The Executioner

‘Well, then this will make your day.’ She calmly placed the paper on his desk with the front-page headline facing up.

Hunter let his eyes glide towards the paper without reaching for it. Garcia stood up and approached Hunter’s desk, curious to read it himself.

THE EXECUTIONER STRIKES AGAIN. NEW VICTIM SCORCHED TO DEATH BY SADISTIC SERIAL KILLER. LOS ANGELES POLICE BAFFLED.

Hunter read the headline in silence before quickly checking the reporter’s name – Claire Anderson. I could’ve guessed that.

As Hunter made no attempt to read the rest of the article, Garcia was quick to snatch the paper from his desk.

‘My question is,’ the captain said, annoyed, ‘how the hell have they linked these two murders together?’

‘She’s got contacts in the police and probably at the morgue,’ Hunter replied casually.

‘She?’ the captain asked with a worried frown.

‘Claire Anderson, the reporter who wrote the article.’

Captain Blake stared at Hunter with inquisitive eyes. ‘By the look on your face, I gather you know her.’

‘We’ve met.’

The captain held Hunter’s gaze for a few seconds, but he was giving nothing away. ‘No one else at the RHD, apart from the three of us, knows that these two cases are connected.’ She started pacing the room. ‘If neither of you talked to her, the tip couldn’t have come from here. Doctor Winston has guaranteed me that only he and three very reliable forensic agents know about the connection. He’s sure the leak isn’t on his side.’

‘It says here,’ Garcia interrupted, reading from the paper. ‘Special Homicide Detective Robert Hunter is leading the investigation. Though he’s declined to comment, there’s no question that both murders have simply baffled the police. The Executioner . . .’ he paused and raised his eyes at Hunter. ‘Cute name. Who the hell comes up with these?’

Hunter shrugged indifferently.

Garcia continued reading. ‘. . . The Executioner is now roaming the streets of our city, and once again the police seem to have no real direction, no suspects and, as we understand, no clues. For all our sakes, this reporter sincerely hopes that Detective Hunter gets to the Executioner faster than he did to the infamous Crucifix Killer.’

‘Bitch,’ Hunter said under his breath.

‘All this doesn’t really bother me . . . yet,’ the captain said, locking eyes with Hunter. ‘I don’t care if this reporter somehow managed to link both cases together. What we must, at any cost, keep from the press is the numbering on the victims. If the press gets hold of that, we’re screwed. We’ll have a citywide panic on our hands. Not to mention the nuclear pressure to find the first two victims.’

‘They obviously don’t know anything about that,’ Garcia said, waving the paper in his hand. ‘Or else it would’ve made the headlines.’

‘And we’ll do our best to keep it that way,’ the captain countered. ‘I want this case completely sealed off. No one else is to have access to this room or the investigation files without you clearing it with me first. Is that understood?’

Fifty

Captain Blake approached the corkboard and studied the new photographs. Hunter noticed she visibly flinched before falling back into her usual controlled demeanor. ‘Did the killer use blood again to draw the number?’ She pointed to one of the pictures.

‘Yes,’ Hunter replied, pushing his chair back with a scraping sound and standing up.

There was a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ the captain called ahead of Hunter and Garcia.

Ian Hopkins entered and was instantly surprised to see Captain Blake in the room.

‘Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were having a meeting.’

‘It’s OK,’ Hunter said, motioning him to stay.

Captain Blake turned to face Garcia with a questioning expression.

‘He’s OK.’ Garcia gently shook his head. ‘He’s the officer you assigned to us to help with the legwork, remember?’

‘I just came in to tell Detective Hunter that no one took down the Monica girl details,’ Hopkins said. ‘When the officer got to the interrogation room, she was gone.’

‘Monica?’ the captain asked, turning around. ‘Is this the girl who came in yesterday saying she had some information on the Seven Saints church murder?’

‘That’s her,’ Garcia replied, leaning against his desk.

‘So what came of that?’

‘We had just started talking to her when we were told about the new victim.’ Hunter joined the captain by the photo board. ‘She never got a chance to tell us what she came here to tell us.’

‘Was she at the church? Did she see anything?’ The captain’s interest grew.

‘No to the first and in a way to the second,’ Garcia replied, scratching his chin.

‘And what the fuck does that mean?’

‘She wasn’t at the church,’ Hunter said calmly. ‘All she told us is that she had a vision.’

The captain’s posture tensed. ‘Hold on,’ she said firmly, lifting her right hand. ‘She came in claiming she was psychic?’

‘Not as far as we know,’ Hunter replied.

The captain stared around the room and came to rest on Garcia. ‘Somebody better tell me something.’

‘According to the officer who first talked to her, she didn’t say anything about being a psychic or having any visions. She claimed she had some information, but she’d only talk to the detectives in charge.’

The captain took a packet of mints out of her dark blazer’s breast pocket and popped one in her mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’ She turned to Hunter. ‘But if she is a crackpot claiming she’s psychic, why are we after her?’

‘She’s not a psychic, captain,’ Hunter said cautiously. ‘She seems to feel things deeper than most people.’

‘She what?’ The captain almost choked on her mint.

‘Extrasensory perception.’ Hunter didn’t hesitate.

‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ she shot back. Her hands on her hips. Her voice half an octave higher.

‘I’m as skeptical about this as you are, captain,’ Hunter replied, ‘but the fact is, whether we believe it or not, people with ESP do exist.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Robert.’ The captain crushed her mint with a loud crunch. ‘We’re not the supernatural freaking police. The press is already out in force to get us, and so is the mayor. We are under severe pressure. Now imagine what would happen if they found out we enlisted the help of a psychic. How incompetent would we look?’

‘I’m not enlisting anyone’s help, captain. I just wanna talk to her. Find out what she has to say. If it all turns out to be bullshit, we’ll disregard it like we’ve done with one hundred percent of the tips that have come in so far.’

She popped a new mint in her mouth and rolled it from one cheek to the other. ‘What makes you think she’s the real deal?’

Hunter stood behind his chair and leaned his elbows against it. ‘As I was rushing out of the interrogation room yesterday, she stopped me to tell me something.’ He looked at Garcia. ‘You’d already left.’

‘And what was that?’

Hunter paused for a moment. ‘She said, “He knew about the fire. He knew what scared her.”’