With a groan, Nicole’s partner moved off. Nicole had hoped perhaps Bridget would follow Ruben, however clearly she did not care about the paperwork portion of the job.
“Well” Bridget pressed. “Are we leaving or what?”
Nicole didn’t want to admit that she didn’t have a car.
“Why don’t we ride over together?” Nicole suggested.
Bridget nearly peed her pants. To have a detective all to herself in the news van? It seemed like a wet dream to the TV host.
“And we can conduct a one-on-one interview about what it’s like to work with such a savant,” Bridget announced excitedly.
For joy.
* * *
Kent sat down in the comfy chair in the lab as the techs got their presentation ready. This was going to be a long one.
“Alright, now that we know Marion isn’t our guy,” Jimmi stated, “I assume you want to look back over the cable truck video?”
That might seem like the logical course of action, but Kent seldom followed conventional wisdom. Marion had been a pawn. He had been led by the nose to the city so that Buzz Kill could set him up for the murders. He was simply a patsy. On the surface he looked like a great suspect. Once you scratched the surface at all, his guilt looked as hollow as a donut.
Buzz Kill wanted him to focus on the cable van, so guess what? It was the last thing he was interested in right now.
“No,” Kent stated. “Time for Joshua to pull his weight.”
The young morgue attendant sat up straighter, his fingers hovering over his keyboard.
“That necklace was the cause of the first murder,” Kent explained. “The chain-sawing just evolved from that.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Joshua said, nodding vigorously. “I have been climbing the genealogy tree, but I can’t find anyone so far that would have had claim to the necklace who also might kill for it. So far a bunch of Judo moms and one cross-dresser, but that’s it. No one more sinister than that.”
“Keep pushing,” Kent said.
“No worries. I’ve got an algorithm scanning all birth and death records now. I should have a full twenty branch tree, within the hour.”
Kent nodded. Joshua better or he was going to lose his Kent cell phone privileges and Joshua liked nothing better than to call Kent at all hours of the night.
“Jimmi back to you, but not the cable van footage. We need to go further back than that. I want to know every single person who was at each crime scene.”
“Well, besides police,” Jimmi started to say, but Kent interrupted him.
“No. Including police,” Kent clarified. He needed to look at Buzz Kill with all new eyes. Framing someone as well as Buzz Kill had framed Marion took some pretty exceptional skill and patience. Something a person in the law enforcement industry might have. It wouldn’t be the first time a cop had gone over to the dark side.
Jimmi frowned but complied. He brought up a split screen. Each individual frame had the crime scene log for each murder. Jimmi had highlighted the signatures with a hue of the color spectrum. Kent’s was in dark blue. His signature highlighted across the different crime scenes. The boys really liked their multimedia presentations.
“The police that were consistent are you, Usher, Torres, Glick and Tandy.”
“Tandy?” Kent questioned.
“Yeah, the crime scene officer,” Jimmi replied.
“Can you calculate the odds of Tandy being the officer on all murders just by coincidence?”
Jimmi didn’t type anything. “The guy is as stand up as you could get. Tandy is not our guy.”
“Yet strangely I asked for a statistic, not your opinion.”
“Ya,” Joshua emphasized. Kent gave a single look and Joshua went back to his work on the genealogy tree.
Jimmi spun around in his chair as his fingers flew over the keys. “This isn’t New York. We have a fairly light, skeleton crew on the late shift which Tandy works so the odds are… Seventy nine point eight six percent he would pull all of these crime scenes.”
Damn it. Another suspect ruled out. They had gotten good at that. Ruling suspects out, not so much about finding them. Kent leaned back in his chair. “We had to be sure.”
Kent squinted at Jimmi’s elaborate crime scene chart extravaganza. “Pull up all non-cops who attended the crime scene. After we clear one, drop it from the roster.”
Jimmi complied. Now that all the cops were off, there were only a few names that cut across the entire spectrum of crime scenes. The usual suspects like Joshua the morgue attendant. A few CSIs. A crime reporter.
Then a name jumped off the list as the others were cleared
Bridget.
What the hell was she doing there?
“She was at all the crime scenes?” Kent asked for clarification.
“Yeppers. I mean, she is reporting on the cases.”
“Yes, but why the first one?” Kent demanded. “Why was she even in town then? I thought she only officially came on board on this case after the second murder?”
Jimmi shrugged. “She said she was doing research.”
“Really? She came to our non-top 5 media markets to look for crime?”
“She said she was researching you,” Joshua said. “Waiting for your next big case.”
Kent leaned forward in his chair, making the old shocks creak. “Doesn’t that sound a little convenient? A carefully crafted excuse?”
Jimmi looked to Joshua then back to Kent. “Not really.”
A theory was beginning to form. Bridget wouldn’t be the first newscaster to create a little news of her own. But was she capable of it?
“I need everything you have on Bridget brought up.”
“Um, that’s like a lot,” Jimmi said. The tech was right. Pages and pages of search results came up.
“Focus on her childhood then,” Kent suggested.
Jimmi typed a few commands in and the number of articles reduced dramatically. Kent scanned the headlines. It was all confirmed what he already suspected about Bridget.
“Send the top five to my phone.”
“Your phone or Glick’s?”
Kent just gave Jimmi that look. Glick’s of course. The stolen phone dinged with the information.
Kent scanned it quickly. It held all the info he needed.
Just then the door burst open and Bridget, along with her crew and Nicole walked in.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” Kent stated.
CHAPTER 13
Nicole stopped in her tracks. Something was wrong. Really wrong. When Kent invited a newscaster into the room, it spelled disaster.
Jimmi and Joshua had that look on their face like right before Kent did something crazy. It was an odd mix of horror and admiration. And there was that glint in Kent’s eye.
This wasn’t going to be pretty. She had no idea what was going to be ugly, but it was something and it was soon.
Nicole couldn’t allow a media nightmare to unfold. Glick would kill her.
“So what’s going on?” Nicole asked very pointedly to her fiancée.
The profiler had that angelic look about him. There was definitely trouble brewing.
“Nothing much,” Kent stated rolling his chair back and rising.
If something got him out of his chair Nicole was thinking it was more “much” than “nothing.”
Bridget however was not as well versed in the Kent code as Nicole and took the bait. Walking forward, pointing her microphone at the profiler.
“Please, catch us up on the latest developments,” the TV host encouraged.
Kent got that smirk. Nicole was just glad it wasn’t aimed at her.
“Well,” Kent said sounding oh so helpful. Couldn’t Bridget see Kent was up to something? The profiler was never this forthcoming. “We’ve found a new suspect. Someone who was at all the crime scenes and does not have an alibi for the murder time frame.”
“And this would be?” Bridget asked, nearly drooling over the scoop she
was about to get. You could see the “screw you Katie look on her face.”
“You,” Kent said in that singsong voice he got just before he eviscerated you.
Bridget took a step back, wobbling a bit on her high heels. “Me?” she squeaked.
“Oh please, don’t look so surprised. You knew you’d make the list eventually.”
“I don’t… I…” Bridget looked to her crew. “Tell them. Tell them I was with you, working on the footage.”
Bridget’s producer shrugged. “The logs are the logs Bridget. You were gone for hours at a time ‘doing research.’”
The TV host’s cheek drew a bright red. Guess you should have treated your crew better, Nicole thought. Karma was such a bitch. Nicole was mildly surprised that Kent had accused Bridget, but she could tell there was something more. Something even deeper than accusing her of being Buzz Kill. What could be worse than accusing her of that? The profiler was angling for something. Something deep and dark and private. And knowing Kent, he wouldn’t stop until he found it.
“Do you really want to do this typical perp “I’m innocent” dance or get to the real heart of the matter?” Kent questioned.
“I am not Buzz Kill,” Bridget hissed.
“Maybe, maybe not, but you’ve got a secret,” Kent insisted.
Bridget pulled up to her full height, towering over the rest of them. “I live my life on camera.”
Which Nicole noted was not a denial per se. People were so fascinating. They told you everything if you just knew how to listen.
Kent, seemingly not intimidated in the least by the tall host, continued. “Maybe now, but in your youth? Back when you were diagnosed as a psychopath?”
Nicole watched the scene unfold very carefully. Behind Bridget her crew’s eyes opened wide and there were sharp intakes of breath. Bridget however didn’t move. She just kept breathing steadily. Her body actually relaxed as if the revelation took a burden off of her.
“You’re a smart one,” Bridget said in perfect conversational tone to Kent. “Perhaps even living up to your reputation which is surprising. Most people disappoint in person.”
Kent just smiled. He knew exactly how good he was. He went to continue but the shorter woman stepped forward.
“But, but…” her producer said. “She’s charismatic, how can she be charismatic and be a psychopath?”
Kent waved the brunette’s concerns away. “Simply because psychopaths do not have any true empathy and remorse doesn’t mean they can’t fake it. Bundy, HH Holmes, and many more were charming as could be while still having a dead heart.”
“Are you getting all of this?” Bridget asked the cameraman. He nodded up and down, making the red light on his camera blink. That was the TV host always thinking of her fans.
“But Bridget actually learned her charm didn’t you?” Kent asked. “Upon your diagnosis your parents panicked and put you into group therapy. The worst possible decision they could have made.”
Bridget only touched her knuckle to the corner of her eye, keeping her mascara from smearing.
“Why was it the worst mistake?” Nicole asked. She’d never heard that before.
Kent sat back down in his chair. “It is the perfect training ground for psychopaths to learn how to fake emotion,” he explained.
“How did you figure it out?” Bridget asked.
“Oh please, like I didn’t spot you right off at the crime scene,” Kent said with a wave of his hand.
Nicole reviewed every time she had been around Kent and Bridget. She was slowly starting to put the pieces together. “You sent Bridget into the carousel to see how she reacted?”
Kent nodded. “You were good, I have to admit, Bridget.” Kent continued. “You looked physically repulsed by the carnage and sincerely nauseated, but you held your belly too low. If you truly were sick, you would have held it up higher and to the left. You were acting out appendicitis pain.”
Bridget didn’t argue.
* * *
Joshua was trying to keep his excitement in check. To have two of his favorite people going at it was like a kid’s first trip to the circus, you know, before he realized the elephants were abused and the bearded lady was a fake.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nicole asked Kent.
That was a completely valid question in Joshua’s mind. Kent did let a psychopath run around with them for days.
“Why would I?” Kent retorted. “One in a thousand is a psychopath. I would be blurting that out a lot if I had to report each time I spotted one.”
One in a thousand? Dang that was a lot of psychopaths.
“Just because one is a psychopath does not make one a killer,” Bridget said seeming to regroup.
Kent chuckled. Joshua liked it when Kent chuckled. It made him feel safe. If you were going to be in a room with a psychopath, you really wanted your FBI agent relaxed enough to chuckle.
“No, it doesn’t,” Kent agreed. “Only one in one hundred psychopaths are criminals and only one in ten thousand of those is a killer.”
“So that’s… one in a million is a psycho killer?” Joshua confirmed.
Kent nodded. “Now on wall street, one out of every ten executives are psychopaths. Surgeons. Let’s just say a lot of them. Military brass, again, another hot spot.” Kent rose and walked around Bridget. “Oh but, you my dear are a piece of work. You are that one in a million.”
Bridget got a smirk before she responded. “Prove it.”
“Oh, I won’t have to, you’re going to tell me all about it,” Kent insisted.
Bridget’s smirk left her face. “I am not Buzz Kill.”
Joshua’s computer chimed. He couldn’t believe the name on the screen. The results of the in-depth genealogy search had produced a singular name. Bridget Fairweather.
“How surprising,” Kent said without looking at the screen. “Bridget was related to Tanya.”
Joshua gulped. “Yes.”
“What are you talking about?” Bridget demanded.
Kent indicated to Bridget’s lapel. “That triple lion pin you wear, it’s Henry the 8th’s crest.”
“So what of it?”
“You were also heir to the Boleyn necklace.”
“What are you talking about?” the TV host asked.
It seemed that Bridget was genuinely irritated and didn’t know what Kent was talking about.
“Tell me who you have killed or you will go down as a money scheming witch who killed for money, not for the satisfaction.”
The TV host’s eyes narrowed. He loved it when Bridget did that. It was usually when she was interviewing someone who was holding back. Just like Kent she’d go for the jugular in those situations. It must have felt weird to be on the receiving end of that stick.
“What makes you so sure I’ve killed?” Bridget demanded of the profiler.
“Because you seem content. The only time psychopaths are content is when they are fulfilling their psychopathy,” Kent responded.
“I’m not going to make it that easy for you.”
Kent smiled though, leaning far back in his chair. “Yes, you are.”
Bridget shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly not understanding where Kent was going with this. Joshua didn’t know either, but hey, he seldom did. And who cared? The ride was just so fun.
He nudged Jimmi and nodded to the drawer. Carefully the tech pulled it open and grabbed a big bag of caramel popcorn that they had been saving for just such an occasion.
Bridget crossed her arms. “No, I’m not.”
Kent’s smile never wavered. “Bridget, you’re smart enough to follow all of this through. How is it going to play out?”
Joshua didn’t think the TV anchor realized she bit her lower lip. Apparently psychopaths could feel some anxiety. Maybe not fear, but at the least confusion and concern.
“I know you’ve killed Bridget. I’m going to find your victims,” Kent said as he stood up and dragged his finger along the desk. “You�
�re going to lose your job and be imprisoned. Your only concern now should be your legacy.”
Bridget frowned.
“You have built an empire,” Kent stated. “Do you want to go out with a whimper or a bang?”
Joshua could practically see the wheels turning inside of Bridget’s mind. Her image was important to her. That was clear.
“What do you suggest?” Bridget asked.
“You confess and I guarantee you a full hour interview with me on how I caught you.”
Bridget’s eyes narrowed again. “I will get to host my own episode?”
Kent shrugged. “I can’t say what your network will do, but I can promise to give you the interview. What you do with it after that is your problem.”
“I am not Buzz Kill,” she repeated.
“Then prove it,” Kent challenged.
There was a moment of silence as Bridget’s eyes scanned the room. It looked like she was trying to gauge everyone’s response. Who believed Kent and who didn’t?
She went to smooth her dress, only she didn’t smooth her dress. Instead she pulled a knife and flung it at her cameraman square in the chest, just below his camera, then grabbed her producer and sinking a blade into her back.
* * *
Everyone else gasped except Kent. Why was everyone so surprised by serial killers? They were, well, killers…
Nicole and Ruben were up, guns pointed at Bridget.
“Let her go,” Nicole demanded.
“Oh my dear, I can’t…” Bridget stated. “My knife has cut through the renal artery. If I remove the blade she will bleed out in twenty heartbeats.”
The cameraman was on the floor, yet propped himself up to film the proceedings, even though he had a knife in his chest. Bright red blood streaked down his grey T-shirt. The blade bounced with every heartbeat. He wasn’t going to make it once the knife was pulled out either.
Ruben was busy calling for back-up and ambulances. It was useless but that was Ruben for you. Bridget had gotten the drop on them. It happened. There wasn’t much else they could do. Kent didn’t have enough on her to arrest her. Until she threw that blade she was just a person of interest that they couldn’t do anything to.
The Harbinger Collection: Hard-boiled Mysteries Not for the Faint of Heart (A McCray Crime Collection) Page 76