by Julie Cave
"I hope, for your sake, that the murderer didn't come from this studio," said Cage eventually. "Otherwise, I'm sure I'll find a way to make you criminally culpable."
"Have a nice day, Detective," said Srisai unpleasantly.
****
Ella Barnett waited until her father was seated comfortably in front of the television with a cup of tea before she went upstairs to her room and found the book she'd found him crying over in the attic. It was called The Lost Boys and the blurb on the back cover promised a disturbing true story.
She positioned herself in a chair where she could still see her father. She opened the archaic cover and began reading the autobiography. The first chapter began with the authors' early lives. Both had vague memories of their own families, but had lost their parents at an early age. Peter Kilpatrick's parents had perished in a house fire; he and his younger sister had been rescued by the fire department. He had been about six at the time. He had no relatives to care for him, so he and his sister were separated and each sent to an orphanage. Henry Black had been in a car accident at the age of seven, which claimed the lives of his parents and two older brothers. Similarly, he had no other relatives to care for him and was sent to an orphanage.
The boys met at the Albans Orphanage Asylum, a state-run facility on the northeast outskirts of Washington, DC. Their surroundings were foreign and austere, and when they became roommates, they became good friends.
Ella instantly felt compassion for these two young boys, grieving for their families and sent to a place completely unfamiliar to them. They weren't allowed to keep any photos or mementos of their old lives. They were not offered therapy or counseling. The wisdom of the day was that the sooner the boys forgot about their families, the better.
Their lives fell into a strict routine. They were up at five o'clock, when they were required to complete chores until six, whereupon they would have breakfast and a shower. School classes ran from seven until four, with a lunch break at noon. More chores and homework were to be completed between four and six p.m. Dinner was served at six thirty and lights were out at eight thirty. Sometimes the boys were allowed to watch television or play games after dinner.
Ella felt her compassion grow as she continued reading. There seemed to be little caring human interaction. The boys were never shown any love, empathy, or understanding. They were expected to follow the rules and keep noise to a minimum. Their emotional needs were completely ignored. It was like they had been sent to a prison for doing nothing more than having the misfortune of losing their parents.
Ella put the book down and tried to imagine what it would have been like to have a loving family ripped from you in a moment, then sent to live with strangers who didn't care if you were upset, grief-stricken, or lonely. She felt tears spring to her eyes just thinking about it. Who had been there to kiss a scraped knee, to care for a bruised heart, to listen to a wounded ego? Who had been there with open, welcoming arms and a warm smile? Who had been there to protect and defend each boy from the cold, harsh realities of the world? Who had taught them how to navigate the treacherous pathways and tributaries of life?
Ella decided she couldn't take much more of the book at the moment. It would be a story told in small doses. She had a feeling that it would only get worse the more she read of it.
She looked over to check on John Barnett and saw that he'd fallen asleep. He had been up late the night before, crying over this book in the attic and was exhausted. Ella pursed her lips as she looked at him. Why had this book upset him so?
Then something clicked. Peter and Henry were the authors of this book. Who had her father been obsessed with and agitated over the past few months? Peter and Henry! She recalled the episode in the supermarket where he'd found a boy whose name he'd been certain was Peter. Then there had been the incident in front of the house in her street, where her father had been yelling for Peter and Henry to come out.
Both instances had caused a great emotional response in John Barnett. But what was the connection between her kind, gentle father and these two lost boys? What had happened that could cause such an outpouring of emotion from the normally calm, staid John?
Ella thought about her childhood and tried to remember any occasion where their family had come into contact with Peter, Henry, or their families. She couldn't think of anything, unless it had always been a secret her father had kept. Yet it was so out of character for her father to be secretive or deceptive that Ella couldn't imagine the magnitude of the secret he could be keeping.
Why was his mind stuck on these two boys, who would forever be elementary school age in his deteriorating memory?
And why was John Barnett convinced that she would despise him if she found out the reasons behind these emotional outbursts?
****
Following the tense combativeness of their conversation with Srisai, both investigators felt the need to decompress. However, the case marched on, and they couldn't afford to relax.
Cage phoned Dr. Nelson Sharp from the car, asking if they could again visit to discuss the latest quote found on the body of Billy Atwood. The professor agreed, and Cage turned the car toward Georgetown University.
Dr. Sharp waited for them in his trendy office. Today he was dressed down, in skinny jeans and a tight-fitting polo shirt. Dinah couldn't remember having professors who were as cool and good-looking when she was in college.
Cage wasted no time, giving the professor the quote found on Billy Atwood's body. Dr. Sharp read it and nodded. "Yeah, this is a pretty famous quote," he said. "The founder of eugenics, Francis Galton, is responsible for this. I think he said it in the early part of the 20th century." He pulled off his glasses for a moment. "Under what circumstances did you find this quote?"
Without giving away too many details of the case, Cage gave him a brief rundown. Dr. Sharp nodded. "Well, that makes sense," he said. "This quote is often quoted by right-to-die advocates. Eugenicists particularly believe this to be true."
"It appears to be very pro-euthanasia," Dinah agreed. "However, it seems to me that it doesn't talk about allowing the sick, disabled, or dying to do it themselves; rather it seems to imply that we should do it to them."
Dr. Sharp smiled at Dinah. "That's very perceptive. Of course, eugenicists, by and large, are pro-euthanasia, but they take it a step further. They do believe that society should get rid of the defectives rather than waiting for nature to take its course. They believe that euthanasia should in many cases be involuntary. After all, not every person with a terminal or degenerative disease wants to commit suicide. Many eugenicists would prefer not to discuss it at all, and instead make it a requirement of the society in which we live."
"That would include a young man with Huntington's disease?" Cage asked grimly.
"Most certainly. You may remember a philosopher and eugenicist named Haeckel I mentioned last time you were here? He was the most famous Darwinist of his time. He supported the ancient Spartan practice of killing weak and sickly infants, and in one of his later works, he argued in favor of killing infants with congenital disabilities. He wrote that an infant with a mental or physical handicap ought to be killed with a dose of morphine or cyanide, which would free the baby's relatives from the burden of a long, worthless, and painful existence." Dr. Sharp shook his head. "His words, not mine."
Dinah was speechless with horror.
"Also, he quite vociferously supported assisted suicide," continued Dr. Sharp. "He called it self-redemption, arguing that we have the duty to end the suffering of fellow humans, just as we do for animals, from which we are no different. Most notably, he advocated killing people who suffered from mental illness, leprosy, cancer patients, and others with incurable illnesses. He suggested society could save much pain and money by administering an overdose of morphine. Notice I used the word 'killing,' because that's precisely what he suggested. He believed society should proactively kill those considered to be a waste of time and money. I'm not just talking about allowing those who w
ant to die the means to do it. Rather, he suggested society get rid of them without any consultation with the victims whatsoever."
"Were these views actually supported?" Cage asked.
"Certainly not all of the Darwinists and eugenicists of the day agreed with him," replied Dr. Sharp. "A vast majority of those who publicly pressed for abortion, infanticide, and euthanasia were fervently devoted to the Darwinist ideal, and therefore secretly supported the more extreme ideas of Haeckel — who as I mentioned was a famous Darwinist. A Nobel Prize–winning chemist by the name of Wolfsdorf suggested that caring for suffering family members is economically damaging and a waste of energy. Later, a female socialist named Oda Olberg agreed that society had the right to eliminate physical or moral sources of infection that might hinder its progress. She argued, in essence, that involuntary euthanasia became an act of self-defense and therefore quite necessary. She suggested that society stop looking at it as murder, and rather as an act of collective good."
"I can just imagine what they'd have thought of a palliative care home," murmured Cage, shaking his head.
Dr. Sharp agreed. "In their eyes, such a facility would be a colossal waste of money and resources. They would argue that the residents were going to die anyway — in many cases, a lingering and painful death. They would suggest that killing them sooner would be more merciful, but also more economical. Don't forget, this might sound progressive in theory, but those suffering terminal and degenerative illnesses weren't asked for their opinion or given an option."
"Does it stop there?" Dinah asked, actually feeling sick.
"No. The idea of involuntary euthanasia was extended to include moral characteristics," said Dr. Sharp. "At the time, morality was thought to be hereditary. Therefore, parents who displayed attributes such as selfishness, laziness, and dishonesty were likely to produce children who displayed the same characteristics. Thus, it was suggested that criminals ought to be eliminated by way of capital punishment, to prevent offenders from reproducing. It came to be that capital punishment was discussed for not just those who killed human beings, but those who displayed any sort of criminal behavior."
"So what do you think the message might have been behind this quote being left on the body of a young man suffering from Huntington's disease?" Cage asked.
"You haven't told me whether the death of this young man was murder or assisted suicide," said Dr. Sharp, "but a eugenicist wouldn't think there is much of a difference. I would think the message behind it would be that society has a duty to eliminate people in Billy's situation, under the guise of kindness and compassion, of course."
"What do modern-day eugenicists believe?" Cage asked.
"On the surface," replied Dr. Sharp, "they advocate a liberal agenda that is already mainstream — causes such as abortion, euthanasia, and selective reproduction. Privately, many of them also continue to support involuntary sterilization, involuntary euthanasia, restriction of immigration, and so on. You must remember that in order to be a eugenicist, you must also be an ardent believer in evolution. Eugenics is primarily concerned with the positive evolution of the human race. They also uphold ideals renouncing the sanctity of life, the equality of all men and women, and the concept of the human soul, all of which are Judeo-Christian in origin."
"Would it be feasible to think they might privately support the murder of individuals they consider to be defective?" Cage inquired. "If they believed it would be advancing the human race?"
"In the mind of a eugenicist, there isn't a difference between involuntary euthanasia and murder," said Dr. Sharp. "It's about the collective health of society. Individual rights pale in comparison, unless you happen to be young, fit, healthy, and rich."
"Do you think a eugenics group would support a member who is committing murder?" Cage asked.
Dr. Sharp inclined his head while he considered the question. "I don't know," he said, finally. "It depends on the extremism of the group. Theoretically, they could, if the murders correlate to their beliefs. Practically, whether they would is a different matter."
Dinah knew Cage was thinking of Edward Sable, and whether he was supported by the group he led. Could a conspiracy be so large? Edward Sable could, on the other hand, be a lone wolf, practicing his beliefs literally. After all, not every eugenicist in history had been comfortable with violence.
Dinah sighed in frustration. Their evidence pointing to Edward Sable was circumstantial at best and coincidental at worst.
How was it that the more they learned about the killer, the further they seemed to be from catching him?
Chapter 16
The killer arrived home from work in the late evening, his thoughts already turning to his next endeavor. He was a man of discipline, though, and although he wanted to begin his next task, his routine called for a training session.
He completed a training session every day. Every other day he would run for ten miles and fine tune his Muay Thai skills with the punching bag, viciously assaulting it with a variety of chops, punches, kicks, and strikes. The alternate day he would spend an hour doing weight training and muscle conditioning. He did so not with the aim to achieve bulk, but to maintain strength and power. Twice a week he would visit his Muay Thai instructor for a private, one-on-one hour-long session.
Today, it was the run and punching bag. With single-minded focus, he concentrated on his training. He was supremely fit and completed the run barely breaking a sweat. The punching bag absorbed a punishing flurry of kicks and punches.
Once he'd finished, he drank a protein shake and took a shower.
Finally, he sat down at his desk in his study and opened the Internet browser on his computer. He quickly typed the name Dinah Harris in the Google search engine.
A number of entries, posted in the majority by the news media, came up in the search results. The killer tried to sort them into some semblance of order chronologically and began reading.
He discovered that during her last case, the Smithsonian case, she'd been caught by a journalist in one instance arriving at a crime scene drunk, and on another occasion passing out in her car in the city morgue parking lot. Of these episodes, photos had been published in addition to other photos of her buying bottles of alcohol on a chilly winter night despite being assigned to an active case.
The accompanying articles were judgmental, to say the least. But all of them came to the same conclusion: Dinah Harris was an alcoholic.
The killer grinned a predatory smile to himself and continued to read.
He found that the downward spiral of Dinah Harris began upon the sudden deaths of her husband and son in a car accident. She'd gone back to work soon afterward to her job in the Violent Crimes/Violent Gangs department. She'd been a head negotiator extracting high-ranking gang members into witness protection. She'd arranged to meet a young male gang member and take him to a protective safe house. The meeting had not gone ahead for reasons unknown to the journalist, and the young man had paid for her mistake with his life; his gang seeking revenge for his betrayal.
An impressive FBI cover-up had whirred into action over the murder, refusing the release of any further details about why Dinah Harris had failed the young man. Speculation was rife that she had been drinking heavily at the time.
She had been demoted to a teaching and advisory role before she'd caught the Smithsonian case.
Prior to the problem in the violent gangs unit, Dinah Harris had been a bona fide FBI star. Apparently she'd found her calling negotiating with street-hardened young thugs for their information and inside secrets, in return for safety and redemption from the gang life. Her success rates were spectacular, and she'd managed to single-handedly inflict damage on many of the city's gangs. There were many news media articles relating to the arrests and convictions of violent gang leaders, attributed to Dinah Harris's ability to coax secrets out of the most unlikely sources.
In one rare instance, she'd given a quote to a television reporter, who'd asked her the secret to her success.
Dinah had replied, "I don't see them as hopeless, incorrigible animals who ought to be tossed away by society as no more than garbage. I see them as lost, lonely young men who have only ever wanted to feel like they belong to someone and something."
The killer almost laughed out loud. Dinah Harris, the crusader. She'd been on a mission to save gang members from themselves. And look what had happened. An ugly turn of fate, her family's lives suddenly snuffed out, and the crusader became human wreckage herself. The killer sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and wondered if it could be any more perfect. An alcoholic easily made the list of defective individuals, and Dinah Harris certainly fit the bill ideally. To make it even better, she was one of the investigators trying to track him down.
What sort of message would it send if he could kill — literally — two birds with one stone: an investigator hoping to put him in prison, and an alcoholic who was truly wasting space on this planet? He searched through his materials, searching for something that would describe his next victim.
He found it several minutes later.
It was a copy of legislation passed under Nazi Germany in 1933. It was titled Eugenics in the Service of Public Welfare. The killer found a marker and highlighted the section of the legislation that he particularly liked: the prevention of progeny with hereditary defects in cases of congenital mental defects, schizophrenia, manic-depressive psychosis, hereditary epilepsy, and severe alcoholism. The final two words, the killer circled in black.
A thought struck him. So far, he'd been leaving his messages on dead bodies. What if he sent this directly to Dinah Harris now, before he killed her?
The killer smiled and found an envelope.
****
Dr. Gene Schlabach again remained alone at the city morgue, working late on the autopsy of Billy Atwood. He glanced up from his work to acknowledge Dinah and Samson Cage. Billy's body seemed tiny and almost childlike on the steel table. The extent of his degenerative illness was obvious and it caused a wave of anger and sadness to wash over Dinah.