The Cigarette Killer

by Claudia Hall Christian

  She looked at them and held up her hands, as if she were conducting an orchestra.

  “The unsub,” they said in unison when her hands dropped sharply.

  Everyone laughed. They used this term because it was fake, and they thought it made them cool.

  “Who is that person?” Ava asked. “What drives them to commit such heinous crimes?”

  Ava glanced at each of them. Bob leaned forward to take a couple of cookies from the plate on the coffee table.

  “You told O’Malley that this entire thing revolves around him,” Fran said.

  “Something we haven’t determined,” Nelson said.

  “If it’s about O’Malley, is it possible that it’s about you as well?” Bob asked.

  “Would fit the M.O.,” Leslie said. “Torture a man and a woman at the same time until he kills them both within a few hours of each other.”

  “We’re back to needing to know everything you remember,” Fran said.

  Leslie reached over Ava to take the bowl of popcorn from Nelson.

  “You’re the most observant person I know,” Leslie said.

  “Well, Seth . . .” Ava said.

  “That’s why you’re such a good pair,” Fran said. “You both see things the rest of us miss.”

  “Okay,” Ava said. “What I remember . . .”

  Her face flushed with emotion.

  “So much of it is . . .” Ava said. “I mean Beth was with me every step of the way, and my dad . . . all those lies.”

  “That’s a good reason to talk about this now,” Nelson said. “Get used to the demons so you’re not surprised at the trial.”

  Ava looked from face to face before nodding.

  “I’m not sure why I’m so hesitant,” Ava said.

  “Beth, O’Malley,” Nelson said with a shrug. “Your father?”

  “Just talk,” Fran said. “We can handle whatever you say.”

  Ava tossed down the bourbon and held out her glass. Bob poured her another inch of amber liquid. She pulled the glass close to her chest. She fell silent for a brief moment, and only then did she begin to tell the story.

  “I was . . . oh, I don’t know . . . ten, maybe eleven, when I first read about the Cigarette Killer,” Ava started. “Of course, he didn’t have that name yet.”

  “What did they call him?” Leslie asked.

  “Nothing,” Ava said. “The murders were spread out over a long period of time and over a large distance. While the murders seemed as if they shared the same characteristics, they differed in specific ways. It was possible they were perpetrated by different people.”

  “Why did you read about the Cigarette Killer?” Fran asked. Her voice was nurturing. “Was your father involved in that choice?”

  “No.” Ava shook her head. “I had a school assignment to follow a news story in the Denver Post. You know, pick a story, and follow it all the way through. The teacher had to sign off on our topic.”

  “Any story?” Fran asked.

  Ava nodded.

  “I spent the entire next Saturday with the newspaper,” Ava said. “The only thing that was interesting to me was this one case of a couple found on the old Lowry site after it was first decommissioned. I don’t think the teacher would have ever agreed to it if she’d thought he’d killed so many people so brutally for such a long time. To her, it was just a story.”

  “And O’Malley?” Nelson asked.

  “O’Malley?” Ava asked, shrugging.

  “He’s always been a big deal,” Nelson said. “I mean, piano prodigy. I’ve seen articles dating back to the sale of his first symphony. He was . . .”

  “Eight,” Ava said with a nod. “What’s your point?”

  “Was he part of your interest? He’s a fascinating man. Handsome as hell . . .” Leslie said.

  “There’s a picture of O’Malley and Delgado in the first story I can find about the murders you’re referring to,” Nelson said. “The title of the article was something like ‘Great Detectives Looking for Help With Murder.’ Under the title was a photo of them grinning at the camera like movie stars.”

  “Hot as hell,” Fran said with a nod.

  “I was ten!” Ava shrugged.

  “Shit, when I was ten I had the biggest crush on Brad Pitt,” Nelson said. He waved his hand at his chest. “He fueled many a horny thought.”

  “No one would fault you for having the hots for O’Malley,” Fran said.

  “Half of Denver’s women . . .” Bob started.

  “And men!” Nelson said.

  “ . . . have the hots for O’Malley,” Bob said.

  “I’m not ashamed,” Ava said. “I honestly don’t remember. I was intrigued by the idea that this couple was killed and the police had no leads. But . . .”

  Ava blushed and cleared her throat. She drank some bourbon.

  “But?” Nelson asked.

  “I still think it is the single best piece of deduction that I’ve ever heard of, even now,” Ava said. “O’Malley and Delgado figured it out — just figured it out. No one knows how or why. They figured it out from the evidence — ten years ago, before advanced forensics. Some state trooper picked up Seurat outside of Fraser for a broken tail light or something stupid like that on the same road as a burial site. O’Malley and Delgado drove there to talk to him. They walked into interrogation, and Seurat spilled his guts.”

  “They showed the tapes at the conference,” Leslie said. “O’Malley and Delgado looked shocked when Seurat started to confess. It was like they couldn’t believe it was him. O’Malley’s case notes show that he’d already figured out everything Seurat was saying. It looks like O’Malley and Delgado thought Seurat was pulling their leg. You know, telling them what they already thought — as a joke or whatever.”

  “They could have convicted him on the strength of his confessions, but O’Malley and Delgado insisted that they match what he was saying with real, solid evidence,” Ava said. “He was convicted on evidence, not his many confessions.”

  Ava shrugged.

  “Seth said at the trial that it was weird,” Ava said. “He and Delgado had talked for months about this killer, and then one Monday they were standing in front of him. Seurat told them what they already knew. He was so frustrated that he couldn’t impress O’Malley and Delgado with his murderous prowess that he spilled on six more murders.”

  “Could Seurat have been a patsy?” Nelson asked. “Someone knew what O’Malley and Delgado were thinking and arranged for Seurat to be that person?”

  Ava shrugged but fell silent.

  “What?” Leslie knocked her shoulder against Ava’s.

  “I see what you mean,” Ava said. “I have it bad for O’Malley. I feel defensive for him, like he would know better or whatever. But . . .”

  “The answer to all of this could be that Big Daddy paid Seurat to solve this case,” Bob said.

  “What would the payoff be?” Fran asked. “O’Malley and Delgado had already solved so many murders, all over the country. They didn’t write books about this case or even make a big deal about it. As far as I can tell, they just took the next case and went back to work. I actually checked!”

  “Something you want to tell us, Fran?” Nelson asked.

  Fran shook her head like she didn’t know what Nelson was talking about.

  “He’s asking if you have the hots for O’Malley,” Ava said with a slight grin.

  “No. You . . .” Fran’s eyes flitted to Ava, who smiled at her. “I . . .”

  “You can tell them,” Ava said.

  “I was a real asshole when he and Ava started dating,” Fran said. “I thought he was too old. I mean, the diamonds and big parties. That red velvet dress. He showered you with all that money all at once.”

  “That was just because he wanted me to go to the auction for one of his pieces,” Ava said.

  “I know that now,” Fran said. “But then, I thought he was turning you into some doll for him to play with. It made me really angry. And I t
old him so. I threatened to file a grievance against him. And then . . .”

  “They’ve brokered peace,” Ava said.

  “How?” Bob asked.

  “He was really great when Beth was killed,” Fran said. “And then everything fell apart for Ava. Her father was arrested. Her family lost their home. I could see how much he genuinely cared about Ava. So . . . I let him off the hook.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “So, no, I don’t have a crush on O’Malley, but I do respect him,” Fran said.

  Fran nodded.

  “Okay, back to Ava,” Bob said.

  “Did you have a crush on Delgado, too?” Leslie asked.

  “He always seemed a little too playboy for me,” Ava said. “Super handsome, slick hair, always seemed a little . . . like my dad.”

  “Ew,” Leslie said.

  No one said anything for a moment.

  “I guess, on some level, I always knew my dad was a scuz,” Ava said.

  The team nodded.

  “To Ava’s dad,” Fran held up her glass. “If you weren’t such a scuz, we wouldn’t be a team.”

  They held their glasses up and cheered, “To the scuz!” They laughed.

  “So was he?” Nelson asked. “Hot Delgado? Was he a scuz like your dad?”

  “Not really,” Ava said. “At least according to O’Malley. Mitch was in love with Maresol but was too afraid to have what he wanted, so he acted out. At least, that’s what Mitch’s son Charlie says. O’Malley says that Delgado’s sex-god act was to cover for being so sick.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Alright, playing devil’s advocate,” Bob said. Ava nodded. “I think we can agree that this re-trial hinges on the fact that Seth and Mitch ‘just figured it out’ about the Cigarette Killer.”

  Ava nodded.

  “Did they find some stooge and pin all of the murders on him?” Bob asked.

  “Did someone else?” Ava asked.

  “Big Daddy,” Fran repeated what she’d said before.

  “What about the murders Seurat bragged about?” Nelson asked. “The transcripts were printed in the Denver Post. I read them online.”

  “They played the interrogation tapes at the conference,” Leslie said. “Seurat’s clear, calm, cool, and seriously proud of his brilliance. If anything, O’Malley and Delgado look more than a little freaked out by what he’s saying.”

  “Was it scripted?” Bob asked.

  “If it was scripted, O’Malley and Delgado should get Oscars,” Nelson said.

  “What if just one of them was dirty?” Fran asked. “This new filing says that Delgado is the one the killer was terrified of.”

  “Oh, so it’s the dead one that did the intimidating,” Ava said. “It’s a little convenient, don’t you think?”

  “No question. It’s convenient!” Fran said. “That doesn’t change that this is a key part of their argument.”

  Ava nodded.

  “If Mitch intimidated Seurat, I didn’t see it,” Leslie said. “At one point, Delgado gets sick. I mean, we know that he had Sarcoidosis. Seurat went on and on about what he did to this one couple. He tortured this couple while he made their two-year-old daughter watch. The guy joked that he would be the monster in this kid’s mind for the rest of her life.”

  “Delgado’s daughter, Sissy, would have been about that age,” Ava said.

  “Exactly,” Leslie said. “Delgado freaked out, ended up throwing up in the corner. They took a break after that. When they left the room, the guy smirked at the camera like a fighter who’d won the last round. Asshole.”

  “What did they say about . . .?” Fran asked and waved her hand.

  “Who?” Leslie asked.

  “Whoever was leading the conference,” Fran said.

  “FBI Spam-a-licious,” Leslie said.

  Forensic Team leader Special Agent Stan A. Lithus had picked up the nickname “Spam-a-licious” in response to his tendency to send random email for products he was selling to the entire FBI forensic email list. Everyone connected to the FBI forensics list, which was basically the entire forensics community throughout the world, called him “Spam-a-licious” or “Spammy” for short. Their faces shifted to somewhere between irritated and disgusted.

  “What did Spammy say?” Bob asked.

  “He stopped the video on Seurat’s face and said that he was a classic psychopath,” Leslie said. “And I’ll tell you — I mean, I was in the hallway when Ava was talking to O’Malley — Seth’s right. Seurat was seriously proud of what he’d done to these people. Not just the couple with the two-year-old. Every single person he’d tortured and murdered.”

  “Is it possible he’s insane?” Ava asked.

  “Not according to Spam-a-licious,” Leslie said.

  They fell silent.

  “We just heard how Ava chose this case,” Fran said. “Not her experience of the trial or any of the rest of it.”

  “Spammy’s going to want you polygraphed,” Leslie said with a nod.

  Everyone nodded.

  “He’ll have to do it tomorrow,” Ava asked. “Add it to tomorrow’s nightmares.”

  “If we don’t do it tonight, Spammy will get the jump on us,” Bob said. “Probably drag you out of breakfast.”

  “I don’t have anything to hide,” Ava said.

  “Everyone says that, and then . . .” Bob said.

  “In this case, I’m too tired to do it tonight, and I was ten years old, maybe eleven, when I first heard about the case,” Ava said with a shrug. “And anyway, I didn’t know O’Malley then, so they can’t make a case out of it with him. Beth’s dead.”

  She looked up from staring at her bourbon and shrugged. Her team gave her kind looks and nods.

  “So . . . I have to take tomorrow as it comes,” Ava said. She paused and then looked at Fran. “Does your ex-husband’s cousin still work CSI in New York City?”

  “Second to the head,” Fran said. “Why?”

  “I’m wondering if we can get DNA from Seurat’s wife,” Ava said.

  “Illegal search and seizure?” Bob asked.

  “No,” Leslie said. “According to Spammy, she’s from one of those big crime families.”

  “I’d bet the Major Crimes has DNA from everyone in the family,” Ava said. “If not, they probably have it from someone close enough to her for us to match it.”

  “To what?” Nelson asked.

  “Seurat’s new DNA,” Ava said. “If he did the bone-marrow transplant under the radar, then she’s probably involved. We should try to figure out what her end game is.”

  “You don’t think it’s love?” Leslie asked.

  “Have you seen him?” Ava asked.

  “Seurat?” Nelson asked. “Gross.”

  “He’s practically typecast as a creep,” Ava said.

  “Which would give credence to the idea that he wasn’t the killer,” Bob said.

  “What?” Ava asked.

  “Typecasting,” Bob said. “He looks the part.”

  Ava gave him a long nod. Thinking through what had been said, they fell quiet. A few minutes later, they were arguing about which movie to watch. They landed on West Side Story. They sang and laughed their way through the movie. Fran was the first to defect. Nelson followed shortly after. Bob left when the movie was over. Leslie and Ava sat on the couch.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Leslie asked.

  “Why?” Ava asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Leslie said. “When I was in high school, I dated this guy. He worked two jobs to save for college. I was so in love. Everyone told me that he was cheating on me. I didn’t believe them.”

  Leslie fell silent and nodded.

  “What happened?” Ava asked.

  “I married him when we graduated from the college,” Leslie said.

  Having expected Leslie to tell her that the guy had cheated, Ava laughed.

  “The thing he was doing that everyone thought was cheating?” Leslie asked. “He was working nig
hts on cleanup at the labs so he could pay for my college, too.”

  “So sweet,” Ava said.

  “My point is that, no matter what anyone says, no one knows Seth better than you,” Leslie said. “Do you think he did this thing? Manipulated the situation so that this innocent man was found guilty?”

  Ava fell silent for a moment. She thought about everything she knew about Seth. She thought through his cadre of friends and associates. She focused on what she knew about those closest to him — Mitch, Maresol, Claire, Doctor Bumpy, and his daughter, Sandy.

  “Ava?” Leslie touched Ava’s leg.

  “No,” Ava said. “I can’t see it. Mitch and Seth . . . They were so successful. They just didn’t care if they caught another murder or solved another case. They didn’t need the ego boost. I mean, they were in the tunnels fighting the Vietnamese at seventeen years old. Seth has always had as much money as either of them could spend.”

  “And Mitch had access to Seth’s money?” Leslie asked.

  “Absolutely,” Ava said. “Sandy took over Seth’s money after Mitch died. She only did it as an attempt to keep Seth from killing himself with drugs. Before that, Seth tossed his money to the wind. If Seth had money, Mitch had money.”

  “And Seth had money,” Leslie said with a nod.

  “What leverage would make them push this guy into confessing?” Ava asked.

  “I see what you mean,” Leslie said. “And if it turns out that the doubters are right?”

  “I’ll cross that bridge if it comes to it,” Ava said.

  Leslie leaned over to kiss Ava’s cheek and got up. Leslie closed the door, and Ava leaned over to pick up the novel. She missed Seth with a desperation that surprised her. Rather than delve into her lovesick heart, she read until she fell asleep.

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  Nine

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  Seth sat up in bed and looked at the clock. 4:43 a.m. He heard R.J. get up from the fold-out bed in the living room.

  “Seth?” Melissa, Claire’s daughter, asked from the other bedroom.

  “Stay there,” Seth said.

  He got out of bed and went to the closet. He’d just pulled on a pair of jeans when the door to his room opened. R.J. stepped inside.