Page 42 of Say Nothing
"We can put you in the vicinity of each crime scene a few hours before each woman was murdered," Derek said."We have you making purchases, and we know you had contact with the three men who were incarcerated by the three women."
Thomas sighed."Well, that is unfortunate.For you, I mean.Here you are, chasing the wrong person, wasting your own time.I believe those women are heroes for what they did, and if it weren’t for them, I would have three fewer guys to help.Now, I can tell you that I didn't do it, but that doesn’t achieve anything.If you give me the dates I was supposedly in the area, I am sure I can account for my whereabouts.I visit numerous ex-cons on a daily basis, and that takes me all around the city.Whatever I can do to aid the investigation and point it in the right direction, I’ll gladly help."
Derek’s phone rang.He checked it and nodded to himself."I need to take this."He stood up and was about to leave the room when he remembered who he was leaving in the room together, and decided against it.Instead, he walked toward the door a little bit, remaining facing Thomas and Alison.
"Hello?"he answered."…Yeah, give me what you have…Uh-huh…Sorry, what color?… Send it over to me ASAP…You're sure?… All right, thank you…Yup, bye."
Derek slowly put his phone back in his pocket, then quickly drew his gun and pointed it at Thomas Bennet.
"Hands where I can see them," Derek ordered."Do not make any sudden moves.You’re under arrest, Bennet.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The dark figure sat in the comfortable office chair before the bank of twelve monitors, watching the press release on a loop on all twelve of them.Special Agent Derek Sullivan assured the public that there was nothing to worry about when there was everything to worry about.They glanced over their shoulder at the corkboard containing the pictures of over a dozen women.
Each and every one of them had something to worry about.
The figure looked down at their lap and the lock in their hands.They inserted the thin metal tool into the lock, then the second tool.They closed their eyes and took a deep breath as Special Agent Sullivan continued to monologue on the screen before being asked questions as he left the podium.
It was all about the slightest resistance.They moved the second metal tool back and forth a millimeter at a time, feeling for the pins and using the tool as a small lever to apply the slightest pressure and lift the pin, looking it into place.One, two, three, four, five.The padlock sprang open.They removed the metal tools and swiveled on the chair to the right, where a cart sat, a metal tray on top.
The figure placed the metal tools on the tray with the others and was reminded of a visit to the dentist when they were younger.The lock pick tools looked very much like dental equipment, especially when laid out on a metal tray with a paper towel beneath them.
They took out the cleaning solution and polished the tools to keep them rust-free and smooth.A padlock was one thing.The deadbolts on Patricia Montgomery’s door were quite another.It had been somewhat of a challenge to open the locks, especially standing exposed in the middle of the hallway where anyone could have seen.
Cracking an electronic security system was a piece of cake compared to manual entry past deadbolts and other locks.Still, it had taken less than a minute to get past the two locks and enter the house.The figure smirked.That was the hardest part of it all.The kill had been easy and satisfying.
The figure put the tools back in the rollable leather holder as each one was cleaned, polished, and dried.When they were all within and accounted for, they rolled up the holder and tied the leather strings to secure it.Then, it was put away in the drawer below the monitor wall.
A combination of buttons was pressed, and a command prompt appeared on the screen in the top left corner.The figure entered a command, and a short script was run.The computer scoured the internet for all mentions of the killings, and one by one, the monitors switched from the pre-recorded press conference to different news outlets covering the murders, of which there were a lot.
Another tap of the keyboard, and the monitors were unmuted, each of them overlapping like an orchestra, but instead of singing about great beauty or war or love, they sang about the killer’s masterpieces.They closed their eyes again, not to feel for the change in resistance of a lock pin, but to listen to the cacophony of praise for their work.It might not be praise they gave, but it was what the dark figure heard as it all melded together into one brilliance.
Their eyes snapped open, and they tapped furiously at the keyboard to isolate the phrase someone had said.The AI scraped the audio of the simultaneously playing monitors, and the screens changed to certain news outlets as they reported on theWitness Killer.One of the less-reputable news outlets had the headline:Die Witness!
The figure chuckled at the nonsense of it all.They had planned a long time for this, and it was an inevitability that the news would get out sooner or later.They were only thankful it had taken longer than expected.And with Dr.Payne on the case, they had to be careful.There were some brilliant law enforcement officers out there, but no one so brilliant as Alison Payne.
The figure left the news shows running but muted the audio again.They scoffed at the conclusions the news outlets had drawn.Yes, the women being killed had testified against violent criminals, but they weren’t the targets.Dr.Payne was the target.None of the news stations came close to mentioning that, but they knew that in the back of her mind, she must be thinking it.She’d probably even shared it with her special agent friend.
So, what to do?What to do?I would very much like to draw this out a little longer, but at what cost?The message is important, but not as important as my own life.
The figure stood from the chair.They walked over to the corkboard as the monitors played in the background.They cast their eyes over the photos of women.Three of them were now connected to Alison Payne with a red thread.Their eyes moved from Alison, up the red thread to Patricia Montgomery.
Your story is not done yet, is it?A little game to play while I do what needs to be done.I enjoyed killing you the most.
That had nothing to do with the murder itself, but with the cat that rubbed its body against their leg as they strangled their owner.Then, when they lowered Patricia to the floor, stone cold dead, the cat walked around the room mewing without a care in the world.They had bent down and petted the cat as it passed.It was an independent animal, and they hoped it was cared for when it was found.It was part of the reason they had called the police and mentioned a gunshot.They didn't like the idea of the cat being cooped up in the apartment for days without being fed or loved.
Of course, there was the deeper reason of wanting them to see the dead body as quickly as possible and to watch from across the street as they arrived to discover another murder.To stick around and watch as Alison Payne and the man she was spending a lot of time with arrived and surveyed the scene.
It had been a lot of fun to stand outside her house in the early morning and pretend to be another journalist, and to shout questions at her as she left her office with the FBI agent.
What would you think if you knew how close I was to you?Hiding in plain sight.
The figure focused back on the picture of Alison.They took a small knife from their pocket and quickly stabbed it through her face, pinning it to the board far better than the pin that held the photograph.
"No, it’s time," they murmured."I would love to kill dozens, a hundred even, but I know what she’s done before me.The other killers were arrogant and overconfident.I will not draw this out and give her a chance to catch me.I will kill her next, and then I can be free to kill as many as I want.She is the only one who can stop me, so I must stop her."
The figure placed a finger on Alison’s cheek to the right of the knife.They stroked the photo gently.
