Double Cross

Chapter 28

“ALEX, COME AND LOOK at this. It’s unbelievable. Actually, it’s insane. Look at this, will you?”

Bree was holding up something in a clear plastic evidence bag when I found her and Sampson on the stage of the main theater at the Kennedy Center. One whole side of the play’s set was charred black. Another dark patch on the floor showed where the actor Matthew Jay Walker had died in front of an audience of nearly a thousand.

I had assumed even before I got there that this was the same crazy perp as at the Riverwalk. Why else would Bree have called me?

“Show him the card,” Sampson said. “Found it underneath the trapdoor where he came in. Looks like this freak watched too much TV in the ’90s.”

Bree handed over the evidence bag, and I took it reluctantly.

Inside was a handmade postcard. One side was black, with a large, bright-green letter X, in what looked like a degraded close-up of an old typewriter font. On the other side, in letters clipped from magazines, ransom-note style, were the words The Truth Is Out There.

“The X-Files.” Bree said what I was already thinking. “Tagline from the TV show. ‘The Truth Is Out There.’ We don’t know if this murder was based on a particular episode, but it might have been.”

“The same killer,” I said. “Has to be him.”

“Supposedly this guy was white. Older too, in his fifties or sixties,” said Sampson.

I swept my arm around the stage. “You’ve got a dozen expert witnesses to talk to here. If anyone can recognize makeup, it’s going to be actors. Two murders based on specific source material, though. Both with some kind of calling card left behind for us to find.”

“Different methods,” Bree said. “Could be coincidence. I’m not saying it is, but could be. Maybe there’s more than one perp? Possibility?”

“We’ve got a unifying signature, Bree. Public executions in front of an audience. Maybe we ought to call him the Audience Killer. That’s the heart of it for him.”

“Audience Killer? Is that in the DSM-IV?” Sampson’s smile was grim. He coped through humor. A lot of homicide cops did, myself included.

Bree ran a hand over the top of her head. “I’m with you all the way, but…”

“But what?”

“Richter. Thor the Bore isn’t going to let me rule out any possibilities without further cause.”

“What about the ones that make perfect sense to rule out?” I asked.

This was the kind of bureaucratic logjam I associated with my time at the FBI, not Metro. Things sure had changed since I’d been away. Or maybe it was just me who had changed.

I sighed out loud, looked around the stage. “What else do we have?”