Gallery of the Dead

Thirty-Four

With a drag that seemed to last an eternity, Adrian Kennedy lit his second cigarette from the first.

Hunter waited.

‘I knew it would be hard to get it past you, old buddy,’ Kennedy said, as he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. ‘But even I wasn’t expecting you to figure it out so quickly. So what gave it away?’

‘You, Adrian,’ Hunter replied. ‘You gave it away.’

‘Really? When?’

‘The first time,’ Hunter explained. ‘When I flipped through Kristine Rivers’ investigation file upstairs.’

Kennedy questioned with a stare.

‘It said that you attended the crime scene.’

The stare was still there.

‘C’mon, Adrian, I know you, and I know how the NCAVC works. You won’t travel anywhere unless it’s absolutely mandatory. Most of the NCAVC’s operations are coordinated either from your office in Quantico or the one in DC; there’s rarely a need for you to become field active.’

Kennedy watched the smoke curl up in the air as it left the tip of his cigarette. He looked like he was enjoying Hunter’s assessment.

‘Sure,’ Hunter continued, ‘this killer’s first murder was intriguing, but not enough to get the NCAVC’s director so worked up about it that he had to attend the scene himself. There was nothing there you hadn’t seen before, Adrian — a killer who takes body parts from his victims? A killer who carves messages into his victims’ flesh? A killer who likes to position his victims in a specific way? The Bureau’s archives back in Quantico are littered with similar cases.’ Hunter shook his head. ‘No, there had to have been some other reason why you went to Detroit and so fast. Don’t tell me Detroit PD requested the FBI’s help, because I know they didn’t. Not within just a few hours of the body being discovered.’

‘I see your logic, Robert,’ Kennedy said. ‘And it makes total sense, but the reason we turned up in Detroit doesn’t necessarily have to be linked to the victim. It could be linked to the killer.’

‘That was actually my first thought,’ Hunter admitted. ‘A dormant killer. Someone who the NCAVC were already looking for. A killer who perhaps had gone into a long cool-off period and had finally decided to resurface. But that still wouldn’t completely justify your presence at the crime scene. Then your body language gave it away again.’

Kennedy looked a little surprised. ‘Did it? When?’

‘When Kristine Rivers’ crime-scene photographs were displayed,’ Hunter explained. ‘Your composure wavered fractionally and your eyes averted from the images. The more we talked about her, the more fidgety you got.’

Kennedy looked like he was trying to recall the moment.

‘Then, just a while later,’ Hunter added, ‘I asked if she’d been sexually assaulted. Agent Fisher exchanged a flash look with you before responding, and immediately after that you reciprocated the question, this time concerning the LA victim. There was more than just apprehension in your voice, Adrian. There was pain. After I told you that the killer didn’t touch Linda Parker in that way either, the pain in your voice turned into relief.’ Hunter paused, studying the NCAVC director.

Kennedy held steady.

‘Pain for Miss Rivers’ death and relief for the fact that she hadn’t been sexually assaulted.’

Another pause.

Again Kennedy kept his poker face.

‘I know you well enough to know that you never allow yourself to get involved, Adrian. Add to that the fact that you referred to the victim by her first name at least a couple of times and something here isn’t quite right. Rule number one of the NCAVC when working brutal serial-murder cases: never let it get personal, never get emotionally attached to anything or anyone, especially the victims.’

Kennedy flicked the filter of his cigarette with his thumb, tipping the ash before looking back at Hunter.

‘What if I told you that Kristine Rivers was with the FBI’s Witness Protection Program and that is why we got involved so fast?’

‘Then I would tell you to get your agents, get the hell out of my office and stop wasting my time.’

‘Why?’

‘Because she wasn’t with the Witness Protection Program, Adrian.’

‘How can you be so sure? The names on the FBI’s WPP are highly classified.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Hunter sounded half-offended. ‘If Kristine Rivers was part of the WPP she wouldn’t have been relocated to a major city like Detroit, or allowed to enroll into a top university like Wayne State — too much exposure. The risk of her being recognized by a fellow student, a teacher, or even on the streets of Detroit by a stranger would be too great. WPP subjects always get relocated to obscure little towns somewhere in the back of beyond, not to huge metropolises. Plus, neither you nor your agents have a clue who this killer could be. If Kristine Rivers had been murdered because she was with the WPP, you would know where to start looking.’

Kennedy gave Hunter a lifeless smile while nodding.

‘So can we please drop the bullshit now?’ Hunter said. ‘Who was she, Adrian?’

Kennedy gazed at the photograph Hunter was holding. ‘You probably read in the file that her mother’s name is Suzanne Rivers, right?’

Hunter nodded once.

‘What the file doesn’t show is that Kristine’s mother’s maiden name is Suzanne Kennedy. She’s my sister. Kristine was my niece, Robert.’