for the “yes, Mum, whatever you say, Mum” approach.

  “Don’t you ‘yes, Mum’ me, young lady.”

  I hold the mouthpiece away to let out an exaggerated sigh. This could be a long phone call. “Did you get to see any good movies?” Maybe a severe topic change will do the trick.

  “I watched two movies, including this heartb
reaking piece about a single woman in her forties.”

  “Is that even true, Mum? And I’m not in my forties!”

  “You will be in three and a half years.”

  “I think I liked you better when you were waiting on me hand and foot,” I joke.

  “I’m just telling it like it is.”

  I decide to try a few home truths myself. “Mum, I’d love to fall in love, to find a good man, but it just hasn’t happened for me yet.”

  “And Darren isn’t a contender?”

  I hesitate again, unsure how to field this question. Darren has lots of qualities I admire, that I’m attracted to, but there’s always been something in the way. When we first met I was seeing someone else, then I wasn’t ready for a relationship. I guess I’m ready now, but it feels like he’s so far away. “I’m not sure, Mum.”

  “How do you know if you don’t give him a chance, Soph?”

  I pause. “Mum, you’re making way too much sense for my liking.”

  “Uh-huh. There is something between you, Sophie. Anyone can see that.”

  “Okay, Mum. You’ve got me. But it’s not like it was when you and Dad met. You don’t find someone you like and get married.”

  “Oh, I know that, darling. What do you take me for, an idiot? I know I may be out of touch, but a date’s a start, yes?”

  I sigh again. “Yes.”

  “It’s New Year’s Eve in two nights’ time. Why don’t you pop down to Arizona for a couple of days?”

  “I can’t, Mum. You know I’m officially on call except during my holidays.” FBI agents are always on call, always have to be fit for duty. It’s one of the drawbacks of the job. Not that it bothers me, normally.

  “Then invite him up. I’m your mother and I know what’s best for you.” There’s a hint of humor in her voice, but only a hint. “Ring him. Now!”

  “Mum!”

  “Seriously, I’m hanging up now, but you ring him and invite him up. And if he’s not free for New Year’s Eve, there’s always his next days off.”

  “Inviting him up’s pretty serious, Mum.”

  “You afraid of rejection?”

  “No.” I know what Darren’s answer will be. He’s made his interest quite clear in the past.

  “When people are old they rarely regret the things they did, only the things they didn’t do. I’m hanging up now. Call him.”

  “Goodbye, Mum.” For a minute I think she’s really hung up already. But I should have known better.

  “You will call him, won’t you?”

  “Bye. Say hi to Dad.” I blow her a kiss down the line and hang up.

  Relationship advice from my mother is dubious at the best of times, but this time maybe it is good advice. I mean, Darren ticks all the right boxes for me—he’s kind and caring, he’s smart, he looks after himself, he’s a good communicator, I find him physically attractive and he understands the demands of the job. But despite all these positive points I manage to avoid calling him—maybe tomorrow.

  After a light walk in the morning, I spend Sunday drafting the profile.

  Sex: Male

  Age: Chronological: 30–60

  Emotional: 30–60

  Race: Asian

  Type of offender: Organized—well-planned murders, socially competent and controlled mood during crime. No evidence left at the crime scenes, in line with the standard MO for high-level contract killers.

  Occupation/employment: Full-time professional hit man.

  Probably does most of his hits for organized crime and other high-level, high-paying outfits.

  May also have a cover job, something he tells his family and friends he does as a living.

  Marital status: Married with children.

  Although we have very few studies on professional hit men, especially the upper echelons, we do know that these individuals are capable of complete compartmentalization. They kill for business—it’s their job. And so, just like any man in this age bracket, he’s more likely to be married with children…successfully living a double life.

  Dependents: Yes—see above.

  Childhood: Any violent behavior, even that as controlled as a hit man’s, is likely to be caused by exposure to violence at a young age—he accepts violence as normal. Our perp most likely experienced violence as a youth, maybe in the family or through childhood or adolescent friends who may have been involved in a violent world.

  Some contract killers see themselves as doing the “work of God,” stepping in where the justice system fails, so it’s possible our killer was also exposed to injustice of some description early on and feels the need to act as the executioner. His targets, mostly in the world of organized crime, can all be seen as “bad” men. Our killer will rationalize this to himself, believing they simply paid the price for their chosen actions.

  Personality: He will be a quiet individual, someone who others perceive as being polite, honest and hardworking. At the same time, no one really knows him. Those closest to him would feel this sense of distance, particularly his wife, who would feel like she doesn’t know her husband.

  He is also obsessively neat—most contract killers are highly methodical individuals with an overdeveloped sense of discipline. This is often partly due to a life in the military, a life where they could rationalize killing as serving their country. When they move from the military to the private world, their sense of life and death has become distorted.

  Disabilities: None

  Interaction with victims: While the perp “stalks” the victims, he does so purely for functional reasons, to get to know their routines and to find the best place to kill them. He has no actual interaction with his victims and feels no bonds or ties to them. Likewise, although he follows them for some time before taking action, he does not become curious about them or their lives.

  Notice all victims are male. This is probably more about the type of work he’s involved in (organized crime), but it’s also possible he refuses any contracts on women and children, particularly given his cultural background.

  Remorse: As a professional killer, our perp is unlikely to feel any remorse. He sees killing people as purely business, and doesn’t derive any pleasure from the killing process—other than a sense of professional pride. No pleasure, but also no guilt.

  Home life: At home, our perp would present like any normal businessman. He loves his wife and children, although he may be prone to jealousy. Given his own exposure to violence at a young age, it’s likely he’s trying to protect his family from this side of society—ironic given his profession. However, he’s able to completely separate his work and home life.

  I feel that our killer was able to channel any early anger through his kung fu, using this outlet growing up (given his current level of expertise, he would have had to start training as a youth and that would have helped him to channel and control his emotions). It’s possible he has anger-impulse control issues at home, although these are not displayed in any of the murders he commits. Like other martial arts, part of kung fu also addresses a more spiritual side—being centered and grounded. It’s quite possible he uses this training to curb any anger issues he may have.

  Car: Given the assumption that our killer lives overseas most of the time, probably in China, and flies around the world to fulfill his contracts, we cannot draw standard conclusions about the type of car he drives. Traditionally, cars in China were too expensive for most citizens, and while use is increasing rapidly at the moment, they’re still seen as status symbols.

  Note: In the US, we have 8,000 cars per 10,000 people, but in mainland China it hovers around 100 cars per 10,000 people.

  If he does own a car, he’d probably choose one of the most popular vehicles to blend in with his fellow citizens, despite his regular exposure to American and European cultures where cars are treated differently. The most popular makes in China are Volkswagen (Jetta, Santana and Sagitar), Buick Excelle, Toyota (Corolla and Camry) and Chery QQ (Chinese company). If our perp does own a car
, it’s likely he owns and drives one of these cars and given his likely nationalist leanings, the Chery QQ is the most probable. Intelligence: Moderate to high IQ (105–120) but with highly developed analytical and organizational skills, plus extremely well-developed social skills.

  Education level: High school only. This is largely culturally based, given that many Chinese people complete only the minimum of nine years of education. They generally start school around six or seven, so they leave around fifteen years of age.

  China also has compulsory military service, which he would have registered for and completed. He would also have served additional time in the military and received some education and training in this setting.

  Outward appearance: In keeping with our perp’s attention to detail and obsessively neat nature, his preferred style of dress would be immaculate and businesslike. His normal attire would be considered very dressy for the US—mostly suits—although he would also force himself to wear more casual clothes to fit in for each job (e.g., during the evening when there aren’t going to be as many people still in corporate clothing around the streets). He’s a master of disguise and acting, taking on different roles for different jobs. This may mean more casual attire; however, he would do this with a considerable amount of distaste.

  Criminal background: It is unlikely our perp has a criminal background—certainly nothing here in the US. He may have minor youth offences in China, but his organized and disciplined nature, coupled with his kung fu training, probably kept him out of trouble in his adolescence. Now his skills are at such a high level that he won’t come to the attention of law enforcement accidentally.

  Modus operandi (MO): Once the perp has accepted a contract, he will follow the victim, getting to know his routines. When he’s decided on a location, he’ll choose the best time and set himself up for the kill. His preference is to kill using his bare hands, combining regular kung fu strikes with dim mak or “death touch.” However, he can change the MO in line with any requests (as per the 2007 murder of Alexander Ivanovich).

  He is not aligned with any particular organization, rather he works in a freelance capacity.

  Signature: He’s not a signature killer in the traditional sense of the term—a serial killer who’s compelled to leave a victim or crime scene in a certain manner. However, his use of kung fu’s Ten Killing Hands in most of the kills is similar to a signature or a calling card.