Heavy clouds had been slowly gathering above Downtown Los Angeles for most of the afternoon. At around five o’clock, the same time that Hunter and Garcia met back at the UVC Unit’s office, the first drops of rain finally began assaulting the city. The two detectives had barely gotten to their desks when Captain Blake sneaked up on them.
‘OK, what is this note that was found in the victim’s body?’ she asked.
Garcia, who had his back to the door and hadn’t seen the captain enter, jumped as the door closed behind her.
‘Damn, Captain, where did you come from? And do you have a tracker on us, or something? We literarily just got in.’
The captain scowled back at him. ‘This is my department. My floor. I’ve got eyes everywhere. So, the note. What’s that all about?’
While Garcia quickly ran Captain Blake through all the autopsy findings, including the note, Hunter connected his cellphone to his computer and printed out the photo he had taken of it.
‘ “Through these eyes, no one will ever look as perfect as you did.” ’ the captain read out loud before squinting at her detectives. ‘And this was left inside her vagina?’
Garcia nodded. ‘Inside a grip-seal plastic bag.’
‘I take it that both the note and the bag have already been sent to forensics for analysis and graphology?’
‘They have,’ Garcia confirmed.
‘There’s no need to bother with graphology any more,’ Hunter said, bringing everyone’s attention to him.
‘What do you mean?’ Garcia asked. ‘Why not?’
‘It’s Melissa Hawthorne’s handwriting,’ Hunter explained, approaching the picture board and pinning the photo printout onto it. ‘I talked to Janet earlier today, Melissa’s stepsister. I showed her the photo on my phone.’
‘And she was one hundred percent sure it’s her sister’s handwriting?’ Captain Blake asked.
‘She had no doubt.’
In silence, Captain Blake read the sentence one more time. ‘Do we know what that is? I mean… are those lyrics to a song? Is that a poem by someone? Words from a film? Were those the victim’s words or are they by the killer himself?’
‘I did a basic internet search,’ Hunter informed her. ‘It came back with nothing – no lyrics… no poem… no nursery rhyme… no movie line… nothing. At least nothing that has been published on the Net with those words in that exact sequence. I’ve already passed it on to our research team for a more in-depth search. Janet Lang also told me that as far as she knew, her sister wasn’t one to write poetry, or song lyrics, or anything similar to that…’ Hunter pointed to the board before continuing. ‘But I’m going to go back to Melissa’s house to have a look around. It’s not uncommon for people to have poetry, lyrics, even drawing as a secret hobby. Some people like to write down their innermost, personal thoughts… feelings… desires… whatever… but they do it for themselves, not for sharing.’
‘Like a secret diary,’ Captain Blake said.
‘Something similar, yeah.’
Captain Blake studied the photo on the board for a moment longer.
‘Regardless if these are the victim’s words or not,’ she said, ‘what’s the theory here? That the killer made her write this down before inserting it inside her and hanging her up by the mouth?’
Doubt danced in the curve of her words.
‘Presumably, yes.’ Hunter took a seat behind his desk.
Captain Blake coughed a breath. ‘Well, I’m no expert here, but to me, this reads like some sort of love declaration from a disgruntled ex-boyfriend… or a lover… or maybe someone she turned down? Some idiot whose pride she hurt.’
‘That’s very possible,’ Hunter accepted. ‘And that’s definitely one avenue that we’re going to pursue. Like it was mentioned this morning, Melissa ended her relationship with Kevin Garrison around six or seven months ago.’
‘Yeah, you said,’ the captain remembered. ‘He was cheating on her, right?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘But why make her write it down?’ Garcia asked, with a shrug. ‘It would make more sense if the killer had written it himself, don’t you think?’ He lifted a hand to stop all the comebacks. ‘Yes, I know that if the killer had handwritten the note himself, he would’ve been giving us his handwriting, but he could’ve printed it out, or something, don’t you think?’
‘Meaning,’ Hunter said.
Garcia heard a question. ‘Meaning exactly that,’ he retorted, nodding at his partner. ‘That he could’ve printed it out.’
Hunter shook his head. ‘It wasn’t a question. It was an answer. The killer made the victim write it down because it meant something to him. He wanted the note to be in her handwriting for a reason. There’s meaning behind everything he does. Trust me. And that would also be why he made her write it down more than once.’
‘More than once?’ The captain found that strange. ‘Why do you say that? Were earlier drafts found in her house?’
‘No. None.’ The answer came from Garcia, as he turned to Hunter. ‘Were there?’
Hunter shook his head. ‘No.’
Captain Blake looked more confused. ‘So how do you know that the killer made her write that down more than once?’
‘Have a look at the note again,’ Hunter said, pointing at the board.
Both Garcia and Captain Blake walked over to it and restudied the note. Each of them looked for something different.
Captain Blake squinted at the photo, trying to identify pre-existing grooves on the piece of paper behind the writing. She saw none.
Initially, Garcia looked for the same telltale signs, but quickly realized what he had missed.
‘The handwriting itself,’ he said, turning to face Hunter, who smiled back at him.
‘The handwriting?’ the captain asked, moving her attention to it.
‘It’s perfect,’ Garcia said.
It took another couple of seconds before the penny dropped for Captain Blake. ‘If the killer really did force the victim to write those words down before killing her, she would’ve been terrified and under duress, her hand would’ve been too unsteady. The handwriting would’ve been all over the place.’
‘No doubt,’ Hunter confirmed. ‘Which clearly isn’t the case here, and that leaves us with a few alternatives, but the two most probable ones are – the killer made the victim write those words down until the unsteadiness was gone from her handwriting, or the killer’s an expert forger.’
‘Could this really have been her ex-boyfriend?’ Captain Blake asked. ‘What’s his name again?’
‘Kevin Garrison,’ Garcia replied.
‘I ask that because this…’ The captain gestured at the whole board. ‘This isn’t a crime of passion. We’ve seen plenty of those and this isn’t it. This is hate and anger and everything that’s bad.’
‘Right now, we know very little about Kevin Garrison,’ Hunter said, consulting his notepad. ‘But finding him won’t be much of a problem. He trains at a gym in Culver City every morning. I’ll be paying them a visit tomorrow, but apparently, we also have a mystery guest.’
‘What do you mean, “mystery guest”?’ Captain Blake asked.
‘Janet also told me that Melissa was chatting to someone at the bar on Saturday night. Someone who didn’t seem to be a guest at Kelly-Ann’s birthday party.’
Captain Blake’s question was asked with simple eyebrow movement.
‘Kelly-Ann had a section of the Broken Shaker cocktail lounge reserved for her party,’ Hunter clarified. ‘But the bar was also open for regular customers. Janet and her boyfriend, Tom were just leaving when they saw Melissa and this mystery man at the bar. They went over to say goodbye… and they were introduced, but neither Janet nor Tom remember his name.’
‘Mark,’ Garcia said from his desk, as he flipped open his own pocket notepad. ‘The mystery man Melissa was chatting to at the bar? His name was Mark.’
Hunter and Captain Blake turned to look at him.
‘Kelly-Ann invited thirty-five people to her party,’ Garcia informed them. ‘The turnout was thirty-one. I talked to her and her boyfriend, plus eight other guests this afternoon – more to come. And you’re right,’ he said, addressing Hunter. ‘Melissa was chatting to someone at the bar who wasn’t a guest at the party. Kelly-Ann and her boyfriend saw them too, and so did three of the other eight guests I talked to.’ Garcia flipped a page on his notepad. ‘Kelly-Ann actually talked to him for a little while. Melissa introduced them. Kelly-Ann was one hundred percent sure that his name was Mark. She remembered it because it’s the same as her father’s.’
‘No last name?’ Captain Blake asked.
‘No,’ Garcia replied with a short laugh. ‘They met in a bar, Captain. How many people do you meet in a bar that introduced themselves using their last name as well?’
‘Most of them,’ the captain volleyed back.
‘This group is in their mid-twenties,’ Garcia countered.
‘OK, point taken. How about a facial composite? Or maybe even a photo? Nowadays everyone is snapping photos everywhere and all the time, aren’t they? I’d expect that at a birthday party, a lot of photos were taken. Maybe someone snapped this “Mark” character at the bar by chance. Maybe in the background?’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ Garcia replied. ‘I did ask Kelley-Ann, her boyfriend and all eight guests I talked to this afternoon if they had taken any photos at the party.’
‘And…?’
‘They all did. And obviously, Kelly-Ann and her boyfriend had loads, but the problem is that the bar was located right across the rooftop from the area that had been allocated for the party.’ He shook his head. ‘You couldn’t even see the bar in any of the photos that I looked at today, and I looked at every single one of them.’
‘CCTV cameras,’ Hunter suggested. ‘They probably have a couple at the bar area, but even if not, the Broken Shaker is the rooftop bar at the Freehand Hotel. To go up to the bar, everyone has to go through the lobby, and every hotel lobby has got CCTV.’
‘Once again, my thoughts exactly,’ Garcia agreed, ‘and I’ve already called the hotel to check. They do have CCTV cameras over at the bar area in the Broken Shaker. I’m going to go pay them a visit…’ He checked his watch. It was coming up to 5:30 p.m. ‘Right about now. Want to come along? They’re just a mile down the road.’
Before Garcia had even finished his sentence, Hunter had already reached for his jacket.