Manning and I left the apartment complex together and were immediately set upon by the media vultures waiting outside. Photographers had their flashes constantly on us, TV cameras from CNN and Sky were focused on us and the journalists were all pressing up asking questions.
I made a short statement, announcing my involvement with the case and that as of yet, we had no leads, then pushed my way through the crowd to my car. Manning followed me. I was dropping him back to the station.
We drove in silence through the streets. Neither of us had much to say. I felt I had bonded with the young detective. I felt we would work well together on the case, and maybe even become friends.
I left him at the station; he had some paperwork to handle. When I reached home, I went to my office and opened my notepad. I began a profile of The Killer. I used the notes I had taken at the crime scene earlier to begin the profile. Clearly, the man was fucked up mentally. I suspected he craved attention, otherwise why would he leave us notes at each crime scene?
His pattern so far seemed to be killing my clients. However I knew it was too early to judge the pattern. After only two murders, it could go any way. He had stated in his last letter that my client Catherine Watson would die only if I refused to take up the case. That suggested that he might break the pattern, but who can trust a killer?
I had no real details to go on yet, he left nothing at all at the scenes, save the notes. It is hard to build a psychological profile around two notes.
I put the case notes to one side. I wanted to let the ideas I had float around in my mind. Maybe they would make a connection if I didn’t try to force it. In the meantime, I had to wait to see what the Feds and the PD came up with.
I headed to my kitchen to see Jane. She was preparing dinner.
“Where were you all day?” she asked immediately.
“I was called to another murder scene this morning. It was the same guy as before. The Killer. He killed Matthew Pierce”.
My wife’s expression became stern. “You are not getting involved. I know it must be hard, he was another of your clients, but you can’t. It nearly killed you before”.
“I’m sorry Jane... but I have to, let me finish before you get mad. He left a letter addressed specifically to me this time. He threatened that if I did not take up the case, he would kill Catherine Watson next, and then you. I will not be held responsible for Catherine dying, and if I lost you I don’t know what I would do. He’s forced me into the case, he knows my weak points, I care too much for the people around me”.
“Please reconsider... you know what it did to you last time... you nearly lost yourself... and me”.
“I know babe, I know.... but this is something I have to do. I cannot let anything happen to you. And I really want to catch this one. He could be one of the worst ever, he has the potential. I guess I’m challenging myself now too.... I need to know that I can still do it”.
“Well I can see that I can’t convince you”, she said and turned her back on me. I knew that was it. We ate in silence and then I left the house to take a walk.
The Killer sat on the park bench. He loved the way he could blend in. No one would have guessed who he was. His thoughts turned to the psychologist. If he was actually any good as a psychologist, he should have the case almost cracked by now. He should know straight away who The Killer’s identity is.
But that was the beauty of the disguise. He was eternally close to Dr. Jordan, knew everything about him, yet the doctor knew nothing about him. And he should. The doctor should find it easy to read his mind, yet he couldn’t. The Killer loved it.
Everyone was ignorant as to his true identity. They were running around after him like headless chickens, they had no leads to follow, no clues to go on. He had no pattern, that was the beauty of it. He killed randomly, and he committed perfect crimes. No one could track him, or predict his next move. He was invincible.
He thought of the woman he loved. She had chosen his other half over him, another reason he hated his other half. Yet he was extremely close to his other half, closer than he was with anyone. His other half knew nothing of his true nature.
The Killer’s thoughts turned to his next victim. Who would it be this time? Not even he knew. He would keep his promise for now and leave Miss Watson and Miss Jordan alone, after all the psychologist had met his demands and joined the hunt. No it would be someone completely unexpected, someone completely opposite to those he had already eliminated. Maybe he would kill a young one.
He smiled to himself at the thought, then got up from the park bench and walked away. The whole of Seattle was at his feet, cowering in fear, and no one knew a thing.