Thr3e

“What’s your specialty, agent?” Milton asked.

“Forensic psychology, Detective.”

“Profiler.”

“Psychological profiles based on forensics,” she corrected. She almost spoke the rest of the thought: That’s why they put the wordforensics in there, for those who grew up in Backwater, Louisiana.

“Fair enough. But I don’t want you talking to the media.”

“I wouldn’t think of robbing you of all that airtime, sir.”

“I think we have an understanding.”

“Good. I reviewed your file as of an hour ago.” She looked at Nancy. “You do quick work.”

“We try,” Nancy said. “You might want to take a look at it again. We found a timer.”

“Preset?”

“No. A receiver set the timer off, but from what I can gather, there was no way to terminate the timer once it was engaged.”

Je

“So it seems.”

“Anything else?”

Milton stood and turned to the blinds behind his chair. He parted them and looked down at the street. “So what does your crystal ball tell you on this one, Agent Peters?”

“It’s early.”

“Humor me.”

They were undoubtedly thinking Riddle Killer, but she went with a conservative analysis.

“Best guess, we have a white male who is extremely angry, but not angry enough to compromise his precision or method. He’s smart. And he knows it. He knew what kind of bomb to build, how to place it, how to detonate without detection. In fact, he knew that Mr. Parson would escape unharmed, and he knew that his riddle would go unsolved. That’s why he didn’t bother wasting resources on a termination switch.”

“Random victim?” Nancy asked.

“Nothing with this guy is random. If the victim isn’t a past acquaintance, then he was selected for specific reasons. His profession, his habits, the way he combs his hair.”

“Which is why Parson’s insistence that he doesn’t know anyone who might hold a grudge doesn’t add up,” Milton said.

“Not necessarily. You’re a cop who can list a hundred people who would take your head off, given the opportunity. The average citizen doesn’t have those kinds of enemies. We’re dealing with someone who’s probably insane—a sideways look on a train could mark you as his next target.” She paused. “That’s what I would say based solely on what you’ve given me. But as it turns out, I have more.”

“Riddle Killer,” Nancy said.

Je

“He used riddles, but did he ever notkill a victim?” Milton asked.

“You’re right; this one’s different. All five of his victims were given one riddle and then killed when they failed to solve it. Which means he’s not finished with Kevin Parson. He didn’t just blow up a car without hurting anyone for the fun of it. He’s stretching himself. He’s bored. He wants a new challenge. Stringing together multiple riddles is the logical progression, but it also takes more time. He would have to study his mark well enough to sustain continued threats. That means lots of surveillance over many days. It’s one thing to pull off one stunt. This guy’s pla

“This guy gave a name,” Bransford said. “Slater. The Riddle Killer remained nameless.”

“Again. A progression, in my opinion.” Je

“Don’t let the size fool you; we don’t know as much as you might think. There’s a lot of psychological profile data in here. When it comes to evidence, this guy’s as clean as they come. None of the bodies was abused in any way. The first four were asphyxiated; the last was killed with a bomb. All four asphyxiated bodies were reported to the police by the killer himself and left on park benches. For all practical purposes they were evidence-free. This killer finds satisfaction in the game more than the actual killing. The killing is only a prop, something that provides stakes high enough to make the game interesting.”

She put her hand on the file. The green edges were worn white from use, mostly her own. She could practically recite the contents, all 234 pages. A full half of the writing was hers.

“A copy of the file is being reproduced for each of you as we speak. I’ll be happy to answer any questions once you’ve had a chance to review it. Has there been any additional contact with the victim?”

“Not today,” Milton said. “We have a team on the way to sweep his house. He found some bugs. More accurately, a friend of his found six of them throughout the house. A Samantha Sheer called us this morning. She’s co

“No.”

He gri

“She gave you that?”

He nodded. “Pretty smart. On the other hand, there are too many fingers in this pot already, and the case is less than a day old.”

“The case is a year old,” Je

He hesitated. “Not yet. Like I said—”

“You left him alone overnight?” Je

Milton’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Who do you think we’re dealing with here, a cub scout? Do you even know if Parson’s still alive?”

“We are under no standing threat,” Milton said. “There is no direct evidence that this is the Riddle Killer. Kevin insisted he was—”

“The victim’s in no position to know what’s best for himself.” Je

“Of course.”

“Where are you going?” Milton asked.

“To see Parson. As far as we know, he’s the only living victim of the Riddle Killer. Our first job is to keep him that way. I’d like to spend a few minutes with him before your people start tearing up his house. An associate of mine, Bill Galager, will be here shortly. Please treat him with the same graciousness you’ve extended to me.”

Je

Not after she’d led the Riddle Killer to Roy.

Why is that, Je