by Shawn Wilson
“It went well. Maybe because she had dealt with her parents’ sudden death, she was very specific about her wishes. Lily wanted it to be a celebration of her life and it was. I’m not sure she envisioned it would take place in the Ceremonial Courtroom to standing room only, but she was well respected in the legal community. Lots of her students from AU were there and they hosted a reception afterward.” Brick smiled as he recalled all the boxes of Luciano’s pizza that were delivered. “I think she would have been pleased.”
Ron nodded. “It’s still kind of shocking to me what I read in the autopsy report. I mean, she was young and looked to be healthy. Do you think she had any idea she had a brain tumor?”
“No, although looking back, there were some signs. She was having migraines, but millions of people have migraines, and they don’t have a brain tumor. Sometimes, her logic seemed off, but I thought she was just thinking out loud. When you do that, not everything makes perfect sense.”
“Right.” Ron sprinkled some salt and pepper on the steaks.
“And a couple of times, I sensed her mood swings, but let’s face it, I didn’t know her well enough for it to set off any alarms. Still, sometimes I think if I had only—”
“Don’t go there, man. You can’t beat up on yourself for something you had no way of knowing.”
“Easier said than done.” Brick needed a minute before he continued. He finished off his Coke Zero. “Since Lily didn’t have any family to speak of, she had designated a girlfriend to be her advocate in case she got sick or was incapacitated. Anyway, I spoke to her, and from what she was told by the neurosurgeon, the tumor was inoperable and very aggressive. Within weeks there would have been serious indicators like vision loss, disorientation, seizures, things like that. At best, she probably had six to nine months.”
Ron looked shaken. “That’s horrible, but even so, she shouldn’t have been cheated out of whatever time she had left by a lowlife douchebag. If Eric had lived, do you think he would have been charged with Lily’s death?”
“Possibly. The prosecutors would argue the hostage situation caused the stroke, and the stroke killed her, but it’s complicated by the preexisting condition. It’s a little like the situation with Cruz. It seems to me that photoshopping those pictures and leaving them in the cell led to Cruz’s suicide.”
“Having seen those pictures, I totally agree.” Ron shook his head as if trying to clear the images from his mind. “The one of his wife was bad enough, but the baby … he had to be a sick motherfucker to even fake pictures like that.” He took a sip of beer. “Note to gangbangers—don’t post family photos on Facebook.”
“All in all, it probably wouldn’t have really mattered since the case in Arlington was a capital murder. If he was convicted, he’d get the death penalty.”
“For sure, and in Virginia, they fry ’em first, ask questions later.”
Brick knew Ron was exaggerating but not by much. “Eric saved taxpayers in at least two jurisdictions a lot of time and money.”
“True, although we’re going to be working this for a while. It’s going to take a couple of weeks to finish going through all his computers. He had three or four plus a couple of hard drives. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are other victims. I told you about his wallpaper, didn’t I?” Brick nodded. “He definitely liked petite women with long dark hair. He must have subscribed to a lot of magazines to find all the pictures he pasted on his wall.” Ron picked up a bottle of Worcestershire sauce, unscrewed the cap, and shook a few drops onto the steaks. “And what’s really weird, these women were all fully clothed, but then the stuff on his computer, whoa. I mean, I’ll admit I’ve surfed some porn sites, like every other guy on the planet, but there’s a limit.”
“Are you talking kiddie porn?”
“No, we haven’t found that, at least so far. I’m talking hard core and the quantity. And that stuff gets expensive. He had credit cards up the wazoo—most were maxed out.”
“Some claim porn can be just as addictive as alcohol or drugs or gambling.”
“Apparently, it was for him.” Ron looked perplexed. “I just don’t get it—some things aren’t meant to be spectator sports.”
“Like sex?”
“Exactly.”
“Unless you’re a voyeur.”
“But that’s another thing that doesn’t make sense. He went beyond voyeur by abducting or holding his victims hostage, but he didn’t have sex with any of them. And he left these rambling tirades about women pretending to be perfect then betraying him.”
“He made a comment like that to me, remember?”
“Yeah, you’re right, I forgot about that. But these were long rambling rants calling women sluts and whores. He wrote about how disgusting they were and how it turned him off. Then we found other stuff that was the complete opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“We found a couple of love letters to a fantasy girlfriend. He described how perfect she was and how he’d search until he found her. Bullshit like that.” Ron took another sip of beer. “Can you hand me those tongs.”
Brick picked up the tongs and handed them to Ron. He watched as Ron picked up one of the steaks, set it on a platter, and tested it with a meat thermometer, but he was thinking about the love letters Eric had written. He felt as though he had found the missing puzzle piece.
“Says medium rare.”
“It’s starting to make sense, Ron.”
“Say what?”
Brick didn’t respond immediately. So many thoughts were running through his head, he needed a minute to sort them out. He took a deep breath. “I get it now. Eric was searching for his Galatea.”
“His what?”
“Galatea. In Greek mythology, the sculptor Pygmalion was so disgusted by prostitutes and immoral women that he vowed never to marry. Instead, he created an ivory statue of what he believed to be the perfect woman. He named it Galatea and fell in love with the statue.”
“I don’t know, man.” Ron’s dreads swayed as he shook his head.
“Think about it,” Brick said. “It’s obvious Eric liked certain physical characteristics, and he sought out women who met his requirements. But when they failed his expectation of perfection, he either rejected them, or in some cases, killed them.”
“And then started his search all over again.” Ron looked over at Brick and nodded. “I guess that does make sense. And it seems he abused his ICE authority to prey on at least two of his victims.” Ron added the other steaks to the platter. “I think we’re ready to eat.”
Brick held the screen door for Ron.
“Thanks, man.” He hesitated before climbing the stairs. “Greek mythology … damn, you need to go on Jeopardy.”
“No, I’d probably get too many movie trivia questions.” Brick smiled at his former partner. “Think I missed my chance … I should have gone on that other show, the one where you could phone a friend.”