by catt dahman
“Copycat?” Tina asked.
“So we think.”
“Interesting,” Virgil said, “please continue.”
“Agent Lord came to get me, and he and I went right to Hollingsworth and asked him what he could tell us. Did he know who it was? What did he see in the crimes? Could he help in any way? And the son of a bitch laughed at us. Then what he said was that he read in the papers that Agent Lord often worked with a hotshot sheriff who thought, pardon me, but that thought he was hot shit.”
“Me? I’ve never been called that, not that I know of,” Virgil laughed a little.
“So Hollingsworth said ‘yes’: he knew a lot and would know more if he saw the files, that he couldn’t do it alone, and that he needed the hot shit sheriff to come help him.”
“Agent Lord shared that part.”
“We huffed out of there and were mad,” Sheriff Kirby said. “That was right before the third murder. We went back, asking him to help, just desperate, yanno. “
“Of course.”
“He repeated his request. Only this time, he had more ammunition. There was another murder, and that’s why I said everyone went nuts because before that, we never had a killin’. The other case involved another family attack but was nothing like Hollingsworth’s or the copycat’s.”
Virgil interrupted, “Did the second perp think he or she could pass it off as one of the copycat’s killings?”
“That’s my thinking. Yup, so I have a copycat, one pompous ass of a professor trying to make deals, and a second killer, if we are right about it, not being the copycat, if you can follow that. Anyway, Walter Hollingsworth said he would help if you came, and to sweeten the deal, he would help with the other case because, and I quote: ‘You are going to do this totally wrong and never see it for what it really is. It’s very simple, and yet, it is muddy as the Mississippi River.’”
“That’s arrogant,” Tina frowned as she said it.
“Oh, he is an arrogant fool, to be sure, but the truth is Walter Hollingsworth is the most brilliant criminologist ever, and if anyone can solve both cases, he can. That was his price, and we accepted his terms when you agreed to come. To be honest, I ain’t got a clue on the copycat, and as for the other one, I have my suspicions, but Hollingsworth is making me doubt myself,” said the sheriff as he leaned back in his chair and gulped his tea.
“I will need a deputy or someone else who can take notes fast. Tina and I will be talking the case as we go, bouncing ideas. Secondly, when I work with Hollingsworth, I may have to take on the role of friend, adversary, partner, or whatever, and I want freedom for that, but make no mistake, I dislike him:
everything about his criminology, police procedure, and psychology as well. Do not underestimate him or think he ever makes a mistake or that you’re smarter because I assure you that you are not smarter. When he was caught and you can review that in the file, it was not a mistake, as much as his choice to make a mistake he controlled.”
“I understand,” Virgil said as he nodded.
“Okay,” agreed Tina.
“No, Sheriff McLendon, you don’t understand, and if you finally do, you may be okay. He trades help for parts of your soul, your deepest pain because he savors it. It is his power. He will get into you mind and uncover your secrets and fears, so I warn you now, like a Catholic confessional, let it all go, or he will torture you with it. Again, no drama. He’s just that intelligent, and he finds a painful spot and digs into it with all he got. He made me feel like crap when he asked all kinds of questions about my wife’s dying.”
Virgil tilted his head and said, “I intend to keep it very professional and get facts only.”
Sheriff Reb Kirby chuckled bitterly. “If so, you will be sent away by him and more will die, and maybe we’ll solve the cases, and maybe we won’t. I’m as tough as old shoe leather, but I interviewed him. By the time it ended, my deputy Harold Tackett reached over and took my gun away, and you wanna know why? Because Hollingsworth was in custody: in handcuffs and leg irons, but I was honestly trying to decide between two things: blowing his brains out and then my own, or just eating the barrel of my gun. He made me feel that bad about myself.”
“That’s rough,” Tina said.
“He will get to your painful places. Remember that. He found my soft spot, and he dug in so hard that I was sick and tired. He does that for entertainment.”
“I respect your advice, Sheriff Kirby, and will keep it in mind at all times. Thank you for sharing that. He sounds as if he enjoys reliving the misery of others. That’s sick, if you ask me.”
“He loves it.”
“He sounds very evil,” Virgil said. “This is a bit strange, but I don’t suppose there is a motel in town where we can stay that has a piano?”
Kirby laughed hard. “That’s the last thing I expected to hear. No, but why stay at some tacky motel when I have a big house that I live in alone, and I have a piano that needs tuning, but it’s a fine one. You can come and go as you wish, and I’ll give you keys. Eat the food, cook, or don’t…whatever you want. How is that?”
Virgil held out his hand, “You have a deal.”
Chapter Three: Trading Demons
Virgil and Tina sat on metal chairs outside a holding cell, several feet away from the bars but able to speak easily with the man who sat on the other side of those bars. To the side sat two agents who would at times guard as a team or alone; they were well trained in making sure a prisoner stayed locked away. They watched but never looked interested in anything the prisoner or visitors said.
The man in the cell was ordinary looking, unmemorable, with greying dark hair, intelligent, grey eyes, and few age lines, a thin-lipped mouth, and rather large ears. If anything, he looked as if he would be a stiff-upper-lip type and might be a calm, focused man. His body was firm, solid with muscles that he gained easily from simple workouts in his cell; he was not prone to being fat or gaining weight. He was neither outstanding nor attractive, but he wasn’t repellent, either.
He was forgettable.
“I am honored that the FBI saw fit to bring you, Sheriff McLendon. It seems they feel I still have a little to offer them in terms of erudition and experience. But then I understand that some of them find you the next biggest case-solver.”
“I guess since I am referred to as the ‘hot shit sheriff’.”
“Oh well, I do turn to the vernacular at times. It must be a sign of the times, right? But here we are, face-to-face.”
“Dr. Hollingsworth, I’ve learned that we have a lot to learn from one another. When families are being killed and cases investigated, it’s hard to say that we ever can have too much help,” Virgil began.
“And yet, you are the one who prefers little background when starting a case. I can thus deduce that this interview is the beginning of your education on this case, or these cases, I should say. You have no predetermined ideas, and theories and are tabula rasa? Yes?”
“Are we ever truly blank slates? As far as you asking for me, I find that strange. I’m sure the sheriff, prison authorities, and FBI gladly would have traded help for one case in exchange for my involvement, yet you are offering a two-case exchange. Why is that? It’s quite generous.”
Hollingsworth seemed to weigh each word as Virgil spoke. He tasted each word, rolling it around in his mind for the full flavor and smiled engagingly. “The real trade was for the Copycat Killer. The other case interests me, and in prison, I have little to occupy my mind, other than the books I write, of course, and the few people I write to and exchange ideas with. As a side note, I have followed your newly found career carefully.” It was the most honest things he would ever say in his interviews.
“I see.”
Tina tried to get a feel for this intelligent man before her; he had a brilliant mind that he used to track criminals and reinvent how law enforcement worked, and for many years he was a wealth of helpful information and tactics, and yet here he sat behind bars, scrutinizing his visitors in a haughty manner and lookin
g down his aquiline, sophisticated nose at them. He reminded her of a rat, smart, but still a rat looking to help himself to cheese.
He had attained everything he could wish for but still remained single and childless and thereby turned 180 degrees to being a criminal. Correction, he was a killer who wrote the manual on perfect crime scenes, literally. He felt revulsion for someone who blatantly gave everything away so easily just to be at the top of his game.
“Let’s begin with you, Sheriff.”
“If you insist.”
“With regard to your first case, you were inexperienced other than some history of pursuing drunks and wife-beaters, and yet you had the intelligence and coarse ideas. I have to give you but a score of four for that one. You may have unraveled the case, but it was purely because it fell into your lap. You missed so much that we can obviously say you caused a great deal of pointless suffering and demise by your ineptitude. You made assumptions in that the murderer had to be from outside the community.”
Virgil struggled to keep from gritting his teeth; the same thoughts had haunted him. “I agree. And what should I have done differently?” He regretted asking the question the second it was out of his mouth; he had allowed an opening. The worst of this was that Virgil had chastised himself for the exact same things and carried a great deal of guilt for his inexperience-causing trauma. Being reminded was like being scalded, and he had to mentally step back and refuse to take this man’s opinion as truth
Tina shifted, feeling Virgil’s discomfort and understanding it.
“You neglected to look among your locals because you appropriated a mindset that the assassin could not conceivably be one of your own. Tragic mistake. We must always consider the ones closest to the crime; isn’t it most often that a crime is a family affair? A fatal mistake you must avoid. Putting off the examination of longstanding cases was also pitiable planning; finding connections and commonalities is critical. Did you not feel a local had the intelligence to perpetrate the crimes?”
“I see, interesting questions,” Virgil said. He knew his face was flushed because the doctor was right; Virgil carried guilt because of his failure to catch the culprits quickly enough. He hadn’t considered a local could be smart enough for such a heinous crime.
“Don’t take it too hard since you didn’t have the background for that convoluted style for a first case. In all honesty, it was difficult. I’m sure those first victims understood. A shame about your deputy; I hope you will update me about his current status.”
Tina felt slapped and knew the doctor was quickly going for Virgil’s weak spot to evaluate his temper. Virgil was fairly mild-mannered, but when it came to his own, he was particularly edgy.
Virgil suppressed a response. That was very much his fragile spot: losing his deputy to sheer insanity on the first case. It caused Virgil pain every single day. But he did the best he could, and he and his wife, Vivian, adopted his deputy’s surviving child, Charlene, whom they called Charlie. It was all Virgil could do to keep from punching the doctor.
He stayed in his place and tried to find a calm play again. He refused to look away and so challenged the man in the cell.
“Your second case, quite interesting and more my style.”
“Brutal and vicious murder, your style, yes. How do you evaluate my work on that one?” Virgil tried to suppress a smirk even though he was livid with anger.
Dr. Walter Hollingsworth smirked as well and said, “I give you a nine on that case. Maybe an eight and a half. You were excellent as far as taking the slimmest of clues and developing theories. You rightly took some great risks on evidence. I had to deduct a little because there was no reason for that deputy to have been in harm’s way, and that debacle was a lack of communication. I do like that you profiled the killer early on.”
“I see. And the other case that came up when I was in California? You know that one as well?”
“The other case, that of the wicked black widow, was almost textbook perfect; you finally read the scene in totality and connected everything to your bygone learning. I give you a perfect ten on that one.”
“Wow, Virg, you scored better on that, congratulations,” Tina rolled her eyes. She knew he had done a great job with those cases and gave him a quick wink.
“Ah, lovely Deputy Rant. Always there when required, always prepared for the clean-up detail, semper fidelis,” Hollingsworth said as he waved a pale, unlined hand in the air. “You work hard and get praise like a puppy seeking a pat on the head, but has anyone ever asked your theory? No? A shame. I wonder if you have ideas that could help in a case, but as of yet, you only do the sweat work. The little girl deputy is always unloved.”
“I feel I am an appreciated part of a team,” she said, and she meant that. She loved her work, and to her, getting to work this case with Virgil was a great learning experience.
“Of course, you do, Deputy Rant,” he said the words sarcastically.
Virgil saw that this was the way Hollingsworth looked for weaknesses. He was probing to see if Tina were resentful.
Tina leaned forward, not backing away. “I like my job. And this is Virgil’s third big case? How did he do? I wasn’t there to watch him at work.” She slid past the probing because there was nothing there to find.
“The Fordham Institute for the Criminally Insane. I would like to be incarcerated there. Could you help arrange that, Sheriff?”
“It’s always possible. I won’t promise that, and I won’t make deals based on the possibility because I don’t know if you deserve it or qualify. I doubt it would be the right fit for you, Dr. Hollingsworth,” Virgil said. “They may not care for those who are there only to make chaos.”
“Very honest answer, Sheriff. Deputy Rant, I find that the sheriff scores a nine and half on the Fordham Case. From my research, it sounds as if the case had many suspects, no motive, and few clues. I appreciate the technique in that case, getting to know the subjects and working backwards from motive. All those crazies in one place and ripe for the inquisition; how enjoyable that must have been. I am envious. I’ll admit I am inquisitive about what great secret you discovered, Sheriff.”
Virgil shrugged, “I can’t reveal that nor make a deal for it. It’s a secret, best either unproven or not known at this time. It’s best not divulged. Did you follow my investigation of the Kingsborough House?”
“That house has always fascinated me. The case is far removed from my expertize because I always dealt with humans and not houses. I expect it was unusual for you, as well. Frustrating. You didn’t know if you were dealing with people or just a house and history, and the present merged. Fascinating. As for your skills, I rate you at a six because while you did gather evidence and walk the scenes, you allowed personal emotions to cause your situation at the end of your case. Those people would have made an excellent study, but they were killed. A shame.”
“They couldn’t be taken alive,” Tina said; she had been one who fought blind, naked monsters who desired her flesh. Their deaths were no shame at all, and Tina would gladly go shoot them. “Some are not right for a study and need to be put down like the monsters they are.”
“Touche, Deputy Rant.”
“Only a six. I can accept that,” Virgil said, “but if you had been the one there, with someone gnawing at your legs for the marrow, oh, you might have a different view.”
“Possibly.”
“The knowledge wasn’t worth our safety,” Virgil said since he hoped the doctor caught the message he was sending. He didn’t mind working without this madman, and in fact, might prefer it, but time was of essence.
“But you see with me, am I not a case for the value in taking a criminal alive? Look at the knowledge available I can share. Who knows a serial killer better than a fellow serial killer? I have walked both paths.”
“If one values knowledge from a crazy man,” Tina said, managing her own dart, “what you did wasn’t spectacular but rather…pedantic.”
Hollingsworth laughed. �
��Oh, if it helps you sleep better at night to think all murderers are insane, then please continue thinking that way, dear Deputy. Far be it for me to remind you that the most normal, law abiding people, those who are close friends and family, can snap or come into their own and kill? Maybe you’ve taken a life while on duty, and you’ve felt that wave of warm satisfaction? That feeling of vindication and of a job well done? The blind relief at having removed a threat? I think I see that on your face. You’ve been well-satisfied with a kill.”
Tina swallowed guilt. She reminded herself this man was far better at mind games than she was. He had made a career of games.
“If I score so poorly, why do you wish to work with me, Doctor Hollingsworth?” Virgil shifted the focus. “I am sure there are far better FBI agents, such as your guards here. You can find a hundred law officers more experienced than I am. I’m fairly new at this, really.”
The doctor rubbed his chin and turned his head to pop his neck as he kept smirking. He wasn’t relaxing but was reappraising the two before him, searching for a weakness and a tender spot to poke at. He enjoyed exploring minds, and the best way to get inside was to find the soft spot. He felt he might have two possible spots with the fresh-faced deputy.
“Any other lawman would have scored a one or a zero. He couldn’t have solved the cases unless said cases fell open in his lap. Had I worked with you, your scores would have been perfect. You have potential, and yet, you tend to either allow your emotions to take over, or you use tunnel vision instead of being as open as possible.”
“I doubt that. Those cases gave me a few headaches, but any experienced officer would have figured them out before me. And with better results.” It was truly how Virgil felt. He never knew why people asked for his help.
Doctor Hollingsworth laughed genuinely, “So it’s true? You are that modest? I am pleased to find such a childlike, innocent demeanor. I’d rather fill your head with ravings of how everyone is better, and certainly I am, but the truth is you are very good at what you do. You notice the tiny details.”