Страница 29 из 94
“Hansen wasn’t charged. He wasn’t even arrested. That happened in 1982. It was another year before they finally took him down.”
He had the undivided attention of all of them now.
“The organized killer plans his crimes. He chooses his victims. He’s more apt to draw out the attack, to restrain the victim, to torture the victim. He’s got the whole situation under control. That’s what it’s about for him: control. And when he’s done, he’ll transport the victim away from the death scene, then go home and wait to read about it in the papers, see the reports on the news.
“What you’re dealing with here, gentlemen, truly is a big-game hunter,” Vince said. “He’s a killing machine, and he’s very, very good at it. Experience tells me he’s a white male. Serial killers tend to hunt within their own ethnic group.”
“That narrows it right down,” Farman said sarcastically.
“He’s in his midthirties,” Vince went on. “That’s when these guys hit their prime. And he believes he’s hitting his prime now. He’s moving into the big time with this latest victim. He’s put her on display so we can all look and see what a badass he is. This victim was his challenge. He’s thrown down the gauntlet. He doesn’t believe you’re smart enough to catch him, and so far he’s right.”
He gripped the chalk tray with his left hand to ward off another wave of dizziness.
Mendez was watching him like a hawk.
“And I’ll take some IV coffee now, if you’ve got it,” Vince said. “This jet lag is a bitch.”
25
“De
Her strategy with fifth graders was to maintain self-control at all times. Never let them see you sweat. Today even antiperspirant failed her.
She had been glad to see De
He sat on his knees, bending over his desktop, intent on drawing in the notebook he shielded with one arm. He was supposed to be reading chapter 12 in his American history book, like the rest of the class was supposed to be doing. But there were plenty of eyes cutting in De
Wendy kept shooting him dirty looks. Tommy watched him from the corner of his eye, pretending not to, not wanting to draw attention. Cody, pale and nervous, kept his nose buried in his book, but hadn’t turned a page in fifteen minutes. De
A
“De
He didn’t look up. Instead, he ripped a fart that started an avalanche of nervous laughter. The unfortunate girl sentenced to sit behind him leaned back in her chair, her face contorting. The stench was horrific.
“Gross! I’m go
“Go sit in the next row,” A
Groans of dismay ran through the room.
A
“De
He didn’t answer her, but his cheeks flushed red and tears suddenly welled in his eyes. He dug the tip of his pen into the paper so hard it tore.
A
She glanced at the clock and stood up. “All right, everyone. Quietly go line up in the hall for lunch.”
De
He winced and jerked away from her touch as if she had burned him.
Wide eyes glanced back at them as the rest of the class filed out the door. The speculation would now run rampant as to the fate of their resident troublemaker.
“Last one out closes the door, please,” she said.
The tension in the silence after the door closed was like a balloon filling and filling and filling with air until it was about to burst. A
“Did you get in trouble for skipping school yesterday?”
De
“You know, it doesn’t help you to keep all those feelings bottled up, De
He screwed himself around in his seat until he had all but his back to her. A
Her father had never raised a hand to either her mother or herself, but A
Because A
“Are you angry with me?” she asked.
The boy’s body was rigid with anger. He began to shake under the pressure of trying to contain it, and then suddenly he couldn’t. He turned on her, his eyes wild.
“I HATE YOU!” he shouted. “I HATE YOU! YOU’RE A FUCKING BITCH!!”
She hadn’t been prepared for the virulence of his explosion. She sat back in her chair, her heart pounding like a trip hammer as he raged at her.
He banged both fists on his desk over and over. “I hate you! I hate you! I wish you were dead!”
Now what, Miss Child Psychologist Wa
She had opened the door and let loose a demon. What was she supposed to do? Physically take hold of him? Let the rage pour out of him until it was spent? Make him deny his feelings and shove them back into the box with the now-broken hinges?
While A
Do something, stupid.
“I’m sorry, De
She had no idea if she was saying the right thing. But then she had no idea if he was even hearing her, he was crying so hard. Despite his outburst against her, A