Five Days in Summer

focus her eyes.”
    “And now?”
    “Don’t know. The thing is, she couldn’t say what happened.”
    “I take it this case was never solved, and your Mrs. Parker has a son?”
    “Two.”
    “And is she the only woman with a son, or two or three, who has been reported missing on the anniversary of Mrs. Winfrey’s disappearance?”
    “No, that’s the point. Listen to this. Santa Monica, California, September nineteenth, 1973, the dismembered head of a child is found in the dunes. No clues, no case.”
    “Mother?”
    “Head wasn’t identified at the time so I can’t say. But we can get the locals to pull the head and order a DNA check, see if it matches with a mother who went missing around that time, go from there. If the locals won’t do it, I’ll go to the state.”
    “And if they refuse to humor you?”
    Geary smiled. “I’ll get the feds to reinstate me. Piece of cake.”
    “We’ll see. It’s a sketchy connection you’re making, John. It’s almost thirty years ago.”
    “September tenth, 1980, Baton Rouge, Louisiana. A child’s arm is found floating in a swamp. Mother went missing September third, found dead.”
    “Mutilated?”
    “Not one bit.”
    “Interesting.”
    “September eighth, 1987, Fleetwood, New York.The body of a boy is found at a playground, dead three hours, tops. His mother went missing September third.”
    Bell was listening.
    “Watch the pattern,” Geary said. “Mom on the third, the kid later. This fresh kill puts the kids’ deaths at five days.”
    “And the first boy you told me about?”
    “Chance Winfrey, age seven, 1994. Do you see?”
    “Every seven years.” Bell’s eye stayed on Geary. “September third. Five days later, a child.”
    “I’m thinking they’re all boys.”
    “Why?”
    “To fit a pattern,” Geary said. “This guy’s organized. It’s all planned out, to the day, to the year. Maybe he even chooses his victims in advance. What do you think?”
    “Possibly. That could explain the geographical diversity. He chooses location by target, goes in for the job, out when his work is done.”
    “Our man was a frequent flier.”
    “Before they even started giving away miles.” Bell smirked. “I’d call that bad planning.”
    “I called my pal Tom at VICAP this morning, he checked the database and came up with names connected to date and type of crime. He’s cross-referencing the system and calling me back. Right now all I have are these newspaper articles I was able to pull off the Internet.”
    Geary slid a file folder across the Formica table to Bell. He opened it and read. When he was finished, he looked more sober than he’d been in years, and he didn’t drink. Geary had known the articles would nail him.
    “I’d say you’re right,” Bell said. “We’ve got a repeater.”
    “How do you see him, based on what we know now?”
    Bell pursed his lips. “He’s antisocial.”
    “I’ll say.”
    “A psychopath. Not psychotic. A true psychotic could not plot out such a complex series of crimes. I’ll be interested to see the forensics on each case. In my experience, the more organized a criminal, the less evidence they leave. And I wonder if our man here is working to perfect his craft.”
    “Perfect? How?” Geary pushed his plate away; he’d lost his appetite.
    “Seven years ago, the mother was found alive. I’d like to know about the other mothers. Were they found? Dead? Alive? In what state of consciousness? Were any of them able to describe what happened?”
    “I’m checking to see if the local offices have done any follow-up on these cases. I’ll also check the bureau.”
    “It sounds like he kills the children, period.”
    “He doesn’t just kill them.”
    “No. He dismembers them.”
    “More like torture.”
    Bell nodded. “But with the mothers, he’s searching for an answer.”
    “Controlling the outcome by controlling the way he leaves the mother?”
    “Possibly.”
    “Can you give him an age, Roger?”
    “My math skills are out of practice.” He worked his salad.
    “I’ve already done the math, but I want your assessment first.”
    “Typically this kind of pathology brews for years, then blossoms in the late twenties. Adding up theseven-year periods, wouldn’t that put him in his mid-fifties?”
    “Bingo.” Geary nodded. “What else?”
    “He’s white. Educated. I’d guess he’s good at crossword puzzles, chess, games of strategy.”
    “What’s his line of work?”
    Bell thought.