Into the Dark

34

San Marino, California

Ninety-minutes after his meeting with Tanner had ended Mark Harding broke the story for the AllNews Press Agency when it posted a condensed version on its website under the double-decker headline:

Killer Linked to 5 Murdered Women Surfaces

Vows More Deaths in Letter to Reporter- L.A. Police Confirm

Harding’s story went up at 3:50 p.m. Eastern standard time. Links were tweeted and blogged. Network news outlets included the ANPA’s exclusive in their evening news broadcasts. Other news organizations ran the full story on their sites. Most newspapers, especially those in Southern California, cleared space for print editions.

The next morning, the Pasadena Star-News ran Harding’s feature. The Star-News was a large daily that also covered South Pasadena, Monrovia, Arcadia, Alhambra and San Marino, where Robert Bowen got his copy from his doorstep.

When he saw the headline he froze.

Standing on his front landing, in sweatpants and a T-shirt, reading Harding’s report in the morning sun, Bowen looked like any other neighbor in any other town catching up on the news.

He devoured the front page in seconds, then followed the story to an inside page. Again, as with Mark Harding’s first article about the killings, there was a map and headshots of each of the women. Staring at their faces, memories swirled and Bowen relished a few intense moments. Then he went inside, excitement prickling his skin as he made coffee, sat at the kitchen table and read the story again, delighted by the passages that quoted the letter.

“I am reaching out from the darkness to warn the world that I have kept my word…I am back…I will soon unleash fear unlike anything the world has ever known…I decide who lives and who dies…”

He went to his office, turned on his computer, got online and searched for the story. News sites everywhere ran the same story. All of them quoted his letter. He went back to the kitchen and made breakfast-scrambled eggs and hash browns. As he ate, he reread the story, dimly conscious of his surroundings, basking in what he’d achieved.

People around the world now knew and feared the Dark Wind Killer.

I’ve been exalted. I’m in control and I will claim my place in history, alongside Jack the Ripper and the Zodiac. They never caught them and they’ll never catch me. You can’t stop the wind. I’m on the path to glory.

As Bowen ate, he remembered the sweetest moments of each mission, savoring how Esther had pleaded, actually prayed, “Hail Mary full of grace…” How Monique had begged, “Please, don’t let me die, oh, please!” to the point that she was incoherent in the final moments. And Leeza’s soft cries had been operatic as if arising from a requiem. Each one of the five was a piece of craftsmanship, inspiring him now to do his best work ever.

Bowen glanced at the microscopic bits of dirt under his clean fingernails, a reminder that he had projects in progress and needed to move his work along before his next trip. He sat in the morning quiet a long time, thinking before the light in the kitchen diffused.

Claire kissed his cheek.

“Good morning.” She went to the fridge for a glass of orange juice. “Are you nervous about the hero’s banquet tonight?”

“I’m no hero.”

“Ruben Montero’s community association thinks otherwise.”

“I don’t know about this, Claire-all this attention.”

“Come on. Be gracious. It’ll make Ruben happy, and we’ll have a nice time.” She smiled. “And thanks again for bringing my laptop to the break-in the other day. It was a big help.”

“How are things going with that?”

She allowed a few seconds to pass, as if she had opened a door to a room of unsettled things.

“We managed to rejig the schedule, and I got a call from police last night when you were out. They checked on my patient who’d been assaulted by her partner, to be sure everything was okay. They said she was fine.”

“You must be relieved.”

“I’m concerned, given the situation.” Claire got a muffin from the cupboard and sat at the table with him.

“How are police doing with the investigation?” he asked. “I thought they said the bad guys were going after gold fillings.”

“The detective had theories that the burglary was disguised to look like that. He thought that maybe a vengeful ex might’ve been going after files in my office, especially since my patients have suffered abuse and attacks, you know.”

Chewing on a piece of her muffin, she took a moment to shape her next question, aware that two new magazines about babies and pregnancies were on the far side of the table.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“I got another trip coming up, Chicago and Toronto.”

“Okay.” Claire broke off another piece of her muffin, swallowing her disappointment, her focus shifting through the glass patio doors to their backyard and two planter boxes by a mound of fresh earth next to one of her large flower beds.

“I see you’re still working on my boxes. They look great, by the way. Is that what you were up doing last night? You were up late.”

Bowen followed Claire’s gaze to the yard.

“Yes, I want them to be just right.”

“You’re such a perfectionist. What time did you come to bed?”

“I don’t remember. I have to take a new plane for the next trip, so I went out to Van Nuys to check it out.”

“You drove to work in the middle of the night to look at a plane?”

“I couldn’t sleep. You know how my job plays havoc with my body clock.”

“Yes, it just seems unusual.” Claire shrugged, then turned to the Star-News headline about the killer surfacing. She read a few paragraphs before tapping her finger to it. “Scary stuff.”

She stood, cleaned up and kissed him. “Gotta go. Remember, Ruben called you a great hero, so just be yourself tonight.”

Claire left, taking a parting glance at the newspaper then the backyard, thinking how the boxes looked like coffins next to a fresh grave. She held that grim observation briefly before shifting her attention to the day ahead.