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Peter Santos was his first pick. Santos was an 18-year-old computer expert who started making six figures at age 10 writing gaming programs, only to see all of his money wiped out by his father’s bad investments. He quit writing programs until he could control his own money. But then love and a 5-year jail sentence put a hold on his dreams.
Peter had just come from a jail cell to an office with a dream computer system in the basement, which he could access by way of multiple workstations in his office and the conference room. Blake had no idea what the kid was doing, but two days later Peter said that within a few weeks, they would be able to track any murder that was reported in the United States, and they could go back as far as there was electronic information. Peter struck Blake as more of a free-spirited hippie than a computer nerd, but if the Feds were afraid of him, he must be damn good.
Profiler Mary Winehouse, age 36, was provided by Chuck Ward. She was widowed with no children, sexy in a librarian kind of way. Blake wondered what would happen if she let her hair down, but he thought that would never happen. Out of the entire team, she was his nerd. She was on loan from the FBI and said to be one of the best profilers they had. Mary and Peter would make a very odd couple indeed. They had the offices adjoining the conference room.
His forensics expert was another one found by Chuck. He was an instructor in pathology at the University of Minnesota. His name was Robert Rivers and he was the only black person on the team, which was something Blake wanted to change. While most serial killers were white males, a lot of minorities were their victims. Bob had been married two times, with a child from each marriage. He didn’t smoke or drink but he loved the ladies, and they returned the favor. All in all, he was a strange match for pathology, but everybody seemed to agree that Bob Rivers had rewritten the book on the subject and was so far ahead of everybody else that no one would catch up to him. He was given the office beyond the conference room and the stairwell.
As his second-in-command, Blake chose Taylor Manning, who took the first office Chuck had led Blake past on their tour. Taylor and Blake were close to the same age and had known each other for over 20 years. Taylor taught hand-to-hand combat at the police academy and was as tough as they come. After two surgeries on his back, he had taken early retirement. He was the only one on the team who was still married. As big and loud as Taylor was, his wife, Terry, was tiny and quiet. They had been married for 28 years but had no children of their own. They had adopted a son, Tad, who grew to worship Taylor and joined the police force after finding college boring. Tad and his partner were killed one night answering a domestic disturbance call. He had been on the job for less than six months.
Blake was working on bringing some foot soldiers on board also. As the end of October approached, he was still waiting to hear back from Wayne Roberts, Bobby Lee, and Shelley Adams.
Blake walked into the conference room and smiled at his new members, Mary, Peter, Bob, and Taylor. The four people in front of him weren’t a team at this point, but they were a start. It would be Blake’s job to make a team out of them – and the others who would join them.
The big monitoring screen on the wall behind the table was the natural center of focus, and the conference room would be the nerve center for every project from that day forward. Blake took his seat at the left end of the table, with Taylor to his right. Bob was next to Taylor and then Peter and Mary. As if a signal had been passed, Peter clicked a few keys and a map of the U.S. came onto the screen.
Blake opened the folder on the table in front of him and, gesturing to identical folders in front of everyone else, said, “I see some of you have been going through your folder. It documents our first case. Peter, will you punch up where the murders took place this year that we believe can be attributed to what I’m calling the ‘June Killer’.”
The cities of Charleston (West Virginia), Frankfort (Kentucky), Jefferson City (Missouri), Little Rock (Arkansas), and Memphis (Tennessee) lit up in red on the big map. More than one gasp could be heard around the table.
“Five cities with three killings in each one. Fifteen dead bodies this year, people.” Stone silence now pervaded the room, and its chill seemed to affect everyone.
Blake broke the loud silence. “We’re going to go over each one of these murders until we find something that’ll lead us to this bastard. Peter, show us the murder cities for last year.”
The cities of Columbia (South Carolina), Atlanta (Georgia), Montgomery (Alabama), Jackson (Mississippi), Baton Rouge (Louisiana), and Tallahassee (Florida) lit up in blue.
“Six cities last year, 18 bodies. He killed 18 people within a 2-week period. All the killings were in June both years and all within a 2-week window. I’m fairly sure one man did them all.”
Mary put up her hand.
Blake gestured for her to lower her hand. “There is no need to raise your hand. If you want to say something, come out with it. We’re all working on the same case and any input is welcome.”
“I was wondering if you had any idea why he only strikes in the month of June.”
“I’m hoping you will answer that for us.”
Mary felt a little uneasy around people. She dealt with facts and figures, normally alone in her office. This wasn’t to her liking. She wasn’t a team player. “I’ll come up with as much of a profile as I can. However, it will be based on what little information we have so far, and it will be subject to change. I interviewed with Ms. Warner but I was wondering, how do you plan to use me on this team? I hoped to be able to remain in the office and not be running all over the countryside.”
“You’re right. I don’t plan to have you go out in the field. The team is still coming together, and each member’s role will become clear as time moves along. You and Peter will be given the information we think you need to know. So, give us whatever profile you can put together now, Mary, and we’ll see what comes up.”
Blake held up his folder. “The three murder victims here in Memphis are the first ones we’ll be dealing with. They’re the freshest and may yield the best information to lead us to the killer. Bob, I want you to go over every detail. Find me something the local M.E. missed.”
Bob hesitated, then came out with: “If you’re right about this guy being a June killer, won’t he be finished for the year?”
“I believe he probably is. So, we have our work cut out for us if we want to stop him by next June.”
Taylor stood up to speak. “We’ll meet back here in Operations at 8:00 in the morning. Bob, you and I’ll go to the morgue then, and I’ll open that door for you. M.E. Keeler won’t be a happy soul to see us. From the morgue, we’ll send any new findings back to Peter and Mary.”
Blake stood and nodded. “I’ll see you all in the morning, here in Operations. Study that folder tonight; I want to hear some ideas tomorrow. Taylor, could you come by my office once you’ve finished here?”
“I’ll be there in a sec.”
Blake walked back to his office happy with the way the first meeting had gone. Everybody seemed to know why they were there and were ready to go to work.
He had barely sat down when Taylor stepped through his door. “What’s up?”
Blake was trying to come up with a way not to confront Morgan Keeler. “You know Morgan isn’t going to like us coming along behind him looking for something he missed. It won’t go over at all well with him.”
“He’ll just have to get over it.”
“That’s the problem. I know Morgan, and he will not get over it. You know he’s the one that was calling it a serial killing long before I was ready to go along with the idea. It might go down easier if my name didn’t come up. Let him think Homeland Security is sticking their nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
“What if he wants to speak to my boss?”
“Tell him you’ll pass it along. Just get what we need with as little pain as possible. I’m going to Germantown tomorrow. I sent them a request for information weeks ago. It’s time to kick down some doors.”
“You sure you don’t want me with you?”
“No, I’ve got it covered. Bob will need your support more than me.”
“Okay, but I’ll be a phone call away.”
“Thanks, Taylor. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Blake was finishing up some paperwork with his door open. Peter stuck his head in and said, “Hey boss, you need to come and see what I’ve found.”
Blake pushed back from his desk somewhat annoyed; he was ready for a drink and some peace and quiet. But he followed Peter to his office. “What do you have?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I have another serial killer.”
The thought rushed into Blake’s head, Shit, we’ve opened a can of worms! “I don’t understand. What do you mean, another serial killer?”
Peter fluttered his hands and smiled. “The software is learning, and the more data she downloads the better she’ll be at finding the overlooked clues that turn a simple murder case into one of a series of killings. No one else could do this. She’s beautiful.”
Blake had already learned that Peter thought of computers as female, but all Blake knew about them was how to turn his laptop on and enter a question. “Are you saying the computer won’t just tell us the information we want but will keep searching for new cases all by itself?”
“Yeah, and not just new cases! She’ll even track old cases that may not have been investigated as serial killings. But she’s starving! I’m gonna need more server space. We’ve only been up and running for two days and she’s already about out of space.”
Blake wasn’t sure whether he was happy or pissed at the new development. As a detective, he was happy to have the help, but sometimes too much information was worse than not enough. His team was small, a team that had yet to solve one case – what the hell would he do with ten or twenty?
Blake measured his words: “Print out the info on these other killings and we’ll review it tomorrow. Everybody else is gone and we need to call it a day too.”
He turned to walk back to his office, but then remembered his people skills. This kid could use some grooming, that was for sure. He turned to face Peter. “That’s some damn good work! Thank you.”
The look on Peter’s face was priceless; it was like he’d never had a compliment in his life.
| Copyright © 2019, 2020 by Ed Rogers |
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