Page 20 of Girl, Unseen

‘I don't think we're dealing with a killer.’ He tapped the folder. ‘The symbols, the timing, the bones taken from graves... This is bigger than one person. More organized.’

Ella felt it coming, like the pressure drop before a storm. ‘What are you saying?’

‘I don’t think this is the work of a killer. I think this is the work of a cult.’

CHAPTER TEN

‘Cults don’t exist,’ Ella said.

Ross had commandeered a corner office for her and Luca in the 23rd Precinct, away from the rest of the force. Ella had claimed the far end of the table, near the whiteboard, so she could attack it with her thoughts when the urge struck. Now was such a time. She drew a thick black line under the word 'MOTIVE.'

‘You sure about that?’ Luca was setting up his laptop, wrestling with cables that seemed determined to strangle each other. ‘Because those photos Ross showed us-’

‘Are weird, yeah. But satanic cults? Secret societies performing ritual murders?’ She shook her head. ‘It's all urban legend.’

‘Manson Family?’

‘Small-time criminals who got high and killed people. That's not a cult, that's Saturday night in Detroit.’

‘What about those others? Scientology and all that?’

‘Sure, we've got Scientology, Heaven's Gate, People's Temple – groups that manipulate people out of money or into mass suicide. But satanic cults sacrificing virgins under the full moon? Pure fantasy.’

Luca asked, ‘What about those Norwegian black metal bands who burned down churches?’

‘Teenagers getting high and listening to Slayer don't count.’

‘I love Slayer.’

‘Of course you do.’ Ella stepped back from the board. ‘My point is, every supposed satanic cult case has turned out to be either a hoax, a cover-up, or a lone nutjob with too much time and black nail polish. The FBI spent years investigating ritual abuse claims in the eighties. Found exactly zero evidence.’

Luca finally won his battle with the cables and then sat down at his laptop. 'Well, there's a first time for everything.'

Ella didn't answer. Her eyes tracked across the timeline she'd drawn. Friday: Marcus attends his last faculty meeting. Saturday: drives to the quarry. Saturday afternoon through Tuesday: dead in a hole while his colleagues wonder where he is. Today, everything goes to hell.

‘Okay. Let's lay out what we know.’ She uncapped the marker again and sketched a basic link analysis. Marcus Thornton in the center. Linesradiating out to other elements: the quarry, the symbols, the grave robberies, the dead animals. Question marks everywhere.

‘First problem.’ She circled Marcus's name. ‘Who knew enough about him to set this trap?’

‘Olivia Westbrook,’ Luca suggested. ‘They worked together for twelve years.’

Ella nodded and wrote the name. ‘Who else?’

‘Other faculty members. Students. Ex-wife, maybe?’

More names went up on the board. ‘What about the email that lured him there?’

Luca pulled out his notebook. ‘The email address was just a random bunch of letters and numbers. Here, I’ll try and say it aloud.Zero-pumag-two-one-fourat Burnbox dot com.’

‘Let’s see it.’ Ella glimpsed Luca’s [email protected].

‘Pumag.Is that a word?’

‘Not that I know of. What are the odds we can trace it?’

Luca said, ‘Not in our favor. Burnbox is one of those self-destructing domains. It creates a temporary address for like three hours.’

‘Send it to Amelia anyway. Many a psycho has been busted because of their delusions of technological grandeur. What about the photos?’

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