Inmate 1577

25

The morning gloom hovered outside the large windows of Homicide, bringing a more intense chill than even the first few days of Vail’s visit. Roxxann Dixon was en route, toting a packed bag. Vail had invited her to room with her for as long as she was in town working the case.

Clay Allman’s San Francisco Tribune article made page one. Vail, Burden, and Friedberg huddled over the worktable, reading the paper, when suddenly Vail stood up straight. “Son of a bitch.”

Friedberg’s eyes darted around the page. “What’s wrong?”

“You guys read as fast as a third grader.”

“Oh.” Burden frowned and pushed back from his desk. “He mentioned you.”

“Yeah, he mentioned me.”

Friedberg tilted his head. “And mentioning you is a problem…why?”

“It’s one thing for the UNSUB to know certain things about our investigation. This kind of offender, he’s gonna want that interaction. We have to control it, even fan those flames-but very carefully. I’ve unfortunately been a part of a few of these cases, and it can really complicate things. I’d rather handle it low key-”

“You?” Burden asked. “Low key?”

“This UNSUB’s got a lot of narcissism and grandiosity. He’s arrogant and self-assured, the kind that taunts law enforcement. He’s posed his bodies in public to show off his handiwork, how great he is. It’s a monument to his skill as a killer. So announcing the FBI Behavioral Analysis Unit is involved turns up the stakes, makes him feel more important. So that’s not bad. But mentioning me by name. That focuses things on me. I’d rather be in the background, in a position where I can pull strings the offender doesn’t know I’m pulling. But now that I’m on his radar, he’s going to be playing to me.”

“How’s that?” Friedberg asked.

“There’s a strong pull between profiler and offenders. Cat and mouse stuff. But the fact I’m a woman…makes it worse. Some of them see it as cool. After their arrest, a lot of ’em want to meet the woman profiler who worked their case.”

“And that’s bad?”

Vail chuckled. “He’s not looking at it as a situation where we’ll meet after the arrest. He’s going to do his best to find me before then.”

“So you want protection,” Burden said.

“Me? Protection? No. I’m saying that it adds a dynamic we didn’t need, a complication we’d have been better off without. And-it just goes to my point that we need to control the media, what they release. Even the precise wording they use in their reports, their articles-”

“Can’t unring a bell.” Burden tossed the paper on the desk. “What’s done is done. Let’s run our investigation based on what we know and what we don’t, not what the media knows and doesn’t know. Okay?”

“Of course,” Vail said, “but to ignore the media’s role and how the UNSUB-”

“I’m not ignoring it. But you planted that inane bit about the ocean. You wanted him to contact you. Maybe he will.”

“You. I wanted him to contact you.”

Burden grumbled something under his breath, then shook his head. “I’m beginning to think that the only thing that’s gonna solve this thing is good old fashioned ass-to-the-grindstone police work. Now. I think we need to look at the ’82 case and see what it can tell us regarding our current vics.”

Friedberg said, “I put out a message to Millard Ferguson.”

Vail ground her teeth. They’re missing the point. “And? Has he replied?”

Friedberg coyly pulled out his BlackBerry and thumbed through it. He tilted his head back to look out the bottoms of his glasses. “He did. Wants to meet.”

Burden grabbed his sport coat. “Why don’t you two go, I’m going to follow up with-”

“Agent Vail.” Before Burden could finish his sentence, a woman entered the room from the outer reception area. “This just came for you.” She handed Vail an envelope.

“Who’s it from?”

“It was messengered over. The man said it was time sensitive and extremely urgent.”

“What man?” Vail asked, heading for the anteroom where the receptionist’s station was.

“The messenger. He gave it to me and left.”

Vail looked at the envelope, then walked back toward Burden. “But other than us, and my unit, no one knows I’m here.” This is not good. Not good at all.

Friedberg said, “You mean other than us, your unit, and the entire city of San Francisco.”

Shit, that’s right. What did I tell them? “Gloves?”

Burden stuck a hand inside his coat pocket and pulled one out.

“What do you do, carry an entire supply in there?”

“Boy Scout 101. Always be prepared.”

Vail slipped on the glove. “Boy Scout 101, huh? How about Anal Inspector 202.”

Burden wagged a finger at the envelope. “Shut up and open it.”

Using the tip of a pen, Vail carefully pried open the flap, then slipped out the piece of paper inside. Yeah. Not good at all.

Staring back at her was a message. From the offender:

THANK YOU FOR COMING AGENT VAIL.