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Halifax, October 24
2:20 p.m.
With Greek features and a head shaved so smooth it gleamed, Detective Denis Gagnon reminded Audra of Telly Savalas. Dressed in a purple blazer and gray trousers, he carried himself with an air of confidence, if she’d ever seen one.
They set to work in the boardroom because it allowed them more space. Case files from four murders covered the sixteen-foot conference table. Allan sat to Audra’s left, reading over autopsy reports. Denis Gagnon sat opposite them, reviewing the Driscow and Saint-Pierre crime-scene reports. Audra studied photographs from the two murders in Arrowhead Provincial Park.
She saw Hailey Pringle’s bludgeoned body first. She was a light-skinned girl with a slim build. The suspect had left her facedown on the park trail. Blood saturated her blond hair as well as the crushed gravel beneath her head.
“He struck her several times,” Audra said.
“It was a brutal attack,” Denis said. “The medical examiner said her skull was crushed.”
“The suspect would’ve gotten Hailey’s blood on him. Probably a lot, from what I see here.”
“I know. And nobody saw a man covered in blood that day.”
“That’s the way it usually goes,” Audra said.
She picked up another photo showing Hailey alive and well. She stood in the middle of a suspension bridge that hung over a lush forest canopy. She was squinting against the sun, a closed smile on a face softened with innocence.
Audra turned the photo over. Someone’s handwriting said: Monteverde Rainforest.
“Her husband gave me that,” Denis said. “Taken while they were vacationing in Costa Rica six months before.”
Audra felt a stab of sadness. “Did they have kids?”
Denis shook his head. “Hailey’s mother calls me every second Friday. Asks me if I got any updates. Four years now. She’s still looking for closure.”
“You ever hear from the husband?”
“I did for a few months after the murder. Then nothing. He remarried a year later.”
“Was he ever a suspect?” Allan asked him.
Denis nodded. “Only because he was a statistical probability. One-third of women are murdered by someone they know. But according to everyone I interviewed, he and Hailey were happy. No financial problems. No mention of abuse, infidelity, or jealousy.”
“How’d he take the news of Hailey’s death?” Allan asked.
“Bad.” Denis winced. “Bad and...genuine. You know?”
“Yeah,” Allan said in a quiet voice. “I know.”
Audra went back to the crime-scene photos of Hailey Pringle. She focused on the woman’s bare wrists below the cuffs of her scarlet jacket. No rings on her fingers, either.
“Were any of her personal effects missing?” she asked.
Denis said, “Her watch and wedding ring.”
“Were they valuable?”
“Ring was about four thousand. Had a point-forty-five-carat diamond in it. The watch, a hundred bucks. Nothing fancy. Pawnshops in Ontario are required to report any jewelry received by them. Nobody tried to cash in either item. For the longest time, I wondered if robbery precipitated the attack.”
“We had no robbery in our cases,” Audra said. “What about Li Chen? Anything missing from him?”
Denis lowered his eyes. “No,” he said. “The killer left behind his wallet, watch, and wedding ring. Sixty dollars in the wallet.”
From the corner of her eye, Audra saw Allan look up from the reports. She waited a brief moment until Denis began reading again before she turned her face to Allan. As he met her gaze, the grim twist to his mouth told her he shared her skepticism—the Pringle and Chen murders didn’t seem to be related.
When Audra picked up the first photo of Li Chen, a chill rippled over her skin. What she saw bore an uncanny resemblance to Mary Driscow and Kate Saint-Pierre.
Li Chen lay face up on the mossy ground, his face turned toward the camera. His eyes were bloodred, and a prominent ligature mark drew a purple line over his throat. The suspect had severed every fingertip at the DIP joint.
He fought back, Audra told herself. Just like Kate Saint-Pierre.
Li Chen looked to be a short man, dressed in a red-checkered shirt and cargo pants. He still had a black camera bag slung over his shoulder.
Pictures of the surrounding area showed the suspect had concealed Chen within a stand of trees. Audra dug through the autopsy photos, choosing a close-up of the ligature mark.
“Whoa.” She held up the photo for Allan. “Check this out.”
His eyes lit up. “Shit.”
“Similar, isn’t it?”
“Yup.”
Denis asked, “What’s that?”
“The weave pattern in the ligature,” Allan said. “Looks like the one in our cases.”
“Lemme see.”
Audra gave Denis the photo. He compared it to close-ups of Mary Driscow and Kate Saint-Pierre.
Eventually, he said, “Yes, yes. I’m really starting to think the cases are connected.”
Audra shrugged. “I’m reserving judgment right now.”
“Yeah?” Denis looked at Allan. “You?”
Allan spread his hands. “I’m cautiously optimistic about one. Not so much the other.”
“Hailey Pringle. You don’t think she’s part of this vicious cycle?”
“The crime-scene characteristics don’t add up for me. Sorry.”
Denis frowned. “Like what?”
“He left her body as is. Why didn’t he hide it like the others?”
“Maybe he got spooked. Someone was coming.”
“Different cause of death too.”
Denis tapped a finger on the tabletop. Then he loosened his tie so the knot hung by his sternum.
“I respect your opinion, Detective,” he said. “But I’m sticking to my gut on this.”
Allan thumbed his ear. “I know what it’s like to have a case like yours. You take it personally. It becomes a case you have to solve. Not only for the victims’ families, but for yourself. That emotional investment can cause you to lose focus.
“Last year, shortly after I submitted the Mary Driscow case to ViCLAS, they found a potential link to an unsolved rape and murder in a town not two hours from here. Same cause of death. Similar murder site. The suspect even left her posed.
“From all appearances, the cases seemed to be connected. But there were also differences—”
“Such as?” Denis asked.
“Weave pattern in the ligature. I had DNA evidence. They didn’t.”
“I’m assuming you’re telling me this because these cases ended up not being related?”
Allan nodded. “They caught the man involved in that case last spring. He’d abducted a young woman right from her home. Drove her to a wooded area and tried to rape her. Luckily, she escaped.
“Police tracked him down soon after. They found evidence at his place linking him to the other murder. When I looked into him, I discovered he had lived in Mary Driscow’s neighborhood at one time. That made me excited. It convinced me that I had my man.”
“Obviously, you didn’t,” Denis said.
A distant stare crossed Allan’s eyes. “DNA cleared him.”
Audra watched him for a moment.
“Well,” she said. “For the sake of arguing, let’s say these cases are related. What do we know about the victims?”
“There are no links between them,” Denis said. “One male. Three females.”
Audra nodded. “Their ages vary from twenty-two to thirty-four. They come from various backgrounds.”
“Why does he choose them?” Allan said. “They have no specific physical or personal characteristics.”
The room went quiet for a good minute.
Denis spoke first. “Maybe he initially starts off looking for someone specific. His dream victim, so to speak. But he finds they’re not easy to come by. So he settles for a substitute instead.”
“That’s possible,” Allan said. “What if he’s just picking people at random?”
Denis widened his eyes. “That’s a scary assertion.”
Audra chimed in, “Can we agree he never knew any of them?”
“Yes,” Denis said.
Allan gave her a single nod.
Audra added, “He used a con approach or surprise attack on each victim.”
“No sexual patterns to the crimes,” Allan said.
“Uh.” Denis scratched at his cheek. “I read something in Driscow’s autopsy report. The ME determined sexual interaction.”
“Based on a suction lesion,” Allan said. “Yeah, Coulter and I had this discussion the other day.”
“Did he make a mistake?”
“No. That’s where the DNA came from, after all. It’s just that I felt I’d put too much of my focus on the sexual aspect of the crime.”
“Okay,” Denis said.
Audra flipped her gaze from one man to the other. “The suspect’s targeting area is similar.”
“Parks,” Allan said.
Audra turned to Denis. “The areas where Chen and Pringle were found, are they only accessible by foot?”
“Yes. Yours?”
Audra nodded. “What’s that tell us about the suspect?”
Allan folded his arms. “He’s physically fit. Maybe he’s into jogging. Hiking. Likes the outdoors.”
“Driscow and Saint-Pierre were murdered in Octobers,” Denis said. “Li Chen in a June. Hailey Pringle in September.”
“Three people strangled,” Allan said. “One bludgeoned.”
Denis looked at him. “He chooses a method that brings him into close contact with his victims.”
“Almost intimate,” Audra said. “Maybe you were right, Al.”
Denis leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Right about what?”
“Al thinks this guy might be a thrill killer.”
“Hmm.” Denis looked up to the ceiling and exhaled. “He gets off on the rush. Interesting.”
“I’m leaning toward that theory,” Allan said. “Take out the sexual motivator, and what’re you left with?”
Denis smiled. “Uh-huh.”
“If these cases are related,” Audra said, “he’s killing interprovincially.”
Allan lifted his eyebrows. “Then where’s he from? Here, there, or somewhere else?”
Audra shrugged. “There’s a bigger question—are these his only victims?”
