Page 23 of Girl, Haunted

Ella's stomach dropped like a stone in a bottomless well. A sickening vertigo gripped her as the masked figure emerged from his hiding place. It wasn't the sudden burst of violence she'd been bracing for. No, he moved with painfully slow footsteps, like a spider about to consume a fly in its web. Then Ella noticed the gleaming blade in the figure's hand.

He was three-quarters of the way across the room now. Ella could see the tension in his body, like a cat ready to pounce. She found herself wondering what was going through his mind. Was he savoring the moment, drawing out the anticipation? Or was his heart racing as he prepared to take a life?

Judging by his body language, the man didn’t have an ounce of anxiety in him. This was cold detachment. Not the actions of a frantic or broken mind amidst a frenzy.

Van Allen, still unaware, moved to adjust another prop. The motion brought him a half-step closer to the approaching killer. Ella's breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she thought Van Allen might bump into his would-be murderer, might have a chance to react, to fight back, to maybe rip that mask off and show his true face to the world.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Ella watched Van Allen's face come into view, his expression shifting from concentration to confusion as he registered something amiss in his peripheral vision.

Then, in a heartbeat, confusion gave way to primal fear.

Ella saw the exact moment the realization hit him, the way his eyes widened and his mouth fell open in what would be his final scream. The figure plunged the knife into Van Allen's stomach with brutal efficiency. Ella flinched involuntarily, her own body tensing as if she could feel the cold steel sliding between her ribs. Van Allen's body jerked, his hands instinctively moving to the wound as he crumpled to the floor.

‘Christ almighty,’ Redmond said. Ella had forgotten there were two other people beside her.

Then the killer stood over Van Allen, watching impassively as his victim writhed on the ground. Ella could imagine the rush of adrenaline, the thrill of the kill. It was a feeling she'd never understood, never wanted to understand.

Next, he knelt beside Van Allen, his mask hovering inches from the dying man's face. For a moment, Ella thought he might say something, might offer some explanation or taunt. But he remained silent, watching with that blank white face as Van Allen reduced to a lifeless slump of flesh and bone.

Then, with a gentleness that seemed obscene given the circumstances, he plucked out a teddy bear from the inside of his jacket. He tucked the stuffed toy into Van Allen's arms.

‘There’s the bear,’ Luca breathed.

The killer stood, admired his handiwork, then reached into his jacket. Ella tensed, expecting a weapon. But instead, the killer pulled out a bulky, old-fashioned camera.

‘The hell is he doing?’ said Redmond.

Five or six flashes followed. Three from afar, three close-up. A sharp, metallic taste flooded Ella's mouth. She realized she’d bit the skin off her lips and drew blood.

‘Documenting his work,’ Luca said.

Then, with the same deliberate grace he'd shown throughout, the killer turned and walked out of frame.

For a long moment, no one in the precinct spoke. The only sound was the soft whir of Ella's laptop and the ragged breathing of three people who had just witnessed something they could never unsee.

Ella sat back, her body suddenly feeling like it weighed a ton. She ran a trembling hand through her hair.

‘Son of a bitch

‘We got him,’ Luca said. ‘We got the whole thing on tape.’

Ella nodded, not trusting herself to speak just yet. They had their killer on camera. It should have felt like a victory. Instead, she just felt hollow.

‘That’s no use when we can’t see his face,’ said Redmond.

Luca pointed to the five other USB drives on the table. ‘If he took that mask off at any point, it’ll be on one of these drives.’

Ella was still staring at the corpse of Gregory Van Allen on her screen. The timestamp in the corner said 00:20. The whole thing had played out in two minutes, despite it feeling like an eternity.

‘We’ve got a lot here,’ she said. ‘Our unsub is about six-two, skinny build but not weak, not given what he did to Natasha Langston. There’s a slight favor to his right leg, maybe from an old injury or could just be his natural gait.’

Luca plugged in his laptop and then reached for the first USB drive. ‘This isn’t some rage-filled amateur. He’s got incredible impulse control. He stayed hidden in that room for what, two hours?’

‘That takes patience, control. This is a guy who can keep his cool under pressure.’

‘The knife, the mask, the teddy bear. He brought all the tools with him and kept them concealed throughout a haunted house. This unsub has mental strength on his side. He doesn’t break easily.’

Redmond's eyebrows knitted together. ‘So we're dealing with a pro?’

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