Page 36 of 1st Shock
"Oh sure. Four, maybe five times. He's a total head case."
That's one way to put it.
"What exactly is this paper you're working on?"
He shuffles through a perfect stack of manila folders, reading the tabs of each before pulling one out and facing us again. "I'm comparing common characteristics of male versus female serial killers. I've interviewed five men and three women so far."
He walks back and holds a file out. "It's rather fascinating."
Just like that.Here you go. Read all you like about the psycho I'm studying.
A chill lances down my arms. How could this topic be so casual to all of us? What have we become that this level of violence doesn't shock or intimidate us?
It's something I can't think too hard about, so I open the folder and skim the first page. A handwritten summary of a conversation with Mickey. Devante's penmanship is excellent. The words contain neat block letters—all caps—that form freakishly perfect square paragraphs.
Matt peers over my shoulder. "What have you determined so far?"
"The most common is males choose strangers as their victims while females tend to kill people they know."
"I see. And Mickey?"
"Strangers. Every time. Blondes. And he slits their throats. It makes him, er, he gets sexual gratification from it."
Lord.
"Has he told you about any of his victims? Where he's buried them? How many?"
"No. Nothing like that. We don't talk specifics. It's mostly about his upbringing and such. He's highly intelligent. He says his IQ is one forty-five, but I can't confirm."
Interesting. I'm sure my sister already knows this since she studied Mickey in great detail before his trial. "A genius."
"According to him. No proof though. I'm not sure how much you know about him, but his mother forced him to sleep in a locked basement. She was a single mom trying to find a husband. When the men saw him, they'd leave her." Devante shrugs. "They didn't want a woman with children."
Matt shakes his head, lets out a grunt. "So she locked him in when men came over."
"Yes. She hid him. Told him no one could ever love him." He waggles a finger at his file. "You'll see it in my notes. I believe slashing his victim's throats is symbolic of shutting his mother up."
Well, nearly decapitating someone would be one way to do it. "Did she ever remarry?"
"She did. She found a man with children of his own. By then, Mickey was severely damaged."
This is also in Charlie's notes, confirming my sister's research before the bastard's trial. "I see."
Devante leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees and lets out a long sigh. "Look, he's a messed up dude. He belongs in prison."
Something in his tone forces me to set his notes down and focus on him. "But?"
He shrugs. "I can see why his victims became his victims. He connects with people. Maybe he stopped to talk to them, and they figured he was harmless. I don’t know.”
Maybe he asked them to show him their boobs. “Do you plan on visiting him again?”
“It depends. If I need more info, he’s always willing to talk.”
Devante reaches for the coffee table and taps his phone screen. “Oh, wow. It’s getting late. I have to be at work in an hour.”
He stands but I remain seated. I’m not done yet. I want copies of his notes. Up to this point he’s been cooperative. Almost too much so. That might be my own suspicions bubbling up, but when it comes to this case, I can’t be too trustful of anything.
Or anyone.
