by Hadena James
“Well we were right. She was in town for all the murders.” Lucas said to everyone as I reentered my hotel room.
“Somehow, she is involved.” Alejandro frowned at me, but then I got the impression he didn’t smile much, so I didn’t get offended.
“Somehow she knows who it is,” Lucas sat down.
“Thesis advisor?” Xavier asked.
“Female, Dr. Janice DeLong. She accepted my dissertation because it was too good to reject, but she wasn’t real happy when it started evolving. She is one of those historians that would gloss over the dirty sides of history.”
“Grad students?”
“Several. None that stick out.”
“Undergrads?” Xavier continued.
“I tutored in English during my undergrad days. As a grad student, I worked for the history department as an assistant. Most of the students hated me, I was the one they hoped didn’t grade their papers.”
“How many total?”
“Estimation? Several thousand. I helped with basic European history as well as several of the advanced European history classes. Even did a semester as an assistant in an undergrad thesis class. They really hated me. Hence why it only happened one semester.”
“How many enemies do you think you have?” Lucas asked.
“True enemies, very few. Students that hated me for grading their homework, thousands. Maybe tens of thousands. I was an unpopular teacher’s assistant.”
“Why’d they keep you?”
“Because while the students hated me, the professors loved having me as their assistant.”
“That seems weird and counterproductive,” Xavier said.
“Not really. I was the assistant that would take home 40 or 50 papers and grade them all in a weekend. Most of them would set amounts I could take off for grammar and spelling, knowing those were my pet peeves.”
“Anyone else?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a people person. I notice them when they seem out of place. I notice stalkers. Everyone else is just a flash in the pan for me. I barely knew the grad students I shared an office with.” I shrugged again.
“Yeah, I get it,” Lucas let out a long sigh again, “Your brain catalogues faces and names, but unless they come at you with a knife, the information is unnecessary, so it is hard to access.”
“Exactly. Now if any of them had really hated me, I might remember them, but none stand out.”
“None of this is useful,” Alejandro said.
“Sure it is,” Xavier countered. “We know who it isn’t.”
“Yes, but we are talking about a serial killer and we are talking about one that is incredibly smart. He could have met her in line for coffee and became fascinated.” Alejandro pointed out.
“There was a guy like that, sort of. I was grading papers one weekend and it was close to summer. I had gotten in the habit of forcing myself to go to the Chinese place down the street once a week. I was walking in the door, he was walking out. Ended up covered in Orange Glazed Chicken and fried rice.”
“How did you end up covered in Orange Glazed Chicken and Fried Rice?” Lucas prodded.
“He dumped both cartons on me. I ran into him, smashing the boxes. He opened up the bag and dumped them on my head. The cartons kind of hurt. The food was really hot.”
“That sounds like someone with very low impulse control. Did you ever see him again?”
“No. I stopped going to the Chinese place too. I do not like Orange Glazed Chicken or fried rice.”
“Anyone who cannot control their emotions that much, doesn’t sound like our guy,” Lucas gave another sigh.
“Look it has to be someone who either is a professional historian or archaeologist or an amateur expert in the field. Maybe an anthropologist, but it’s unlikely.”
“Why?” Alejandro asked.
“Because you don’t wake up one morning and decide to order Iron Maidens to get my attention.”
“Why?” Alejandro repeated.
“Because as fascinating as they are, think about the effort involved. It took Lucas to move them and even he struggled with the effort. They are heavy. They are cumbersome. They are expensive.”
“They are expensive,” Alejandro agreed.
“Using medieval means, how would you torture someone?” I asked everyone in the group.
“Burn at the stake.” Alejandro chimed.
“That’s what I was going to say,” Michael chided.
“Ducking stool.” Xavier piped in.
“Press,” Lucas answered.
“Thumb screws,” Gabriel added.
“See what I mean? You all picked methods of torture you learned about during the Salem Witch Trials portion of your high school history class. The only one actually meant to be lethal is burning at the stake. The others were used to get confessions out of suspected witches or to test if they were a witch. The average person doesn’t know about Iron Maidens and Scavenger’s Daughters. You say ‘impaling’ they say ‘Dracula’. You say ‘drawing and quartering,’ they stare at you open mouthed. You say ‘Iron Maiden or Scavenger’s Daughter’ and most just scratch their heads. They may know what an Iron Maiden is, but most think it looks like the five we have. And the Scavenger’s Daughter… They are going to be like Xavier, after they have seen it; they’ll call it the ‘hoop thingy’. The average person doesn’t know about torture. They only know recent history and whatever they retained from high school.”
“My high school never taught us about Iron Maidens,” Xavier answered.
“That’s the point. It has to be someone who knows the time period. It could be a torture enthusiast, but…” I stopped. It could be a torture enthusiast. It was like any other fetish on the planet. Maybe not the drawing and quartering, but the others fit.
“The drawing and quartering was done first?” I asked.
“Yes.” Alejandro gave me a look.
“And they were the only ones that were sexually assaulted?” I frowned.
“Before death.” Xavier confirmed, “but they were definitely the only ones.”
“Why?” I frowned harder.
“We don’t know.” Lucas admitted.
“Have we considered the possibility that it is a woman?” I looked at each of them.
“No,” Alejandro said. “Women do not sexually assault other women.”
“Normally they don’t,” Lucas corrected.
“Ok, so they don’t normally sexually assault other women, but impaling is sexual assault. Penetration is penetration. The Iron Maiden and Scavenger’s Daughter isn’t sexual though.” I said all of it slowly.
“You think it was a woman who realized she didn’t have the stomach for the sexual assault?” Lucas asked.
“I think it’s a theory we should explore.” I shrugged. “The first set was sexually assaulted while alive with implements. The second with the stakes. For whatever reason, it isn’t working for them. So, if it is a male, why no sexual assaults on the maiden or Scavenger’s Daughter? If it is female, that explains it.”
“Why?” Xavier asked.
“I don’t know,” I looked at him.
“Because when it first started, she thought the sexual assaults would fulfill some need. When they didn’t, she abandoned it.” Lucas stated.
“And moved to more sophisticated methods of torture.” I finished.
“The progression is important to you,” Lucas said.
“It isn’t to you?” I looked at him.
“For me, it shows escalation. What does it say to you?”
“Sophistication of torture doesn’t say escalation of torture; it says they know what they are doing. Hangmen don’t put people on racks, they hang people. Torturers don’t hang people, they torture. And there are different types of torturers. Some tortured for information. Some for punishment. Those that tortured for information used different methods than those for killing. Our killer crossed those lines by usin
g the Scavenger’s Daughters, it can kill, but that wasn’t the intention of their creation. But our killer used it as such. That requires skill and knowledge of all sorts of torture. To me, it doesn’t say escalation, it says variation. And both the maiden and scavenger were built ahead of time.”
“You’re going somewhere with this, I’m just not sure I follow.” Lucas leaned against the dresser and frowned at me. I left the room, back to the balcony. I smoked another cigarette while I thought.
Chapter 25
