Gallery of the Dead

by Chris Carter

  ‘You called it, buddy,’ Garcia said, nodding at his partner.

  ‘What?’ Kennedy asked.

  ‘Robert had a hunch that this killer had offended before,’ Captain Blake replied.

  ‘How many victims so far, Adrian?’ Hunter asked.

  Kennedy looked back at him and his reply was a simple head tilt accompanied by an eyebrow movement.

  ‘How many victims, Adrian?’ Hunter pushed, his voice calm albeit demanding.

  ‘I’m sorry, Detective.’ This time the reply came from Special Agent Fisher. ‘But that information is on a need-to-know basis and since this isn’t an LAPD investigation anymore, you don’t—’

  ‘Special Agent Fisher,’ Kennedy cut her short. ‘Why don’t you go get a coffee or something? I noticed they have a machine right at the end of the corridor. I’ll call you back in here when I need you.’

  Agent Fisher paused, her mouth semi-open in dismay.

  ‘But sir, I was just replying to—’

  ‘Outside, Agent Fisher.’ Kennedy’s hoarse voice seemed to gain a new depth. ‘I’ll call you back in here when I need you.’

  ‘Ooooohh,’ Garcia said playfully. ‘Someone just got handed the keys to the dog-house.’

  Agent Fisher faced him while pretending to scratch the tip of her nose with her right middle finger.

  Garcia winked back at her. ‘That’s cute. Did you learn that at the FBI Academy?’

  As she exited the office, Agent Fisher had to call on all her willpower not to slam the door behind her.

  ‘How many murders so far, Adrian?’ Hunter asked one more time.

  ‘I was harsh on her, Robert,’ Kennedy replied. ‘But Special Agent Fisher was right, and you know it. That sort of information is on a need-to-know basis and, officially, this investigation doesn’t belong to the LAPD anymore.’

  ‘Hey, wait a second there,’ Captain Blake cut in. ‘How about a little professional courtesy, huh? You guys want us to hand over everything we’ve got on this investigation so far, right? How about you guys give us a little before taking everything?’

  Kennedy peeked first at Special Agent Williams and then at the picture board. For a moment he looked deep in thought.

  ‘OK, I guess that’s fair,’ he finally replied. ‘But I have a better proposal.’ The pause that followed was clearly deliberate and Hunter could already guess what was coming next. That was why he refrained from asking the obvious question, unlike Captain Blake.

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘Why don’t the FBI and the LAPD join forces on this one?’

  ‘Excuse me, sir?’ The surprise in Special Agent Williams’ voice was almost tangible.

  ‘Remember when I told you that The Surgeon might’ve just made his first and worst mistake?’

  ‘Yes?’

  Kennedy’s chin jerked in Hunter’s direction. ‘That’s his mistake right there.’

  ‘The Surgeon?’ Garcia asked, frowning at Hunter. ‘Mistake . . . ? What . . . ?’

  ‘Sorry, sir,’ Agent Williams said. ‘But I don’t follow either.’

  ‘The Surgeon’s last victim was murdered inside Los Angeles,’ Kennedy explained. ‘Which obviously falls under LAPD jurisdiction. And because he used excessive violence,’ he indicated the board, ‘the investigation was automatically assigned to the LAPD’s Ultra Violent Crimes Unit, which is headed by Detective Hunter.’

  ‘Yes . . . so?’ Agent Williams still looked puzzled.

  ‘Well, Robert Hunter is the best criminal profiler I’ve ever worked with,’ Kennedy said. ‘He’s the best criminal profiler the FBI has never had. I’ve tried to recruit him into the NCAVC so many times I’ve lost count.’

  ‘And flattery won’t get you there this time either, Adrian,’ Hunter said.

  ‘But that’s the thing, Robert,’ Kennedy replied. ‘I’m not trying to recruit you, not this time. What I’m offering here is a joint effort between the FBI’s NCAVC and the LAPD’s UVC Unit. This is not a job offer. You will not become an FBI agent. You’ll still be an LAPD detective, but you’ll gain nationwide jurisdiction for the entire length of the investigation. What I’m offering you here is a chance to stay in this investigation and to catch this sick freak.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Agent Williams said. ‘I don’t mean to interrupt, but bringing outside help into this investigation isn’t necessary. I respect Detective Hunter’s work. I really do. I read his book and all, but if I may speak frankly, he doesn’t have the training or the ability for something of this magnitude. He’s just a PD detective and all he’ll do is slow us down.’ He looked at Hunter. ‘No offense.’

  ‘None taken,’ Hunter replied.

  ‘Well, I got offended,’ Garcia cut in, raising a hand. ‘Just a PD detective . . . ?’

  Kennedy lifted his right index finger to silence them for a minute. ‘What do you say, Robert?’

  Hunter stayed quiet.

  ‘I know you, old buddy,’ Kennedy pushed. ‘I know that when you sink your teeth into a case, especially when it’s something as intriguing as this, you just can’t let go that easily.’ He paused again, studying Hunter. ‘I want you on this case, Robert. That’s the reason why I’m here. I didn’t fly all this way just to tell you that the FBI was taking over your investigation. I came here because I wanted to talk to you person to person and because I am the only one who can make this happen. I can make it official in less than fifteen minutes. All you’ve got to do is say the word.’

  Hunter kept his eyes on Kennedy but his mind took him back to just a few hours ago, when he had been sitting face to face with Emily Parker, Linda Parker’s mother. As Hunter was getting up to leave, Mrs. Parker had reached out and placed a trembling hand on his shoulder.

  ‘Detective,’ she said in a voice strangled by tears. ‘Please promise me that you will catch him. Please promise me that you will make this sonofabitch pay for what he’s done to my daughter. She was my only child.’ With those words, Emily Parker broke down in sobs again.

  ‘We’ll do all we can to bring the person responsible for your daughter’s death to justice, Mrs. Parker,’ Hunter replied.

  ‘No,’ Emily Parker came back, her voice angry. ‘That’s not good enough, Detective. I don’t want to hear the kind of crap you feed the six o’clock news reporters. You can save that bullshit for the press. I want your personal promise that you will catch this sonofabitch. That you won’t rest until this sick freak is behind bars. Promise me, Detective. Promise me.’

  Hunter wasn’t one to promise anything he wasn’t absolutely sure he could deliver, but right then he knew that Emily Parker was hurting in a way she’d never hurt before, and all she was really after was some reassurance that the people tasked with catching her daughter’s killer would not give up on her. Hunter phrased his answer the best way he could without having to lie.

  ‘Mrs. Parker, I give you my word that I won’t rest until the person who took your daughter from you is behind bars. That I can promise you.’

  The conviction in Hunter’s voice brought a new barrage of tears to Mrs. Parker’s eyes.

  ‘How many victims, Adrian?’ Hunter asked again.

  Kennedy could sense that Hunter was on the brink of giving in. It was only fair that he conceded some ground as well.

  ‘This is his third victim,’ Kennedy finally replied.

  Hunter and Garcia exchanged a concerned look.

  ‘Where were the others located?’ Garcia this time. ‘We know they weren’t in LA, probably not even in California, so where has this guy struck before?’

  Kennedy faced him.

  ‘Sir, please,’ Agent Williams intervened. ‘We really don’t need any help here.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Garcia addressed the agent. ‘We’re just mere PD detectives, right? All we’re going to do is slow you guys down.’

  ‘What do you mean “we”?’ Agent Williams replied, trying to suppress a sarcastic chuckle. ‘Did you think that Director Kennedy was talking to you too?’

&
nbsp; Hunter questioned Kennedy with a simple stare.

  Kennedy nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Robert, but Special Agent Williams is right. The offer for a joint operation is extended only to you.’

  ‘You have got to be kidding me,’ Garcia said in disbelief.

  Hunter signaled his partner to give him a moment. ‘That’s not what you said, Adrian.’

  ‘What do you mean? I never said anything about your partner.’

  ‘Yes, you did.’

  ‘What?’ Agent Williams intervened again. ‘When?’

  Hunter was still addressing Kennedy. ‘You proposed a joint operation between the NCAVC and the LAPD’s UVC Unit, right? Those were your words. Well, Detective Garcia and I are the LAPD’s UVC Unit, not me by myself. The only reason why this unit has the reputation it has, is because we work together.’ Hunter’s turn to pause for effect. ‘So if you want this joint operation to go ahead, Adrian, you better make room for the two of us.’

  Kennedy hesitated for a moment and Agent Williams took over one more time.

  ‘Well that’s just not going to happen, is it? If you think—’

  ‘Special Agent Williams,’ Kennedy stopped him. This time the gravel in his voice was coated with annoyance. ‘If you interrupt me one more time, you’ll be removed from this investigation and on a plane back to Quantico in the next hour, am I clear?’

  ‘But sir!’

  ‘Am I clear, Special Agent Williams?’

  Agent Williams looked down at his shoes like a schoolboy who’d just been severely reprimanded.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Maybe you should borrow the dog-house keys from your partner,’ Garcia said.

  ‘Detective Garcia,’ Kennedy said, his whole demeanor booming with authority. ‘If you are to be part of this operation, you will have to tone that sarcasm of yours way, way down.’

  Garcia was about to come out with a new dig, but he caught a glimpse of the way Hunter and Captain Blake were looking at him.

  ‘OK,’ he finally conceded. ‘I think I can do that. No problem.’

  Kennedy readdressed Hunter. ‘So you’re in?’

  Hunter peeked at his partner.

  Garcia nodded once. ‘Oh, I’m definitely in. I want to catch this sicko.’

  ‘This will be a joint operation,’ Hunter told Kennedy. ‘The NCAVC and the UVC Unit will have equal levels of authority, command and clearance throughout the investigation. No one keeps anything from anyone.’ His stare moved to Agent Williams. ‘This is not a competition. We’re all after the same end result. Can you work with that?’

  Agent Williams took a deep breath to steady himself. ‘Yes, I can work with that.’

  ‘Carlos?’

  ‘Yes, of course. I have absolutely no problem with that.’

  Hunter looked at Linda Parker’s skinned body photographs pinned to the picture board.

  ‘OK, Adrian, we’re in. You’ve got your joint operation.’

  Twenty-Eight

  ‘What?’ Special Agent Fisher said once she was allowed back into Hunter and Garcia’s office. The look on her face was as if the world had turned upside down during her absence. ‘A joint operation?’ Her stare sought Agent Williams for help, but all he could do was shrug.

  ‘That’s right, Special Agent Fisher,’ Kennedy confirmed.

  ‘But sir, that’s absolutely unnecessary. We have this whole investigation under contr—’

  ‘Special Agent Fisher,’ Kennedy stopped her yet again. This time he sounded angry. ‘We’re not going to keep on doing this and if you are to stand a prayer of being a part of this operation, you better snap out of this superior attitude of yours, and you better do it pronto, do you understand me?’

  Agent Fisher looked like she was about to breathe out fire.

  ‘If I hear that even a single second of this investigation has been jeopardized due to your attitude, you’ll be stuck with office work for the rest of your FBI career. Have I made myself clear?’

  Agent Fisher’s stare went from Kennedy to Agent Williams, to Hunter and finally back to Kennedy.

  ‘Have I made myself clear, Special Agent Fisher?’ Kennedy’s voice was resolute.

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she replied with a nod. ‘Crystal. You’ll get no problems from me.’

  Garcia was about to let fly a new sarcastic comment when Hunter gave him an almost imperceptible headshake.

  ‘OK,’ Kennedy said, addressing his agents and positioning himself behind Hunter’s desk. ‘Now that we’re all in agreement, how about we get everybody up to speed on what we’ve got so far?’

  ‘That’d be a good start,’ Garcia said.

  Kennedy nodded at Special Agent Williams, who retrieved a blue file from the briefcase he had brought with him.

  Kennedy stepped back from the desk, as if to give everyone more space.

  ‘OK,’ Agent Williams began. ‘The Surgeon first came to our attention a little over two months ago, on February fifteenth to be exact.’

  ‘The Surgeon?’ Garcia asked.

  ‘That’s the moniker the FBI is using on this creep,’ Agent Williams explained. ‘The reason, I think, is pretty obvious.’ He indicated the board. ‘But I’ll get there in time, anyway.’

  From the blue file, Agent Fisher obtained an eleven-by eight-inch colored portrait of a woman and placed it on Hunter’s desk.

  ‘The Surgeon’s first victim was Kristine Rivers, a twenty-year-old college student from Wayne State University in Detroit.’

  Hunter, Garcia and Captain Blake stepped closer to examine the photograph. As they did, Hunter felt an uncomfortable knot begin to tie itself up at the back of his throat. Though the girl in the photo looked to be no older than seventeen, she reminded Hunter of Professor Tracy Adams. Her gentle heart-shaped face was stylishly framed by long red hair. Her almond-shaped eyes were blue and they seemed to carry a naive sparkle in them. Her lips were full and adorned by a deep red lipstick. Her nose was pointy but delicate, and her cheekbones were prominent and smooth-curved.

  ‘Miss Rivers was born and raised in Hamilton, Ohio,’ Agent Williams continued. ‘Where her family still lives. She was accepted into law school at Wayne State two years ago.’ He flipped a page on the file he was reading. ‘Miss Rivers shared a small apartment, located on the outskirts of the university campus, with two other sophomore law students: Susan Temple, also twenty years old and from Michigan, and Rosanna Rodriguez, twenty-one years old from Iowa. On the night of February thirteenth or morning of the fourteenth, Miss Rivers failed to come back home from her waitressing job in an All-American Diner in Springwells Village.’

  ‘Springwells Village is about three miles from where she lived,’ Agent Fisher added.

  ‘How did she usually get home from work?’ Garcia asked. ‘Did she walk?’

  ‘No, she took the bus,’ Agent Fisher replied. ‘We checked all the buses’ CCTV footage, talked to all the drivers who had worked that route that night – nothing. It doesn’t seem like Miss Rivers ever boarded the bus home.’

  ‘What time did she finish work?’ Garcia again.

  ‘The Diner closed at half past midnight,’ Agent Williams answered. ‘According to everyone who was working that night, Miss Rivers left, by herself, ten to fifteen minutes after closing time. No one noticed her talking to anyone in particular, either. No customers or anyone else who could’ve invited her out once her shift was over. In fact, some of them were grabbing a beer after work, but Miss Rivers said that she needed to get home because she had class early the next morning.’

  ‘How far away was the bus stop from the diner?’

  ‘About a block away, and before you ask, there were no CCTV cameras anywhere on that stretch.’

  Agent Williams paused and waited for any more questions. None were forthcoming, so he finally carried on with his accounts.

  ‘The next morning, Miss Rivers’ body was discovered by Detroit PD inside an abandoned wooden shed on the banks of the Detroit River, not that far from the university campus.’ H
e retrieved four new photographs from his blue file, placing them all on Hunter’s desk. ‘And this was how she was found.’

  ‘What the hell?’ Garcia said. His surprise was mirrored on Hunter’s and Captain Blake’s faces.

  ‘Yeah, exactly,’ Agent Williams replied.

  Twenty-Nine

  ‘Shhhhh,’ the man whispered as he stared straight into Timothy Davis’s eyes. His tone of voice was comforting and reassuring. ‘It will be OK, Tim. It will all be OK now. Trust me.’

  Timothy blinked once . . . twice . . . three times. The movement was slow and lethargic and though his eyes were still open they were fading fast. The images they registered came in blurry and distorted, as if he were looking at the world through a thick sheet of plastic.

  His ears weren’t doing much better, either. Though he could still hear the man’s voice, the words he spoke failed to make much sense, not because they were incoherent or spoken too softly, but because Timothy’s brain, now starved of blood, lacked the capacity to understand them.

  The man took a step back and grabbed a lungful of soiled air. It had been a very slow-moving and difficult couple of hours, especially because this had been the first ever time that the man had tried anything like this. The procedure had been a lot harder and taken a lot longer than he had anticipated, but it was all paying off with dividends.

  The man had to admit that he’d had his doubts. When he’d first come up with the concept for Timothy Davis, he wasn’t sure it would actually work, and because there was absolutely no way he could test the procedure beforehand, doubts had begun creeping up on him, so much so that the man had considered using a completely different method to achieve what he had set out to achieve. A method that would’ve been almost impossible to properly keep under control. But now he was glad that he had stuck with his original plan. In the man’s eyes, what he had just done was a masterpiece – a work of pure art – and he still wasn’t done yet. For his concept to be absolutely perfect, there were still a couple of finishing touches he had to add, but there was no rush. The man knew that he had all the time in the world, so for a moment he allowed himself to indulge in his own self-glorifying ecstasy.