“Regarding Banks—we already have a theory as to why her stabbing is slightly different. The killer cut her initially from behind when he grabbed her.”
Jim nodded. “That’s consistent with the report.”
Matt continued. “I asked Catherine to give you all a rundown on the person we’re looking for—a basic profile. I’ve already filled her in on the new information about Anne Banks, the first victim, and her connection to not only Spokane, but Spokane General, where Victoria Manners worked.”
Catherine said, “The information I received three years ago was incomplete. I’ve been going through everything that we have from then and now, and we still have some big holes, though the information about Anne Banks is extremely valuable.” She cleared her throat and picked up a coffee mug, took a sip. “I’ve spent last night and today reviewing all the files I do have and confirming information. I’ll put that together in a formal report and send it to you, Matt, but to get you started I’ll go through the problems and tell you where we are.”
Catherine gave a rundown on information they already knew about the first six victims and how she connected them, but as she spoke it became clear that she was leading them toward the pattern. Nurse. Educator. Cop. They hadn’t seen it before because they didn’t have the background on Anne Banks, and had only begun to suspect it yesterday—but now it was clear.
She detailed the type of personality they were looking for: high-functioning, intelligent, introverted, but not openly antisocial.
“He waits an unusually long time between his triple murders,” Catherine said. “We call this a cooling-off period, but it’s more than that for him. He’s methodical, disciplined, extremely organized. We have always assumed that his victims are random, and they appear to be random, but it’s important to understand that they are not random, not to the killer. He has a specific motive for choosing his victims. It is irrelevant that they are different genders, different ages, different races. This has bothered me for some time, because serial murderers generally have a defined victim pool. Prostitutes, for example. Or homeless men. Or young blonde women. And generally, serial murderers will both build up to murder and have an identifiable tipping point, something specific that set them off, that made them ‘snap’ for lack of a better word...though they haven’t truly mentally snapped.”
“So he’s not crazy,” Michael said.
“I can’t say with any confidence what his mental state is,” Catherine said, sounding more like a lawyer than a doctor. “But I would deduce, even considering that I haven’t interviewed him, that he is completely sane.”
“Where’s his home base?” Kara asked.
Matt glanced at her. He hadn’t forgotten she was in the room, but he hadn’t expected her to speak up. Why, he didn’t know—Kara didn’t seem to be a person to keep her mouth closed if she had an opinion or observation.
“I don’t understand the question,” Catherine said.
“Well, he killed in three different cities. Does he move to one city, find a place to live, get a job, stalk his victims, kill and leave? Or does he come in for a short time, a month or so, to target his victims, kill them, then go back to wherever he comes from?”
“That’s a good question,” Catherine said. “I don’t have an answer. I will go out on a limb and suggest that he’s been in town—if not for the three years since the last murders, at least for a few weeks. He definitely stalks his victims, knows where they’re going to be and when they’ll be there. To be able to kill seven people so violently, so brazenly, he is confident that they will be alone.”
Matt made a note to follow up on rentals, but he didn’t think that was going to help—there had to be hundreds, or thousands, and no central database. Still, they could contact property companies for male renters within the last three years.
Jim spoke up. “I think it’s relevant that none of the victims fought back, except one of the male victims.” He glanced at his notes. “The off-duty cop in Missoula had blunt force trauma to his head, otherwise, no signs of physical violence.”
“Sedatives?” Michael asked.
“Nothing has been conclusive so far,” Jim said. “But we’re rushing the tox screen on Manners and should have results by the end of the day. My guess is it’ll be a common sedative, but the dosage he uses is particularly potent leading to an immediate loss of consciousness. Possibly fentanyl, which acts quickly and in high dosages can be deadly. Unfortunately, not all victims were given broad tox screens. We’re covering every base with Manners.”
“Does that mean he has a medical background?” Matt asked.
When Jim didn’t answer, Catherine said, “No—he could learn what he needs on the internet. But how does he get close enough that these people don’t consider him a threat? Remember—Anne Banks was running through the park with her infant when she was killed.”
“Why March 3?” Kara asked.
Silence fell.
“Well,” Catherine said, “that’s the million-dollar question. The date is significant to him, and the number three. I keep coming back to March 3. Violence done to him or to someone close to him—someone very close, like a parent or sibling. But this is important—he would have exhibited sociopathic signs as a teenager.”
“Isn’t that a contradiction?” Jim asked. “If he’s a sociopath, would he have that close of a connection to anyone, even as a teen?”
“Yes—sociopaths are not purely those who don’t feel normal emotions. Sometimes, they feel too much emotion, and they shut everything down in order to function. I don’t think that’s this killer—he’s too methodical. But that doesn’t mean he can’t feel for someone he bonded with as a young child.”
“If three’s important to him,” Matt said, “why does he slice each victim exactly four times?”
“Four?” Catherine hesitated. “Oh—I see. I’m looking at only the three horizontal marks, none of which were necessary to achieve death. The vertical cut on each victim is the cause of death—the other three are his personal signature, for lack of a better word. That’s the three. The initial cut is to kill. But all this shows that he has complete control—slice the victim down the middle to ensure that they die, then three cuts across the body. Three is key. Three events, three people, three cuts. But I don’t know why.”
Catherine flipped through papers. “As I said to you before, Matt, if you have the time and resources to pursue it, it would help to dig deeper on all the victims. But the first victim is personally important to the killer. I’m pleased you found so much information about Anne Banks so quickly.”
“You lit a fire under my ass,” Matt said.
“Hardly necessary since you don’t sleep,” Catherine replied. It was phrased as a compliment but sounded like a slight.
Matt decided to ignore it. He asked, “Is the Triple Killer disciplined enough to wait that long to enact revenge?”
“Revenge—why do you say that?” Catherine asked.
“Because that’s what it feels like. Revenge, punishment for a perceived crime. Justice not done.”
“First—yes, he could wait a long time to enact revenge, especially if the trigger occurred when he was a child or young adult. Second, you may be right and this is revenge, but then I would think the victims themselves would be more connected—something we would have already seen, beyond occupation. Likely, it’s more the victims are surrogates for someone he wants to kill, but can’t. Someone who did him wrong, in his mind.”
“So—punishment,” Kara said. “Either the person who wronged him or a surrogate. Still reads like revenge any way you slice it.”
Catherine didn’t say anything, but a tiny twitch in her neck told Matt she wasn’t particularly happy with Kara’s blunt pronouncement. Probably because it lacked Catherine’s class and nuance—though that didn’t make it any less true.
Ryder said, “Sir, it’s three-fifteen�
��you need to meet with Chief Packard in fifteen minutes.”
Matt needed more. “Anything else, Catherine? Anyone? I’m meeting with the press soon. I need to give them something without tipping our hand.”
Silence all around. This wasn’t going to help.
“Anyone,” Matt said. “We’re running out of time.”
Catherine spoke first. “Keep tabs on the audience. I guarantee he’s following the news on this investigation. Fifty-fifty, he’ll show up at a press briefing if he’s in the area. Zero chance if it’s indoors or sparsely attended. But if there are a lot of people, he may come to watch. If he doesn’t, he’ll watch it on TV or online or read about it in the paper. He’ll want to know everything about what the police are doing, what they’ve found—and he’ll crave more.”
Matt glanced at Kara. Out of all of them, she looked the least like a cop.
As if she’d read his mind, she said, “I’ll do it.”
“Do what?” Catherine asked.
“Work the crowd. Blend in. Assess the audience. I know what you want.”
“Thanks,” Matt said.
“I have a question,” Kara said.
“Ask.”
Ryder tapped his watch and pointed at Matt. Matt nodded—he knew they were on the clock, but Kara had insight that had already proven valuable to the investigation.
“What happens if we screw with his pattern?”
“Explain,” Catherine said.
“He kills on specific days. What if his intended target is unavailable? Or has a friend over? Or goes out of town? Does he pick another victim? Does he kill the friend? Does his head explode because his pattern is fucked-up?”
Matt hadn’t thought of that—he was focused on simply finding and stopping the predator. “What do you think, Catherine?”
“It’s an interesting question. I think it depends on whether the individuals he picks are representative of the person he wants to kill—such as if Victoria Manners was chosen specifically, or simply chosen because she was a nurse. If he’s targeting occupations, then yes, I think he’ll find another victim. He may have a backup in mind, or he’ll grab someone who fits his criteria. Definitely a greater chance that he’ll screw up at that point because it goes against his established plan. But if the victims are personal, then he could have some sort of psychotic breakdown. If he can’t complete his pattern, then I can’t predict how he’ll respond. He’ll certainly go after his intended victim, but there could be collateral damage—friends, family, colleagues—or he could change his MO, such as the weapon he uses.”
“So we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t,” Jim said.
“Not necessarily,” Catherine said. “If you throw him off his game in any way—take one of his would-be victims off the playing field—he’ll react. Until now, he’s been driving the train, so to speak. He plans and executes his plan. He is in control. He is acting—the police are reacting. You make him react to something he’s not expecting, he’ll reveal himself—either intentionally or accidentally. Just be careful, Matt—once his pattern is destroyed, he can and will do anything to achieve his goal.”
“Which is?” Kara asked.
“You said it earlier, Matt, that this feels like revenge. Maybe retribution, or punishment for past crimes or perceived crimes. So even if his pattern is interrupted, he’s going to continue down the same path. Nurse. Teacher. Cop. Watch yourselves, please.”
Matt heard the emotion in Catherine’s voice, though she tried to conceal it.
“Matt—be careful with this guy,” Catherine reiterated.
“Catherine, I have some ideas on what to say at the briefing, I’ll call you while I’m driving.”
He nodded for Ryder to disconnect the calls.
“That was enlightening,” Andy said.
“Andy,” Matt said, “get one of your people to put together a list of every teacher, substitute, principal, or administrator in the Spokane Valley.”
Everyone stared at him.
“What? Isn’t there a master list somewhere? The state’s Department of Ed? The local school boards? Anything?”
“I suppose.”
“I don’t want to lose someone else. This is the closest we’ve gotten to this bastard’s pattern in advance of his next murder. I want to throw a wrench in his plans. Get the teacher list and everyone you can to start calling with personal warnings. If they don’t watch the news, we need to reach them somehow. Door-to-door will take too long.”
Matt turned to Kara. “I can tell you’re carrying. If you’re going to blend, you can’t carry. It’ll peg you as a cop.”
“I promise,” she said with a smile, “you won’t be able to pick me out of the crowd.”
He doubted that.
18
Spokane
3:50 p.m.
Matt sent Michael to track down the public information officer and make her his other best friend while he waited for Chief Packard.
And waited. The press conference was inching closer, and Matt needed Packard on the same page. He was going out on a limb with what he planned to do, but if Catherine was right and the killer would say or do something to reveal himself if his victim were taken away, he had to try.
Because they had next to nothing, and the clock was ticking.
Matt was used to getting the shaft from local law enforcement, but he’d been emboldened and optimistic after the reception he’d received from Andy Knolls and Brian Maddox. Packard reminded him that every department—and every cop—was different.
Fortunately, he had plenty of work to do while he waited. He sent Andy a message:
Can you run property records on that Newman Lake house? Go back as far as you can. Our profiler is wondering if there is something important or special about the house, at least to the killer.
It was ten to four by the time Chief Packard walked up to where Matt waited outside his office. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” He shook Matt’s hand and motioned for him to join him in his office.
Sorry my ass.
The trappings of the office bordered on ostentatious egotism. Plaques, photo ops, commendations, framed medals. It wasn’t the awards per se that bugged Matt, it was the display—lights highlighting the more prestigious awards, pictures of Packard with politicians, including four different presidents in two political parties. No family, no friends, no fishing expeditions or hunting trips. Half a minute and Matt had a profile of the guy. No wonder he petitioned the city council to extend his term. He was nothing without his job. Matt wondered if he’d once been a good cop—hence the commendations—but as he saw his own mortality and retirement looming, he clung too tightly to the past.
Matt might be looking at himself twenty years from now—but that would still be twenty years from now.
“I know you’re busy,” Matt said, using his most professional and conciliatory tone, “but I need to talk to you before the press briefing about the article in the paper.”
“You should have called me directly about the briefing, not gone through Maddox.”
Matt was having a difficult time containing his temper. “Sir, we’ve been working eighteen-hour days since I arrived, and I apologize if I’m not up to speed on your jurisdictional protocols.”
“Maddox said you have a statement. I’ve called in print, radio, and television. There are also two neighborhood watch organizations who are concerned—that’s why I was late. I met with the groups. The public should be concerned. They need to be diligent to protect themselves and their families.”
“This killer has a very specific agenda. We’ve been here for two days. We don’t have all the information we need, but we have a lot more than we did when he hit in Montana three years ago. Our top profiler briefed my team an hour ago on several key facts, which has led us to finding a connection between the first victim in Portland and the most r
ecent victim, Ms. Manners.”
“You had an internal briefing and didn’t include me?”
“Sir, with all due respect, you’re missing the point here. Someone in your department leaked information to the press without vetting it through me.”
“Agent Costa, you are making an unverifiable leap that it was my department that spoke to the press. You’ve also been working with Detective Knolls and Liberty Lake. And a detective from LA has been riding along with Knolls. You have the FBI all over town, and a not-so-discreet search of the lake. It seems to me that any number of people could have leaked information to the press. Perhaps if you had been more forthcoming from the beginning there wouldn’t be this need to play catch-up.”
Matt knew it was the chief, the way he averted his eyes, cast blame everywhere but himself. But if Matt called him on it, he would be cut out of all resources and lives were on the line. Swallowing his anger, he said as calmly as possible, “I informed your office as soon as I was assigned this case. My team is newly formed, but we’re working day and night to stop this guy.”
“Everything goes through me, understood? You want to brief my men, you talk to me. You want to use my crime lab, you talk to me first. I found out secondhand that the head of my lab went to Liberty Lake to process evidence retrieved by your diver.”
So that’s what it came down to. Power. The chief wanted to be the damn gatekeeper. Where was Maddox and his promise to fix the situation? But if this was the way Matt got what he needed, so be it. “Understood,” Matt said. “On one condition—you make it clear to your people that no one talks to the press without consulting me. We have to be careful about what we release.”
Packard nodded. “Do you have a statement for this afternoon?”
“Yes. It’s a well-crafted statement to prompt both public diligence and let the killer know that we’re close.”
“Are you close?”
“No.” Matt hated to admit that they didn’t have a handle on the guy. Knowing the profile was not knowing who this bastard was. “However, we believe that the first victim—Anne Banks—was a personal target. She worked at Spokane General, where Victoria Manners also worked. I have an associate in the audience who is going to watch the crowd. There’s one thing I want to keep in-house.”
The Third to Die Page 15
