Lover Beware

indicated Detectives Donovan and Armstrong each with a nod—“all the prostitutes were murdered in their apartments, bodies found in their beds. Laura—Mrs. Damascus—was found in Woldenburg Park, near the river, and the children…in the backseat of the vehicle belonging to Mrs. Damascus. And Laura obviously wasn’t a prostitute.
    “According to the M.E.’s report, Laura died from a puncture wound to her heart—an ice pick, perhaps—while the hookers died from a prolonged loss of blood before the actual mutilations. This guy was into torture. However, Laura’s was quick—”
    Donovan interrupted. “They were in the fuckin’ park, Travelli. He hardly had the time to spare for a drawn-out torture—”
    “Why was she in the park at midnight?”
    “How the hell are we supposed to know that? Why don’t you look in your crystal ball and ask her?”
    Anna shut the file and sank back in her chair, looked from one detective to the other. Her fingers drummed the chair arm and the color that had blanched from her face crawled up her slender throat.
    “Our UNSUB,” she finally said, referring to the unknown subject of the investigation, “is what we term a ‘domineering killer,’ gentlemen. He gets his thrills from inspiring fear in his victim. It gives him a feeling of control and power that he otherwise is lacking in his life. According to the M.E.’s report, our freak doesn’t have sex with his victims. That doesn’t mean he isn’t experiencing orgasmic fulfillment. His arousal comes due to his slavelike control of the hooker. As noted here, he binds her arms and legs to the bed so she is totally helpless. No doubt he toys with her. Teases her. Explains in detail to her exactly what he intends to do to her in order to heighten her horror. He probably masturbates during the torture. Uses a condom to avoid leaving semen that could be used to DNA him.
    “He may or may not have had sex with these prostitutes in the past. He may choose them at random, but I doubt it. There is something about her that intrigues him. The girls are very young. Not hardened as badly by the life. Makes sense. This younger individual will be more intimidated by his threats. The greater her fear, the greater his pleasure.
    “Our UNSUB is highly organized, obviously, as evidenced by his meticulous care at the crime scene. At the risk of offending you gentlemen”—she glanced around at each of the somber detectives—“I suggest you send the items you collected from the crime scene to Quantico. Often they’re able to pick up evidence that the locals boys don’t.”
    They stared at her, making no comment.
    Jerry cleared his throat. “We’ll do that immediately, of course.”
    She flashed him a look, then reached for her purse. “Hope you guys don’t mind if I smoke?” She smiled. “If I’m going to be forced to deal with your obvious belligerence over my presence you can deal with my cigarettes.”
    Again, no comment.
    She lit a cigarette and stared at the wall. Jerry could almost hear her mind working, not so much over the case but how she intended to deal with the testosterone swimming in the air and the detectives’ increasingly abused egos. Killroy’s acnepocked face was slowly turning purple. Donovan was beginning to simmer, and Armstrong’s thoughts appeared to be more focused on Anna’s breasts than on what she was saying.
    She glanced down at the Damascus file and the confidence on her face appeared to slip. “There’s something about this one that isn’t sitting right with me. It’s all off. Everything. The location of the murder in a public place…”
    Anna opened the Damascus file again. She nodded. Smoked. Reached for her coffee, but didn’t drink it. “According to the M.E.’s report there were apparent signs of struggle. Defensive bruises on her arms, along her rib cage. Cuts on her hands as if she attempted to fend off the knife. This is a total contradiction to the other cases. So what—aside from the decapitation and evisceration, same as the previous victims—would indicate that this was anything except a copycat?” Anna raised one eyebrow and looked from one officer to the other. “Anyone?”
    Armstrong sat forward as he withdrew a notebook from his suit pocket. He tossed it on the table. “I’ve got my opinions, if anybody wants to hear them.”
    Donovan groaned. “Shit, don’t start with that crap again.”
    “What crap?” Jerry asked.
    “You don’t want to go there.”