The Crucifix Killer (48 page)

‘We wasted a couple of weeks running after that bogus description.’

‘And we would’ve wasted more,’ Hunter agreed. ‘We had no reason to doubt her. We assumed we were on to a good thing.’

‘And how did you know she would come after you that night?’

‘Three things. One, there were no more jurors left to take revenge upon.’

‘But she’d only taken nine victims; there are twelve jurors in total.’

‘The other three were already dead from natural causes. She couldn’t hurt them anymore. Scott, my partner, the other arresting detective, was also dead.’ Hunter stopped for a moment remembering what Brenda had told him four days ago. After a deep breath he continued. ‘I was the only one left.’

‘Not a great position to be in,’ Garcia joked.

Hunter agreed. ‘Two, it was John’s birthday. For her, the ultimate revenge day. The ultimate present to her brother and her family.’

A long pause followed.

‘And three? You said there were three things,’ Garcia questioned.

‘Me carrying your cross.’

‘Huh? I don’t follow,’ Garcia said, shifting himself on the bed, trying to get into a better position.

‘The biggest analogy of someone’s last day on earth.’

Garcia thought about it for a few seconds. ‘To carry a cross on your back. Jesus’s last day on earth,’ Garcia said, realizing Hunter’s point.

Hunter nodded again. ‘I knew I only had a few hours to think of something. I knew she’d be coming after me.’

Hunter turned to face the window again and his stare seemed distant and alienated. He gently touched the back of his neck and felt the scar which hadn’t fully healed yet.

‘If you had a strong suspicion it was Isabella, why did you go through all that? Why did you risk your life allowing her to get to you? Why not just arrest her?’ Garcia asked, shifting his body once again.

‘I had no proof, only suspicions. Just a crazy theory about revenge. As you know we had nothing on the killer, no DNA or fingerprints, nothing that could link her to any of the victims or crime scenes. If we took her in, she would’ve walked, and I’m sure we would’ve lost her forever. My only hope was to allow her to come to me.’

‘So you set a trap. A dangerous trap.’

Another nod. ‘I could think of nothing else, I was running out of time.’

‘How could she be capable of all those killings, all that evil?’ Garcia asked.

‘We’ll never be able to say for sure, but when alone with any of the victims, she became a different person. She burned with rage and evil. She was capable of anything. I know it. I saw it in her eyes. I could literally sense the rage that surrounded her.’

Garcia observed his partner for a few silent seconds. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

‘I’m fine,’ Hunter replied confidently. ‘I’m glad it’s over.’

‘You can say that again,’ Garcia said, lifting both of his bandaged hands.

They both laughed.

‘As long as Captain Bolter doesn’t assign me a paper-pushing job.’

‘Not a chance,’ Hunter confirmed. ‘You’re my partner. If I’m going after the bad guys, you’re coming with.’

Garcia smiled. ‘Thanks, Robert,’ he said in a more serious tone.

‘That’s OK. I wouldn’t let the captain give you a desk job anyway.’

‘Not for that . . . for risking your life . . . for saving mine.’

Hunter gently rested his hand on his partner’s left shoulder. No words were said. No words needed to be said.

Doctor Winston opened the door to his autopsy room in the basement of the Department of Coroner and ushered Captain Bolter inside.

‘So what have we got?’ the captain said without wasting any time. Like most people the basement autopsy room gave him the creeps and the quicker he got out of there, the better.

‘Cause of death was severe laceration of the stomach, intestines and aortic aneurysm together with massive hemorrhage. As she plunged the knife into herself she managed to drive it across from left to right. A little like the Japanese ritual,’ the doctor said directing the captain to the body on the steel table.

‘Disembowelment?’

‘Not exactly, but achieving the same final effect. She knew she’d be dead within a minute. No chance of survival.’

They both stared at the body in silence for a moment.

‘Well,’ the captain said. ‘I have to admit I’m glad this is all over.’

‘Me too,’ Doctor Winston replied with a smile. ‘How’s Carlos doing?’ he said changing the subject.

‘Getting better. Give him time and he’ll be alright.’

‘How about Robert?’

‘He’s still a little shook up. He’s blaming himself for not figuring it out earlier.’

‘It’s understandable. The killer got close to him, too close in fact. Emotionally and physically. But I don’t know any other detective that would’ve come out of it alive.’

‘Me neither.’ Captain Bolter’s eyes moved back to the body. ‘Well, she’s dead. Robert will be over it and onto the next case by next week.’

‘I’m sure he will, but, anyway, that’s not why I called you here.’

Captain Bolter frowned with interest, waiting for Doctor Winston to carry on.

‘Robert will wanna see the autopsy report.’

‘So?’

‘I think I should alter it.’

Captain Bolter shot him a worried look. ‘Why would you wanna do that?’

Doctor Winston took a piece of paper from his desk and handed it to Captain Bolter who read it attentively. His eyes stopped moving halfway down the page and widened in surprise.

‘Are you sure about this, Doctor?’

‘As sure as I can be.’

‘How old?’

‘Judging by the size of the embryo, no more than four or five weeks.’

Captain Bolter ran his hand through his hair before rereading the autopsy report. ‘That’s about when they met isn’t it?’

‘That’s what I thought,’ the doctor replied.

‘Do you know for certain it’s his?’

‘No . . . not without a DNA test, but she had one agenda in mind. She doesn’t strike me as the type who’d sleep around, not when all her efforts were on avenging her family’s death and getting to Robert.’

Captain Bolter placed the report back on the doctor’s desk. A minute of silence went by before he spoke again.

‘It would do Robert no good if he found this out.’

‘I agree. This is the last thing he needs.’

‘Who else knows about this?’

‘You and I, that’s it.’

‘Let’s keep it that way then. Alter the report,’ the captain said firmly.

‘I heard you’re getting a commendation from the Chief of Police and the Mayor himself,’ Garcia said as Hunter poured himself a glass of water from the glass jug by Garcia’s bed.

‘So are you.’

Garcia raised both of his eyebrows.

‘We’re partners remember? We were on the case together.’

Garcia smiled.

‘Not bad for your first case as a RHD detective,’ Hunter teased.

‘Yeah, not bad for someone who can now use his hands as whistles.’ Garcia lifted his right hand and moved it back and forth in front of his mouth pretending to blow on it and making a quick whistling sound.

They both broke into laughter.

A gentle knock on the door grabbed their attention. ‘I could hear you two laughing halfway down the hall,’ Anna said as she entered the room. ‘It’s great to see both of you laughing.’

‘It certainly is,’ Hunter said, resting his hand on Garcia’s arm. ‘It certainly is.’

About the author

Born in Brazil of Italian origin, Chris Carter studied psychology and criminal behaviour at the University of Michigan. As a member of the Michigan State District Attorney’s Criminal Psychology team, he interviewed and studied many criminals, including serial and multiple homicide offenders with life imprisonment convictions.

Having departed for Los Angeles in the early 1990s, Chris spent ten years as a guitarist for numerous Glam Rock bands before leaving the music business to write full-time. He now lives in London.
The Crucifix Killer
is his first novel.

Visit
www.chriscarterbooks.com