Still, that’s not what I thought the staging of the body parts was trying to do. And why did I continue to think Kang’s killer also did my hiker? Aside from the medical examiner’s findings and my hunch, nothing more connected the two crimes. Unless…
I pulled out my phone and dialed.
“Kang, here.”
“Kyle, you’ve got it turned around.”
“Abby is this you?”
“Yes, it’s me. Did you hear what I said? The motivation — it’s wrong. Your guy isn’t collecting.”
“What is he doing?”
“He’s thrill killing.”
Chapter 16
I wasn’t far from the Central Precinct, so I told Kang and Sokolov to meet me at the vic’s home while I waited for CSI to show and process the scene. The detectives were speedy and arrived in ten minutes. As they approached, I pointed to the bush.
Kang leaned in and immediately reeled his head back, his expression soured. “I can smell it. How did you know to look here?”
“I didn’t. I was looking at the victim’s home when the sparkle from the ring caught my eye. I’m assuming your guy placed it here.”
Kang stepped out of the way, and Sokolov moved in for a look. He wasn’t fazed one bit by the slightly decomposed limb. “Good catch,” the Russian said.
“That’s it? Good catch?”
He shrugged as he looked at me. I had inadvertently riddled the man.
“It’s the victim’s middle finger. There’s symbolism behind it.”
“He’s giving us the middle finger?” Kang asked.
“Close. Look at the house. It’s a renovated Victorian, picture perfect and probably photographed by every passerby. The way the killer placed the finger on the bush, it’s as if it were giving the home the middle finger.”
“Wait, I’m confused,” Kang said, lumping himself in the same camp as his partner. “Earlier you talked about thrill killing, and now you’re talking about a middle finger.”
“Serial killers can be categorized by their motives. Hedonistic is one of the categories. Killers that fall in this category derive immense pleasure from killing.”
“So our guy loves killing.”
“Exactly, but not any type of killing. There’s no sex, so he’s not driven by lust, and he doesn’t rob his victims, so it appears that money isn’t a motivator. He’s killing for thrills. He enjoys causing fear and even pain in his victims. He likes to see their eyes before, during, and after he kills them. It’s most telling.”
“Sounds like a real bastard.”
“Very much so. It’s all about the kill itself. Once it’s over, they move on. So they can be very opportunistic or specific. It depends on their moods or their urges.”
Kang rested his hands on his hips. “Okay. Say I buy into the thrill kill angle. Why go through the extra trouble of cutting off the finger and placing it outside her home?”
“I struggled with that exact same thought but it dawned on me. Victorian homes, the gold rush and redwood trees are all symbols of San Francisco.”
“That’s how you’re tying the three cases together?” Kang said a bit flippantly.
“It’s how I am now.”
Both men stood quietly, not saying a word. I was losing them. I couldn’t fault them; they were looking at the facts and it sounded like I kept switching my thoughts on the killer’s motivation. I had initially bought Kang’s theory that the killer was a collector, but it was mostly because that’s all they had, and it was a good start.
Finally, Kang cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Agent, are you sure you’re not trying too hard to tie your case to ours?”
“Positive.”
Kang shifted his weight. His expression told me he was finding it difficult to keep an open mind to the case. “Okay, then I think you need to help us out here. You’re asking us to change our motivation based on your hunch that all three victims have the same killer. Honestly, I’m not seeing this thread.”
“That’s because you want a thread where A plus B equals C. The mind of a killer doesn’t necessarily work that way. If someone collects things, they don’t normally leave it someplace else. They take it with them. Cutting off a body part and leaving it elsewhere isn’t collecting.”
“It is still mutilation, and that’s what connects our two cases and makes your hiker the third wheel. And, if I might add, you sound irritated that we’re not taking your word as gospel.”
Bite your tongue, Abby. Their fault isn’t with you; it’s their lack of knowledge. I let out a breath and responded with as much control as I could muster. “That sort of statement usually comes from people who think they know everything. I expected better from SFPD’s finest. Remember, your department reached out to us for our expertise with serial killers.”
At that point, I began to wag my finger at them like they were children. Probably a little overboard, but he had pissed me off. “This isn’t a random shooting or a gang-banging incident, so investigating it like it is one is exactly why you’re having a hard time grasping my methodology that ties these three cases together. So I’m—”
“This has gone far enough, we don’t—”
“Do. Not. Interrupt. Me.”
Sokolov stood stone-faced, while Kang’s face showcased a range of emotions from shock to resentment. I should have been able to contain the situation and not let it get to that point. But I honestly didn’t expect this sort of pushback from Kang. He didn’t come across as the typical detective. He had smarts. They both did. Maybe that’s why it irritated me. “Look, I’m sorry. We all want to catch this guy, and I know it seems like we, or I, might be grasping, but trust me, there’s sound thinking behind what I’m suggesting.”
The two detectives looked at each other, then back at me. “Go on, Abby,” Sokolov said. “We’re listening.”
I’m not one to shy away from admitting I’m wrong. I’ve been wrong plenty, but I’ve been right more. And my gut told me I was right about this one. “Let’s get back to the SF tie-in: gold rush, redwood trees and Victorian homes. This is the connection, not your body mutilation and not three murders in a specific time frame. San Francisco is what connects these three victims.”
“So he could be making a statement about the city through things that represent San Francisco.”
“Right. The Painted Ladies are a huge tourist attraction. Victorian architecture is as much of a part of this city as the hills are. It’s what gives the city its charm.”
“So our guy doesn’t like Victorian homes, and this is his way of saying it,” Kang continued.
“I think you’re in the ballpark.”
Sokolov snapped his fingers. “Panning for gold. The teeth in the gold pan are his way of paying homage to the San Francisco gold rush.”
“Yes!” I said, pointing at him. “And the hiker. Well, the tallest living thing in the world is a redwood tree. The ones in Muir Woods are protected and can’t be chopped down, but our guy found something else to chop down.”
“A tall girl,” Kang finished.
The three of us stood on the sidewalk quietly, letting the conversation sink in as the first vehicle of the CSI crew arrived. We’d had a breakthrough on the motivation, and the City by the Bay had a serial killer.
Chapter 17
After Kang had a few units from SFPD set up a perimeter and I had briefed CSI, we headed back to Central Precinct. Kang had commandeered the small interrogation room and turned it into our war room. He and I began making lists of San Francisco icons as well as popular attractions in the city and pinning them up on the corkboard next to a large map of the city which had the locations of the bodies identified by colored thumbtacks. I was busy adding to the list on the board when the door opened and Sokolov entered the room. He had a look of despair on his face, and his shoulders hung lower than usual.