The Executioner

Fifty

Captain Blake approached the corkboard and studied the new photographs. Hunter noticed she visibly flinched before falling back into her usual controlled demeanor. ‘Did the killer use blood again to draw the number?’ She pointed to one of the pictures.

‘Yes,’ Hunter replied, pushing his chair back with a scraping sound and standing up.

There was a knock at the door.

‘Come in,’ the captain called ahead of Hunter and Garcia.

Ian Hopkins entered and was instantly surprised to see Captain Blake in the room.

‘Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were having a meeting.’

‘It’s OK,’ Hunter said, motioning him to stay.

Captain Blake turned to face Garcia with a questioning expression.

‘He’s OK.’ Garcia gently shook his head. ‘He’s the officer you assigned to us to help with the legwork, remember?’

‘I just came in to tell Detective Hunter that no one took down the Monica girl details,’ Hopkins said. ‘When the officer got to the interrogation room, she was gone.’

‘Monica?’ the captain asked, turning around. ‘Is this the girl who came in yesterday saying she had some information on the Seven Saints church murder?’

‘That’s her,’ Garcia replied, leaning against his desk.

‘So what came of that?’

‘We had just started talking to her when we were told about the new victim.’ Hunter joined the captain by the photo board. ‘She never got a chance to tell us what she came here to tell us.’

‘Was she at the church? Did she see anything?’ The captain’s interest grew.

‘No to the first and in a way to the second,’ Garcia replied, scratching his chin.

‘And what the fuck does that mean?’

‘She wasn’t at the church,’ Hunter said calmly. ‘All she told us is that she had a vision.’

The captain’s posture tensed. ‘Hold on,’ she said firmly, lifting her right hand. ‘She came in claiming she was psychic?’

‘Not as far as we know,’ Hunter replied.

The captain stared around the room and came to rest on Garcia. ‘Somebody better tell me something.’

‘According to the officer who first talked to her, she didn’t say anything about being a psychic or having any visions. She claimed she had some information, but she’d only talk to the detectives in charge.’

The captain took a packet of mints out of her dark blazer’s breast pocket and popped one in her mouth. ‘I’m sorry.’ She turned to Hunter. ‘But if she is a crackpot claiming she’s psychic, why are we after her?’

‘She’s not a psychic, captain,’ Hunter said cautiously. ‘She seems to feel things deeper than most people.’

‘She what?’ The captain almost choked on her mint.

‘Extrasensory perception.’ Hunter didn’t hesitate.

‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ she shot back. Her hands on her hips. Her voice half an octave higher.

‘I’m as skeptical about this as you are, captain,’ Hunter replied, ‘but the fact is, whether we believe it or not, people with ESP do exist.’

‘It doesn’t matter, Robert.’ The captain crushed her mint with a loud crunch. ‘We’re not the supernatural freaking police. The press is already out in force to get us, and so is the mayor. We are under severe pressure. Now imagine what would happen if they found out we enlisted the help of a psychic. How incompetent would we look?’

‘I’m not enlisting anyone’s help, captain. I just wanna talk to her. Find out what she has to say. If it all turns out to be bullshit, we’ll disregard it like we’ve done with one hundred percent of the tips that have come in so far.’

She popped a new mint in her mouth and rolled it from one cheek to the other. ‘What makes you think she’s the real deal?’

Hunter stood behind his chair and leaned his elbows against it. ‘As I was rushing out of the interrogation room yesterday, she stopped me to tell me something.’ He looked at Garcia. ‘You’d already left.’

‘And what was that?’

Hunter paused for a moment. ‘She said, “He knew about the fire. He knew what scared her.”’