“Someone else is the brains of the operation and he or she is the one controlling the copycat and Browning while keeping his or her hands clean.”
“That’s Griff’s theory—the Malcolm York imposter is the Svengali puppeteer pulling all the strings.”
“And Griff could be right. If he is . . .”
Maleah waited for Derek to finish his thought, but when he didn’t, she asked, “If Griff is right, then even if we track down the copycat and stop him, this won’t be over, will it?”
“We know Browning is a psychopath and my guess is that the copycat is, too. Working up a profile on the copycat is possible, but the third person—if there is a third person—is an unknown. He could be a she. He could be anywhere in the world, making it almost impossible for us to find him, especially if he has unlimited resources.”
“How likely is that scenario?” Maleah asked, hoping Derek would dismiss it as an unlikely theory.
“I’d say between the two scenarios, it’s fifty/fifty.”
“Damn,” Maleah mumbled. “So how do we find out exactly who and what we’re dealing with?”
“You know the answer to that question.”
“We have to find the copycat.”
“That’s our job. Yours and mine, working as a team, with the power of the Powell Agency behind us,” Derek said. “And it’s Luke Sentell’s job to find out if the Malcolm York imposter is a real person or if rumors about him are just that, rumors, and nothing more.”
Maleah yawned. “Sorry.”
“You’re tired. Maybe you should go back to your room and get a good night’s sleep.”
“No, I’m okay. I thought you were going to use me as a sounding board, bounce your thoughts off me.”
He grinned. Her stomach did a wicked flip-flop. As if realizing the effect he had on her, he chuckled.
“If you say one thing . . .” she warned him.
“Oh, honey . . . er . . . sorry. Scratch that endearment. Not honey. Let me rephrase.”
“Just skip it, will you. Stop smiling at me. Get serious.”
“A little levity isn’t a bad thing, not when it’s easy to get sucked into the kind of darkness these evil bastards inhabit.”
She stared at him. “Is that how you see them, the Carver and the copycat, as evil?”
“In a sense, yes, they are evil. Not the they’repossessed-by-the-devil kind of evil, but evil in an all too human way. Psychopaths and sociopaths have mental disorders. Some can be treated through therapy and medication, if diagnosed. Some become killers. It is believed that these people lack a conscience and feel no remorse or guilt.”
“Do you agree with psychiatrists who believe that sociopaths are a result of environment and psychopaths are a result of heredity?”
“There’s too much controversy in the mental health field regarding the differences between sociopaths and psychopaths for me to take sides on that issue,” Derek said. “Most clinicians use the ‘antisocial personality disorder’ diagnosis these days to describe both.”
“And yet you refer to Browning and the copycat as psychopaths.”
“Browning’s doctors put that label on him, not me. But I do agree. As for the copycat, I’m going on gut instinct. This guy has to be highly organized. He thinks ahead, plans ahead, doesn’t do anything erratic or unplanned.”
“Even if someone else is telling him what to do, as would be the case in scenario number two?”
“If there is a third person who is in charge, he would hardly choose a loose cannon to do his dirty work, would he?”
“You’re right. He would choose someone capable of taking orders, and someone who wouldn’t draw attention to himself by acting in an irrational manner.”
“It’s not uncommon for many killers to show signs of both the psychopath’s and the sociopath’s characteristics, but each usually leans more in one direction than the other.”
“You believe that our guy leans more toward the psychopath’s characteristics, right?”
“Right. So my profile starts there. The Copycat Carver is organized, possibly obsessively organized. He will be difficult to catch because he does nothing on the spur of the moment. He plans each step of his kills and makes sure he leaves behind no clues.”
“And he certainly has no problem using other people, without remorse or guilt, to achieve his goals.”
“Our killer is probably above average in intelligence, just as Browning is. The victims are strangers to him, just as Browning’s Carver victims were strangers. Browning deviated from the psychopath’s norm by leaving the bodies in plain view.”
“And the copycat has done exactly the same thing.”
“He is a copycat.”
Maleah nodded. “I know. It’s just . . . Damn it, there’s something off about this whole thing. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s there, if only I could figure out what it is.”
“I agree. That’s why the more I think about everything, the more I’m beginning to wonder about the copycat’s role in these murders.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s obviously intelligent, organized, mobile, skilled, has no ties to his victims, and no problem using murder to tie up loose ends. To date, he has mimicked Jerome Browning’s murder MO five times. He strangled Wyman Scudder with the skill of a trained solider and he shot Cindy Di Blasi with the expertise of a professional.”
“That’s it, isn’t it?” Maleah realized that the truth had been staring them in the face all along. “The copycat
“Yes, I think he is. He’s not a typical serial killer, actually not even a true copycat killer. He is, most likely, a hired killer.”
“A hit man.”
“Yes, an assassin, bought and paid for by our
“Then Griff’s been right all along, hasn’t he?”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean maybe?” she asked.
“Even if our guy is a professional assassin, that doesn’t mean someone calling himself Malcolm York is his boss. Anyone with a grudge against Griff—or Nic for that matter—could have hired him.”
Maleah yawned again. “Sorry, I guess I am getting a little sleepy.”
“Let’s call it a night.”
“No, not yet. I should be good for a while longer. I can’t stop thinking about your profile of the copycat or the fact that we agree he could be a professional killer.” Maleah kicked off her shoes, brought her bent left leg up on the sofa and crossed her right leg over the left. Relaxing her shoulders between the sofa back and the padded armrest, she faced Derek. “So, tell me how you go about profiling a professional killer?”
“One size doesn’t fit all,” Derek said. “Although I believe it’s the consensus of law enforcement and psychiatrists that for the most part, all professional assassins have at least one thing in common—the thrill of killing.”
Maleah shivered. The thought that anyone could derive pleasure from murdering another human being was an alien concept for her. “Are all professional killers psychopaths?”
“No, not in the strictest sense. For some of these killers it’s a matter of showing their control because having that kind of power—power over life and death—gives them an unparalleled rush, an excitement they can get no other way.”
“My God, that is so sick, but you say all of them aren’t mentally ill, that they aren’t crazy.”
“Each of us has within us the ability to kill,” Derek said. “Given the right circumstances, you or I could and would kill. The difference is that most of us would not derive pleasure from the act. It would be in self-defense or to protect someone else. Or as soldiers do every day, we would be willing to kill or die for our country, for a cause we believe in.”
“But a soldier killing in wartime is different.”
“Yes, it is. And yet . . .”
