The Anniversary Man (20 page)

Ferrell paused.

′So?′ Raphael prompted.

′There was something about it that reminded me of something. I checked out a few of the phrases in the letter on the net, and I found out whose letter it was.′

′Whose letter?′ Farraday asked. ′What d′you mean?′

′Whoever sent this just transcribed an existing letter into Zodiac code and then sent it to us. It′s not a Zodiac letter at all, it′s a letter from another serial killer.′

′Name?′ Farraday asked.

′Arthur John Shawcross—′

′Oh God,′ Ray Irving exclaimed. ′The Genesee River killings.′

Farraday turned, surprised. ′Ray?′

′Shawcross,′ Irving said. ′We got a Shawcross replica this morning . . . Eric Vincent at the Seventh.′

′This morning . . . how the hell do you know about it already?′

Irving reached into his inside jacket pocket and took out the folded pages. He spread them out on his knee, and then handed them to Farraday.

′What′s this? Where did these come from?′

′Long story,′ Irving replied.

Farraday nodded, rose to his feet. ′We′re going to take this letter with us,′ he told Raphael. ′This is part of something a lot bigger.′

′Understood,′ Raphael said, ′but we need a story, Captain Farraday.′

Farraday smiled drily. ′Don′t know that this is a story you want.′

′This is The New York Times . . . the story we don′t want doesn′t exist.′

′This is not a small matter,′ Farraday replied. ′This is more than likely going to the Chief of Police. After that . . . well, after that I don′t know what′ll happen.′

′You can′t just take the thing, it was sent to us.′

′You want me to get a storm going?′ Farraday asked. ′I can do the DA phone call now, or we can have an agreement here, Mr Raphael.′

Raphael shook his head. ′Do what you have to,′ he said resignedly, ′but we want whatever story comes out of it as an exclusive.′

′Police department doesn′t give exclusives, you know that.′

′So first up on the press conference, however this thing comes out.′

′If it comes out.′

′So if it comes out we get first call on the conference, agreed?′

Farraday extended his hand and they shook.

The captain said nothing until he and Irving reached the lobby, and then he slowed up and stopped. ′Who was at the Ninth?′ he asked.

′Lucas, Richard Lucas.′

′And this thing this morning?′

′Eric Vincent at the Seventh.′

′Anyone else?′

′Patrick Hayes at the Third and Gary Lavelle at the Fifth - a triple homicide in the first week of August.′

′Get them all together,′ he said. ′Call them all, tell them to come to us. We have to talk about this.′

′Vincent I might not be able to get,′ Irving said. ′He went off-shift this morning, has his kid′s birthday.′

′Tell him there′ll be other birthdays . . . we need everyone involved in this before the rest of the city finds out what the fuck is going on.′

B
y the time everyone had been contacted it was close to three in the afternoon. Irving had stayed in Farraday′s office, had told him what he knew about the sequence of killings, the dates, the anniversaries, about Karen Langley and John Costello. By one-thirty Chief of Police Anthony Ellmann realized something was going on. There was a brief call to Farraday, another to each of the captains at the relevant precincts. Each were given their instructions: there would be a meeting at the Fourth Precinct house at five that afternoon. No-one would be late. Deputy Coroner Hal Gerrard would be there, though Chief Ellmann himself would not attend; he had a meeting with the Mayor on an unrelated matter, but he wanted a full debrief in writing before close of business that day. Farraday had been assigned as co-ordinator until further notice. Once a specific course of action was decided upon, Chief Ellmann would review resources and reassign as he felt necessary. Their immediate task was to determine if indeed there was a pattern and connection to these killings and, if so, to pool their forensic and investigative results, establish a critical path analysis, propose a means and method by which the perpetrator or perpetrators would be arrested and secured for arraignment. All of this without creating any liability regarding the execution of their usual duties, the resolution of any other ongoing cases. Simple in theory; in reality - as was always the case - an entirely different matter.

Farraday cleared out the homicide department offices. He removed all partitions from the open-plan area, had three tables pushed together, sent for whiteboards and an overhead projector.

Close to half past four the Fourth Precinct became a confusion of activity as people were directed from the lobby. Uniforms had been assigned as ushers for the arriving detectives and CSAs, and files were ferried by the armful from the backs of vehicles and up the stairs to the third floor.

The attending CSA for each of the relevant cases arrived one by one, the assigned detectives also, and Ray Irving had already established a focal point for their discussion. At the head of the table he had stationed a large whiteboard, and on it had written the names of the current victims, alongside them the names of the original killers whose crimes appeared to have been replicated. Present - if not in body, but certainly in spirit - were some of the most extreme and sadistic serial killers that the U.S. had ever known. Beneath their names Irving had written their respective dates of birth and, where relevant, of execution; and in the case of those still within the federal penitentiary system, their last-known place of incarceration. Despite having access to the federal database, Irving had found it surprisingly difficult to determine the location of some of these people, but not Shawcross - ironic, considering he was the last man represented. Shawcross would not have been included had it not been for the discovery of Carol-Anne Stowell that morning and John Costello′s subsequent delivery of documents to Irving. Arthur John Shawcross, Irving had learned, welcomed correspondence from anyone, and made his prisoner number and his address at Sullivan Correctional Facility in Fallsburg easily available on numerous websites. Even as the detectives gathered, Shawcross was languishing in a cell no more than eighty miles from where they sat.

Additionally, Irving had taken the initiative and copied the draft newspaper article, placing a copy ahead of each chair at the meeting. It was the first thing that the collective attendees read, and it was Karen Langley′s article that established the foundation of their meeting.

Bill Farraday, unfamiliar with the protocol of such a meeting, nevertheless directed the proceedings. He fielded initial doubts regarding the article, dealt with the fusillade of questions that followed, and grounded the potentially heated debate that would otherwise have ensued by determining the parameters within which they were working.

Farraday rose from his chair and took steps toward the whiteboard.

′What we have here,′ he said quietly, ′is a series of possibilities. That′s all we have. If we consider that there is no link between these events . . .′ He paused, smiled wryly. ′Then we have the most extraordinary case of coincidence that has ever been witnessed.′ He looked at the gathered faces, each of them intent, focused. ′We have to assume, and I use the word assume reservedly . . . we have to assume that there is a connection.′

Lucas raised his hand. ′I don′t think anyone is questioning the fact that these are related . . . I think we have to consider the possibility that we are very late in the game.′

′How so?′

′Who says that the Grant girl was the first?′ Lucas asked rhetorically. ′This might have been going on for years. We have absolutely no idea.′

′I think I have an answer for that,′ Irving said. ′I believe we have someone who wants us to know what he is doing.′

′That′s a significant assumption,′ Lucas interjected. ′Why do you think that?′

′Three reasons,′ Irving replied. ′Firstly, the phone call after the double murder. Ashley Burch and Lisa Briley. For as I understand that call came through the Ninth′s switchboard so we′ll never trace it. He could have made the call himself with voice modulation software, he could have paid someone to do it. Who the hell knows. Secondly, in the case of James Wolfe, the perp went to the trouble of painting the boy′s face like a clown. Gacy never did that. He never painted anyone′s face but his own. Whoever did that did it because he wanted us to get the connection. And this morning, the fact that we found this girl′s body and she was dressed the way she was dressed, that hair had been torn from her scalp, and her eyes had been removed . . . these things should have been enough to give us the connection to Shawcross and the Anne Marie Steffen case.′ He paused. ′But no, he wanted to make really sure we got it, hence the letter to The Times. He uses the Zodiac code to give us the Shawcross letter.′

′Why the Zodiac code?′

′Theory again,′ Irving said, ′but the thought I had was that he wants us to know that he′s smarter than all of them . . . Zodiac included. The previous perps were all caught, a couple of them executed, but not Zodiac—′

′So why not just do a Zodiac-style killing, why send a letter?′

′Perhaps he is only replicating killings of people who were caught,′ Irving said.

′This is all supposition and assumption,′ Gary Lavelle said. ′I saw the way that girl had been thrown under the Queensboro Bridge. Whoever did that battered the crap out of her. A mile away we get two boys shot to hell and put inside the trunk of a car. Whatever the hell we′re dealing with, whoever this guy is trying to be, we′re still faced with the very real fact that we have at least eight victims and no co-ordinated line of investigation. Already this has been going on since . . . well, since when?′

′First one, at least the first we know of, was Mia Grant back at the start of June,′ Irving said.

′So more than two months this has been going on, and where the hell are we?′

′Where we are,′ Farraday said, ′is exactly where we need to be, but the reason we′re here is not actually because of what we have or haven′t done, but because of this proposed newspaper article.′

′And what, may I ask, is the story with that?′ Vincent asked.

′There is a group of citizens,′ Irving said slowly. ′A group of people, how many I don′t know, who meet in the Winterbourne Hotel on West 37th on the second Monday of every month. As far as I can understand they are all survivors of serial-killer attacks—′

′What?′ Lavelle asked. ′You′re not telling me that we′ve got a group of vigilantes?′

Irving shook his head. ′I don′t know what we′ve got. One of the members is a guy called John Costello. He′s Karen Langley′s researcher at the City Herald, and he was the one who put two and two together on these killings.′

′He′s a suspect?′ Lucas asked.

′I don′t know what he is. He′s not a straightforward guy. He′s a little left-of-center, but I don′t think that Karen Langley is the brains behind the article. I think he is. I think he does the work, she writes the articles and takes the byline because he doesn′t want the attention. Truth is, I don′t know. I don′t know what Costello′s story is, and I don′t know what the best course of action is as far as he′s concerned. We may have something completely innocent here, just a smart guy who knows a great deal about serial killers. He′s a crime journalist′s researcher, for God′s sake, he′s supposed to know this shit. The mere fact that he put two and two together so quickly . . . well, that′s another reason I suspect these killings don′t go back further than Mia Grant. If they did I think we would have seen this article sooner.′

′Okay, so he wrote the article,′ Lucas said. ′Anything else?′

Irving nodded. ′Within a couple of hours of this hooker being found this morning he delivered Arthur John Shawcross′s biography to me here.′

′You′re not serious?′

′As can be,′ Irving replied.

′And who the fuck is this Shawcross anyway?′ Lavelle asked.

Irving shook his head.

Hannah Doyle, Hayes′ CSA from the Third, put her hand up at the far end of the table. ′I know a little about him, he was one of my research papers. He was called The Monster of the Rivers, also the Genesee River Killer. He claims to have killed fifty-three people, but they′ve officially only attributed thirteen to him. Usual history for serial killers . . . juvenile sadism, torturing animals, graduating to burglary and arson. The standard pattern, you know - unable to connect with people, difficulty managing relationships, accident-prone. He saw some military service, and did close on two years in Attica for attempted robbery and arson back in the early seventies. When he came out he got married - round April of ′72, I think . . . Couple of weeks later he killed a ten-year-old boy, then three or four months after that he raped and strangled an eight-year old girl. They got him for that and he did nearly fifteen years, some in Attica, some in Greenhaven. He came out in early ′87, killed again in ′88, and then the next one was this Anne Marie Steffen in September of the same year. He was picked up again sometime around 1990, confessed to however many additional killings, and he′s now doing two-fifty in Sullivan.′

′That′s up in Fallsburg, right?′ Vincent asked.

′Same place as Berkowitz.′

′Berkowitz?′ Lucas asked.

′Son of Sam,′ Hannah Doyle said.

′So this gets us where?′ Farraday asked. ′We know something about these people, the killers who are being copied, but what does it tell us about the copycat?′

′None of these original killers are out on parole,′ Deputy Coroner Gerrard said. ′Is that correct?′

′Far as I can gather,′ Irving said, ′we have Carignan in Minnesota Correctional, Carol Bundy was given life but is eligible for parole. Douglas Clark is on Death Row in San Quentin, Jack Murray is dead. Gacy was executed in Stateville in 1994, and Kenneth McDuff in the Walls in Texas in November ′98. And Shawcross, who′s in Sullivan and won′t be coming out.′