Silent Killer Page 0,51
sized him up: mid-to-late thirties; about six-two; wavy, black hair in need of cutting; intelligent dark eyes; and an easy smile that projected self-confidence.
“Jackson Perdue?” the man asked.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
“I’m Derek Lawrence.” The former FBI profiler offered his hand.
Jack shook hands with the guy. “I didn’t expect you to show up. I thought you’d just call or e-mail.”
“That was the original plan when Maleah first asked me to come in on this case. But once I received the information and went over it, I realized that I’d never seen a situation quite like this before. Your killer fascinates me.”
Jack looked Derek right in the eye. “Does he? Why is that?”
“He—or she—has chosen unlikely victims—clergymen. And his method is not only cruel and painfully violent, it sends a message, one that our killer wants the world to hear.”
Jack nodded. “Have a seat. I want to hear your theory.” Jack hitched his thumb in the general direction of the coffeemaker. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
Jack pulled up an empty chair and placed it in front of his desk. The two men settled into their seats, the desk separating them, and then Jack asked, “What message is our killer sending?”
“You’ve probably already figured it out. Our killer is saying—no, he or she is screaming, ‘I hate you. I’m punishing you, and I want you to burn for your sins, for what you did to me.’”
Jack grunted. “So we’re dealing with a person who at some point in his or her life was somehow wronged by a clergyman, and now he’s killing that minister or priest over and over again?”
“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.”
“Like you said, we figured that our killer hates preachers, but I don’t see how knowing this helps us catch the guy.”
“It doesn’t,” Derek said. “I’ve gone through ViCAP—the FBI’s Violent Criminal Apprehension Program data base—and come up with similar crimes, but none that are actual matches to your three Fire and Brimstone murders. Setting people on fire isn’t something new. And clergymen have been killed before. What we have to concentrate on is what makes these three crimes different and what links them together.”
“You’re the expert. You tell me.”
“Your killer doesn’t fall completely into either the organized or disorganized offender category, but that’s not unusual. An offender doesn’t always reflect all the crime-scene characteristics or personal characteristics of one or the other.”
“Look, you’re going to have to speak plain English to me,” Jack admitted. “I’m new at this. I’m an ex-soldier. My experience is limited. I’ve been with the sheriff’s department for only a few weeks.”
Derek eyed Jack speculatively. “I’m surprised the sheriff chose you to work on the task force.”
“The sheriff assigned the department’s cold cases to me, sort of a way to break me in, I guess. The Cantrell murder was one of those cases.”
“Even so, I’d have thought he’d put a more seasoned deputy on the task force. Do you feel as if you’re in over your head?”
“Maybe.” Jack shrugged. “Guess I’ll learn as I go. And I did bring in an expert to help us out, didn’t I?”
Derek chuckled. “Yes, so you did. That probably earned you a few brownie points with your boss.”
Jack grinned. “So tell me, Mr. Expert, all about how you can’t pigeonhole our killer.”
“Be glad to. It’s simple. The killer planned these murders, chose his victims in advance and personalized the victims, all characteristics of an organized killer. But on the other hand, he probably knew his victims or at least knew who they were. He left his victims in plain view at the scene of the crime, and with the use of gasoline and the Pocket Torch lighters left at the scene, the weapon couldn’t be hidden. Those are all characteristics of a disorganized killer.”
“A killer with a split personality?”
“Our killer is what we refer to as a ‘mixed personality,’ which is actually fairly common.”
“Are you saying that in trying to come up with a profile of our killer, you’ve struck out?”
“No, I wouldn’t say that.” Derek grinned. “How about that cup of coffee?”
“Cream? Sugar?” Jack asked.
“Black.”
Jack got up, went to the coffeemaker and poured two Styrofoam cups three-fourths full of the strong, black brew. He returned to his desk, handed Derek one of the cups and sat back down.
After taking a couple of sips, Derek said, “We assume the same person killed the two ministers and the priest. Why?”
“All three victims were clergymen. All three lived within a fifty-mile radius of one another. All three