Casanova Killer, An SSCD Crime Thriller

by Tallulah Grace

“Nate Banks, meet Ethan Barnes.” Dylan leaned back against the plush sofa, determined to take full advantage of the luxury while it was available.

  Ethan raised his coffee cup to Nate. “Pleasure. Thanks for letting me join your investigation.”

  Nate nodded, appreciating the fact that Barnes respected his position, even though both men knew that the decision to bring him in was out of Nate’s hands.

  “Glad you could join us. Morning Jerry. How’s everything?”

  “Couldn’t be better, Boss.” She knew Nate was really asking if she was comfortable with Ethan.

  “Good. Okay, Barnes, tell us what you know.”

  “You have the file, so you know the basics.” Ethan began. “As far as we know, Casanova began killing in Central London, ten months ago.”

  Jerry listened attentively as Ethan recapped the basics, adding his impressions of the killer, and outlining Interpol’s efforts for identifying Casanova. She was captivated by his melodious tone and lilting accent, despite the horrendous crimes he was describing. As he spoke, she tried to place his home country without success. His speech contained hints of Australia, with an overtone of something exotic. As his file had not included background information, prior to his joining Interpol, she’d just have to find out on her own.

  “So, you’ve been mingling with the rich and famous, hoping this guy will fall in your lap. Meanwhile, he jumped over here and started killing our women.” Dylan knew he sounded surly, but he didn’t care. Ethan Barnes rubbed him the wrong way.

  “Not exactly, but I can understand why you might take that approach.” Ethan remained unruffled, smoothly turning Dylan’s insult back on him. “His last victim, Carolina Agave, was one of my informants. I approached her because she fit his profile to the letter, and I wanted her to be on guard.” Ethan lowered his eyes and took a sip of cold coffee. “The night before she was killed, she left me a message describing a new man, who had struck up a conversation with her, that evening, at a local nightclub. Her lover had not accompanied her, she was out with a few friends.”

  Ethan paused briefly and took a deep breath. No one interrupted him. “I didn’t get the message until the next day. As soon as I received it, I called round to her flat. According to a watchful neighbor, and a very hungry cat, she had not come home at all from the night before. We found her the next day, on the cliffs, just outside the city.”

  “What was the description?” Nate asked.

  “Tall, 6’3” or 6’4”, she thought. Caucasian, blond hair and dark brown eyes. British accent, but he looked like a Nordic God. Her words, not mine.”

  “That’s something to go on, at least, but he could easily change both his hair, and his eye color, if he thinks you’re onto him.” Jerry could tell that Ethan was disturbed by the story. Every instinct called for her to reach out to him, but she refrained.

  “He knew we were onto him, all right.” Ethan’s eyes darkened in anger. “Best we can figure, he overheard her leaving the message. She disappeared from the club, shortly after making the call, according to her friends, none of whom saw the man she met.” Ethan took another deep breath and continued. “From everything we know about his other kills, she was the only one he didn’t romance, for at least a week, before the murder. She also had defensive wounds on her arms. She put up a fight.”

  “What about surveillance at the club?” Dylan asked.

  “It was ultra-private, no surveillance whatsoever.”

  “If he overheard her phone call, he could track it from her cell. How do you know you’re not made?” Nate leaned closer to the screen, his face filling the monitor.

  “We used a disposable phone, I believe you call them burner phones. To answer your next question, I spoke with her, but she actually only ever met my partner. Any description she might have given him was of a petite, blond female she met at the gym.”

  “Where’s your partner now?” Dylan narrowed his eyes when he looked at Ethan.

  “She’s now a redhead on assignment in Ireland. We rarely work with the same team on consecutive cases.” Ethan explained. “She left the Riviera before we found Carolina’s body. I stayed for another month, but he never resurfaced anywhere in Europe.”

  Jerry warmed Ethan’s coffee, then passed him a muffin. “We’d already concluded that he romances his victims, but we don’t know if he exclusively selects mistresses. Is any wealthy brunette traveling in these elevated social circles fair game, or does he enjoy the power of taking another man’s woman?”

  “Thanks.” Ethan smiled. “I can’t say what he enjoys, but all of his victims have been in an exclusive relationship with a very wealthy, often married, man. I understand that the same holds true here.”

  “Yes,” Jerry began. “Two of the local victim’s companions are married, the other is just filthy rich.”

  “If he knows that the authorities were onto him in Europe, wouldn’t any new player with an accent, raise a red flag in San Francisco?” Dylan directed his question to Nate.

  “Possibly, but wealthy Europeans visit the city all the time. Casanova would need more information in order to make Ethan as an agent.” Nate quickly scanned a file. “Besides, his cover story is impeccable. What prompted you to spend the last few weeks in Greece? Did you have any leads at all?” Nate asked Ethan.

  “No leads, but I wanted to maintain my cover. I also spent time in Paris, prior to sailing the Mediterranean. I knew the bastard would resurface, I just didn’t think it would be in the states.”

  “His coming here is probably your best chance to catch him. It’s obvious that whatever you were doing in Europe wasn’t working.” Dylan stared at Ethan, practically daring him to argue.

  Jerry shot Dylan a pointed look, designed to get him to back off. “What Dylan means is that we work a little differently than Interpol. SSCD teams are trained to create a profile of the killer based on victimology, personality, and other identifying characteristics, such as their signature. Profiles help us reduce the number of available suspects, and sometimes, predict an unsub’s next move.”

  “The psychology of the killer is just as important to your group as the who, what, when, where and how.” Ethan nodded. “I can see where that would be helpful. Have you profiled Casanova?”

  “Partially. The socio-economic patterns of his victims tell us that he’s accustomed to wealth, either through his business relationships, or his own social network. My guess is that he visibly has all the trappings; flashy car, nice clothes, and so on, or these women would not risk their current relationships. He’s educated, intelligent, and has the social skills necessary to fit in with the lifestyle.”

  “From everything we’ve learned so far, I’d say you were spot on. As adept as he is in infiltrating his victims’ social circles, he’s equally savvy about avoiding surveillance cameras or meeting friends of his targets.”

  “It’s hard to believe that, in this age of candid camera, he could be invisible.” Dylan stood, stretched, and headed for more coffee.

  “Just another indicator that he has enough money at his disposal to change his appearance, his vehicles, and his home base, at will. Add to that the fact that we discovered the bodies of most of his victims, long after he killed them. Any surveillance vids available were either erased, or destroyed, in the meantime. The only two exceptions are Carolina, and the woman found on the cliffs, two days ago, Jenna.” Ethan ran his hand through his hair. “All of the victims here have been discovered more quickly than his other kills, except Carolina. If we’ve any chance at surveillance footage, I’d say we work backwards, starting with Jenna Pierce.”

  “We’re already on it. For a socialite, Jenna led a relatively quiet life, from the bits and pieces we’ve unearthed so far. Her companion, John Meadows, had taken his family on two-week vacation in the South of France. He returns home tomorrow. I spoke with him earlier this morning, but he knew little of Jenna’s daily routine. Our tech department is going over her credit card statements to try and form a pattern o
f her activities.”

  Jerry stood and began to pace, a sure sign that the wheels were turning. Ethan watched as she moved along the span of windows, openly admiring the unconscious grace with which she moved.

  “Three kills in less than a month doesn’t leave a lot of time for romancing his victims, even if he’s working more than one at a time. He’d have to stalk them before hand, at least a little, to find the perfect intro into their lives.” Jerry had no idea of the picture she made as she paced.

  “He did disappear for two months. He could have been stalking them during that time, now he’s picking them off, one by one.” Dylan added as he surreptitiously watched Ethan watch Jerry. He didn’t like the gleam in the other man’s eye.

  “You think he made a list, now he’s working it? It’s plausible, but that means that he could strike again, sooner than we initially calculated.” Nate’s phone buzzed as he spoke.

  “I’d say the scenario is more than plausible, it’s highly likely. Serials do not typically go dormant, unless they’re dead or in prison. He had to be getting his kicks, even if he was only planning, and stalking.” Jerry stopped and looked out the window, in the direction of the bridge. “Stalking and creating a list could also be part of his process. How sure are you that he was in London for the entire six months when the bodies were found?” She turned to face Ethan. “Could he have already been on the Riviera, stalking his next group?”

  “Absolutely, even if he flew over for a few days at a time. It’s only a little over one thousand kilometers between Portofino and London. The four bodies were strewn on the cliffs between Portofino and San Remo, but he met Carolina in a Portofino night club, so we think that was his base.”

  “If this holds true, he’s already “dating” his next victim, maybe even the next two.” Jerry started pacing again. “We need to get me on that list.”

  “Jimmy should have a game plan for us by lunch today. Dylan, I need you to begin re-interviewing friends and neighbors. Check your email for the list.” Nate looked straight at Ethan, but spoke to Jerry. “Jerry, you and Ethan spend the morning getting to know each other. When you appear in public, you have to be convincing.”

  Ethan read between the lines of Nate’s message. ‘Hands Off, Keep it Professional’ came through loud and clear. Jerry didn’t seem to notice the innuendo, so Ethan nodded once at Nate to show he understood. What in the hell did these Americans think he was? Ethan thought. Between Dylan’s barely disguised animosity, and Nate’s private warning, the two men must think him as bad as Casanova.

  “Will do, Boss. Thanks.” Jerry smiled at Nate’s face on the monitor as she turned.

  Dylan switched off the television and searched his email for names and addresses. “Looks like I’ll be in the neighborhood most of the day. Call me if you need anything.” He, too, addressed Jerry but stared at Ethan.

  “Sure, sure. We’ll be fine. Come back by for lunch, if you like. The fridge is stocked.” Jerry stopped pacing long enough to say goodbye to Dylan.

  “I may do that. Barnes.” Dylan’s unsmiling nod was a warning in itself.

  Ethan was glad to see the man go. His attitude was beginning to get under his skin. After a long flight, and even longer few months, being scrutinized by Dylan Dawes was the last thing he needed. Turning his attention to Jerry, he leaned back, letting himself admire the focus and energy she was already devoting to this case. He could practically see her brain spinning as her long legs ate up the floor. Ethan’s mind was moving almost as fast as Jerry’s appeared to be, only his thoughts centered on her, not the case.

  Damn, had he ever seen such a beautifully enigmatic creature? Everything about her spoke of quality, but he’d sensed the fire inside of her. Hell, he’d almost been burned by it.

  Remembering the touch of her skin, he felt his own begin to tingle. What the hell was happening to him? No wonder Dawes and Nate were protective of her. If every man who met her had the same reaction he did, she had to be one special woman.

  And what about Dawes? He’d assumed that Dylan’s attitude was due to him and Jerry being a couple, but they sure didn’t act like it. He’d never touched her, hardly ever looked at her, the whole time he’d been here. Could it be that they were just friends and partners, not lovers?

  “Tell me about the women in Europe.” Jerry’s demand broke through his musings, none too soon as far as he was concerned. He didn’t like the direction his thoughts were traveling.

  “What would you like to know?” He focused on her eyes; they were back to a bright shade of blue with hints of green, totally clear as she stopped and looked into his.

  “How did they dress, how did they wear their hair, how did they carry themselves?” Jerry began pacing again. “Were they classy, slutty or something in-between?”

  “Primarily classy, but not stuffy. Their wardrobes were the edgy side of couture; I guess you’d say they dressed appropriately for their age. Each of the women had long brown hair, similar to yours.” But nowhere near as beautiful, he thought. “Each woman was strikingly beautiful, as are you.” Ethan stopped before he said too much. He wouldn’t have her thinking he was already smitten, even if he did feel like a love-struck puppy.

  Jerry blushed, but turned away from him to hide it. He thinks I’m beautiful, she thought, then swiftly brushed the thought away. She knew she was beautiful, hadn’t her looks been a curse for as long as she could remember? No one took her seriously growing up, she’d been fending off unwanted male attraction for as long as she could remember. Shuddering slightly, she pushed those thoughts away as well.

  “What did they do all day?” She asked. “When they weren’t busy entertaining their companions?”

  “They were all incredibly fit, but none belonged to the same gym, or used the same personal trainer. Aside from keeping themselves beautiful, they shopped.”

  “That’s it? No charity work, no hobbies, just shopping?” Jerry’s look of incredulity made him laugh.

  “That’s about it. Though they surely had other interests, but none that we’ve uncovered. One woman in England liked to paint, but for the most part they pampered themselves, when they weren’t trying to maintain their beauty.” Ethan stood, gathered the coffee cups, and went to the kitchen. “What would you do if you were in their shoes?”

  “I am in their shoes, sort of. But to answer your question, I would have to find some other way to stay busy. Maybe I’d travel.”

  “Not possible. Part of her job description is 24-7 availability. When he calls, she’s there.” Ethan came back in the room and moved to stand at the window, near Jerry.

  “You’re right. Okay then, I would at least find a hobby. Not painting, I can’t draw a straight line if my life depended on it. I love to read, so I could do that for part of the day. Maybe I’d take up needlepoint, or beading, or gardening. Who knows? I can’t imagine not being productive in some way.” Jerry glanced at Ethan, noticing that he’d stepped closer to her.

  “No idle hands for you, then?” His voice was softer than before, probably because he was suddenly so close.

  “No. What are you doing?” Jerry turned to face him, but didn’t step away. She believed in holding her ground, but she doubted she could move, even if she wanted to.

  “You heard Nate. We have to get comfortable with each other before we go out in public.” He stepped even closer, tilting her chin up with one long finger. “I think I’ll kiss you,” he murmured, his eyes boring into hers.

  “You think you’ll…” Jerry’s words disappeared as his lips met hers, gently, sweetly, with barely an ounce of pressure. As quickly as he touched her, he pulled back. His eyes, softer now, were nearly covered with long black lashes. Instantly dizzy, Jerry braced her hands on his waist to keep from falling.

  “Did you mind?” His eyes were smiling now, almost as if he could see the erotic images racing through her mind.

  “Only if you stop,” she told him and raised her lips to his. It’s just a kiss, she told her
self, even as he folded her in his arms, taking them both deeper. Swirls of light filled her head, competing with the fireworks she swore she heard in the background.

  Chapter Five

  “What time is he picking you up?” Kim’s voice came through the speaker as Sonja placed the phone on her dressing table.

  “He said one, so I have to hurry. He’s always so punctual.” She began smoothing moisturizer on her face.

  “Must be a British thing. Charlie couldn’t be on time if the house was on fire.” Kim sighed. “Where are you going today?”

  “He said to dress for an outdoor adventure, and to wear comfortable shoes, but he wouldn’t tell me where we’re going. There’re so many hiking trails around here that it could be anything.” Sonja inspected her nails as she waited for the moisturizer to soak into her face.

  “When’s Randall coming home? Aren’t you worried that he’ll find out about your English suitor, Mr. Wonderful?” Kim giggled.

  “He’ll be back on Friday, so I’m not worried. Besides, he’ll have to make nice with Charlotte before he sees me.” Satisfied that she could get by without a touch-up, she dropped her hands, and began applying color to her eyelids.

  “I know how that is. Charlie used to come straight to me, but now he always placates his wife first. Doesn’t matter to me, as long as he pays the bills.” Kim laughed.

  “I hear that.” Sonja’s laugh was like a child’s; high-pitched and free. “If I play my cards right with Oscar, I’ll be the one in the big house.”

  “Oscar. Who names their child Oscar?” Kim asked.

  “Old money, baby, that’s who. It’s a family name, handed down for generations to the first-born son. Along with all of that lovely green stuff. Or gold. Or whatever.” Sonja applied her face like a pro. Within minutes she stared back at the improved version in the dressing mirror. “He makes me feel like a princess. I really do like him, so much,” she confided.

  “You’re so lucky. Finding a young, rich, gorgeous man who isn’t already taken, or gay, is such a coup. When do I get to meet him, and does he have any friends?”

  “I know, right? It’s such a pleasure to be with someone close to my own age, no little blue pills for Oscar!” Sonja’s laugh rang through the phone line, sounding more genuine than she felt. Truth was, Oscar had not made a move towards the bedroom, but she couldn’t tell Kim that. His steamy kisses told her how attractive he found her, but that was the extent of their physical relationship. Perhaps today would be the day he took it to the next level. “Sorry, babe, I’ve gotta bolt. He’ll be here any minute, and I need to get dressed.”