Tags:
Fiction,
General,
Psychological fiction,
Mystery Fiction,
Police,
California,
Women Detectives,
Large Type Books,
Psychopaths,
Murder,
Policewomen,
Detectives,
Serial Murders,
Los Angeles (Calif.),
Los Angeles,
Police - California - Los Angeles,
Delaware; Alex (Fictitious character),
Sturgis; Milo (Fictitious character),
Connor; Petra (Fictitious Character),
Drive-By Shootings
psychopathâs favorite dump spot.
Pretty, today, under a true-blue sky barely blemished by wispy clouds.
Nice scene to paint. She should get her portable easel out here, find a cozy plein air spot, and go to town.
It had been a long time since sheâd painted anything with color.
As the drive stretched on, she told Isaac about being impressed by the wound patterns and everything else sheâd learned about the six murders.
He said, âSimilar dimensions.
That
I didnât notice.â
And none of the detectives had noticed June 28. âYouâd have to be looking for it.â
âIâll be more careful in the future,â said Isaac.
The future?
He said, âThat call from the phone booth is interesting. The possibility that it might be someone Mrs. Doebbler knew. What if Mr. Solis knew him as well? Someone familiar to all the victims.â
âI thought of that,â she said. âBut itâs a leap.â
âStill, itâs possible.â
âIf our killer was acquainted with all six victims, he had a pretty wide social network. Weâre talking runaways, male hustlers, executive secretaries, retirees, and that Navy ensign, Hochenbrenner. I havenât even looked at his file yet.â
Isaac was staring out at the desert. If heâd heard her little speech, it wasnât apparent. Finally, he said, âMr. Solis had breakfast food on his plate but the murder occurred around midnight.â
âPeople eat at odd hours, Isaac.â
âDid Mr. Solis?â
âDonât know,â she said. âWhat, you think the bad guy dished up sausage and eggs after bashing in Solisâs head and served it to a corpse?â
Isaac squirmed. Sheâd grossed him out and it gave her perverse satisfaction.
He said, âI really donât have much of a database from which to make a judgmentââ
âA culinary killer,â she cut him off. âAs if itâs not complicated enough.â
He kept quiet. The car got hot. Ten degrees warmer out here in the desert. A warm June to begin with.
June.
Today was the fourth. If there was anything to this craziness, someone else would die in twenty-four days.
She said, âSo have you come up with any other notable June 28 occurrences in the historical archives?â
âNothing profound.â He spoke quietly, kept his eyes aimed at the window. Intimidated?
Bad Petra, mean Petra. Heâs just a kid.
âTell me anything youâve found,â she said. âIt could be important.â
Isaac half turned toward her. âBasically, Iâve been logging into various almanacs, printed some lists. Long lists. But nothing jumps out. Here, Iâll show you what I mean.â
Snapping open his briefcase, he groped around, removed a batch of papers.
âI looked at birthdays and the farthest back I got was June 28, 1367, which is when Sigismund, the emperor of Hungary and Bohemia, was born.â
âWas he a bad guy?â
âYour basic autocratic king.â Isaacâs finger trailed down a long row of small-print items. âThen thereâs Pope Paul IV, the artist Peter Paul Rubens, another artist, Jean Jacques Rousseau, a few actorsâMel Brooks, Kathy Bates . . . like I said, it stretches on. Thatâs how I came up with John Dillinger.â
âAny bad guys other than Dillinger?â
âNot on the birthday list. When I looked at June 28 as a date of death, I found a few more. But none of them appear connected to this type of thing.â
âThis type of thing?â said Petra.
âA serial killer.â
The term set her teeth on edge. Too TV. Too damn hard to solve. She kept her voice light and pleasant. âWhich bad guys died that day?â
âPieter van Dort, a Dutch smuggler. They hanged him on June 28, 1748. Thomas Hickey, a Colonial soldier convicted of treason, was hung in 1776. Thereâs not much more until 1971, when
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