Reed twisted his torso in the opposite direction and pointed at the list of falling victims on the board. “We believe our killer is taking it as a literal command.”
He pointed back at the eyeless victims. “Those are the blind. Selfish. Greedy. Exploitative. According to this killer.” And according to Reed, frankly, though that wasn’t really relevant. He pointed in the other direction at the falling victims. “Those are the demons. The true victimizers. He’s playing the whole story out.”
A low buzz started near the back of the room and again the sergeant held up his hand. “Detectives Carlyle and Pagett and I are reading through the editions, and I’ve ordered the ones not locally available. There’s a lot to go through, and there’s a plotline that follows the fates of five angels who were mistakenly sent to the realm of Hell. They each have an individual story, but they share that common bond.”
Reed turned to the sergeant and the sergeant nodded. Reed looked back at the group. “Again, we’re still reading through the material so something more may become obvious. If it does, we’ll share it.” He glanced around. “Does anyone have questions?”
A newer detective near the back raised his hand. “Those angels born in Hell? Who are they to him? If anyone?”
“We don’t know for sure,” Reed said. “They might be specific, they might just be indicative of a type of person, for instance, abuse victims.” And if so, that would include Liza.
“Does that mean he’s one?” the same detective asked. “An abuse victim? Who is he in the story?”
“Again, we don’t have the answer to that yet. He might not be anyone. He might just be using the story to exact justice for those he believes have been wronged.”
“Is this biblical?”
“No. It basically contends that the Bible got it wrong. That this scenario”—he tapped the comic book—“is more accurate.”
“Have you talked about what the goal to acting this all out might be?” Detective Duffy asked, looking between Reed, Ransom, and Jennifer.
Reed shook his head. “We don’t know other than the satisfaction he would get from following this script he takes as gospel. He believes he has the power to make Heaven reign supreme, whatever that might mean to him. Righteousness, perhaps. What is clear is that he believes it to be true. He believes in this world order.”
“It’s just a story,” Duffy said.
“Not to him,” Reed answered. “To him it’s real.”
“So he’s a nutjob,” Duffy said.
“But we already knew that,” Jennifer answered.
Nutjob. Sure. But it’s more than that. It’s giving this guy meaning and purpose. Control. “It’s actually not that he’s a nutjob—”
“Oh, come on, Davies. This guy’s a psycho, lording heaven and hell over victims for sport,” Duffy stated.
“To us that’s what it is,” Reed said, recalling what he’d spoken with Liza about, the things she’d encouraged him to consider. “But we have to remember that this guy doesn’t think like us. To him this makes perfect sense. To him, this is justice.”
“Fuck. As if our job wasn’t hard enough. We have a guy believing he’s God,” Duffy muttered.
“See, Davies? Nutjob,” Ransom said, winking.
Reed gave him a wry smile. “All right. For now, nutjob works just fine,” Reed conceded, looking around.
“Any other questions?” Sergeant Valenti asked. There was a general murmur but no one else raised their hands.
“None of this has been released to the media, so I want to make it very clear that you’re not to discuss it outside this room? Capisce?”
The group nodded in agreement.
“Feel free to bring anything to us that you might consider helpful,” Reed said. “We’re working as quickly as we can on this so we can figure out how to stop this guy and appreciate anything that might help toward that end.” The other detectives started standing and gathering their things, walking to the door.
Everyone filed out, leaving Reed, Ransom, Jennifer, Olsen, and Sergeant Valenti in the room.
Sergeant Valenti stood. “I have a meeting with the chief in half an hour,” he said. “So I’m going to get out of here. Call me if anything comes up.”
They thanked him, and he too left the room. “Anything else before we get back to reading?” Reed asked.
“I’d just started looking more deeply into Sabrina McPhee’s history. She was raised by an aunt and uncle after she was removed from her home. I don’t have the details yet,” Jennifer said.
Reed made a hissing sound through his teeth. “That’s it. The link between Elizabeth Nolan, Milo Ortiz, and Sabrina McPhee.”
Jennifer nodded. “I have