It was during this final reception that she would complete her work.
The Elementalist had taught her to see gold as the ultimate test of human character, the material that revealed whether people possessed the moral strength to resist corruption or would sacrifice everything for material gain. Throughout history, the pursuit of gold had brought out humanity's basest instincts—the willingness to enslave others, to destroy entire civilizations, to poison the earth itself in pursuit of precious metal.
San Francisco's Gold Rush represented all these failures in concentrated form. Her own family's story was intertwined with that history, though not in the way most people would expect. The Hartwells had owned mining claims in the Sierra Nevada foothills, not as prospectors seeking instant wealth, but as a family business passed down through generations. They had worked their claims responsibly, employing local residents at fair wages and using techniques that minimized environmentaldamage. And she, as a Hartwell, was connected to all of that whether she wanted to be or not.
Corporate mining companies with access to massive capital had literally washed away entire mountainsides, destroying the careful work of small-scale miners like her family while poisoning rivers and streams with mercury and other toxic materials. The Hartwells had lost everything to corporate greed that prioritized maximum extraction over environmental protection or community welfare. That loss had shaped her family's understanding of gold's true nature. The metal itself wasn't evil, but the human response to it revealed fundamental moral weaknesses that corrupted individuals and entire societies. The Gold Rush hadn't just extracted precious metal from the earth—it had extracted humanity from the people who participated in it.
Mayor Callahan embodied this corruption in its modern form. His housing policies had systematically displaced low-income families while protecting the interests of wealthy developers. His tax strategies had reduced services for the poor while creating loopholes that benefited the rich. Like the corporate mining interests that had destroyed her family's livelihood, Callahan used his position to concentrate wealth among those who already possessed it while devastating the lives of ordinary people.
The charity auction would provide the perfect setting for hispurification. Surrounded by Gold Rush artifacts that celebrated San Francisco's founding mythology, Callahan would experience firsthand the weight of the greed that had shaped the city's development.
She had spent weeks planning the technical aspects of Callahan's purification. The museum's restoration workshop contained all the equipment she needed for gold preparation, and her curatorial access allowed her to work in the buildingduring hours when security was minimal. When all was quiet and unseen. The mayor's security detail would be focused on external threats, not on museum staff who had been vetted and trusted for years.
The symbolic perfection of the setting couldn't be improved upon. Callahan would be transformed among artifacts that represented the historical forces he claimed to serve. His golden body would become part of the museum's collection, a permanent reminder of gold's power to corrupt and the necessity of resistance to that corruption.
Tonight's work would conclude her mission in San Francisco, but she understood that it was part of something much larger than her individual efforts. The Elementalist had guided her understanding of gold's significance, but the broader mission extended far beyond any single element or location. Other practitioners were conducting similar work across the country, each one addressing the specific forms of corruption that plagued their communities.
The golden path to purification wasn't just about punishing individual criminals—it was about demonstrating the true cost of a society that valued material wealth above human dignity. Each transformed victim served as both punishment for their specific crimes and warning for others who might follow similar paths.
As she prepared to leave her office and begin the day's normal curatorial duties, she reflected on how tonight would mark both an ending and a beginning. Her work in San Francisco would be complete, but the larger mission would continue. The periodic table contained numerous elements, each one offering unique opportunities for purification and revelation.
The golden cycle was nearly finished, but the true work was just beginning.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Miles found Vic in the precinct's break room, hunched over a cup of coffee that had probably been sitting there since morning. She was looking over the details of the DeWalt crime scene for the hundredth time when he entered. She looked up as he approached, her expression weary but alert.
"You look refreshed," she commented, setting down the mug.
“I am. I think I may have figured something out.” Miles pulled out a chair and sat across from her. "I've been thinking about our killer's motivation. The gold isn't just about killing these people—it's symbolic. Gold has this dual nature in human psychology. We revere it, fight wars over it, build our entire economic system around it. But it's also toxic in large quantities."
Vic leaned back in her chair. "So our killer sees these victims as being poisoned by their own greed?"
"Exactly. And there's something else." Miles pulled out his phone and showed her his notes. "San Francisco's entire identity is tied to gold. Somehow, I wasn’t even thinking about that. The Gold Rush built this city. These aren't random targets—they're people who, in the killer's mind, represent the worst of what that gold fever created."
"The corruption of the American dream," Vic said slowly. "Greed over humanity."
"Right. But even ifthisnew theory is right, here's what's been bothering me—where's he getting the gold? The amount needed to coat three bodies isn't something you just pick up at a jewelry store. Probably not even from the same resources Martinez has from his old university contacts. We're talking about serious quantities."
Vic stood up and grabbed her jacket. "So, let’s go have another chat with Martinez. Not as a suspect this time, but as a consultant. If we act quick, we can get to him before he’s officially the property of another department.”
Miles followed Vic out of the break room. They didn’t exactly sprint to the holding area, but they passed through the hallways at a brisk pace. Luck was on their side, as they found Dr. Andrew Martinez still awaiting his next destination. He was sitting behind reinforced glass, looking completely defeated. He looked surprised to see them again, his earlier defensiveness replaced by cautious curiosity and what Miles thought looked like resignation. He’d admitted to his crimes and now he was simply ready to face the consequences.
"Dr. Martinez," Miles began, "we told you we might need to ask you some more questions. It just happens to be a lot sooner than we thought.”
“What is it?” Martinez asked. “What do you need?
“We need your expertise."
Martinez raised an eyebrow. "About what?"
"Gold analysis,” Vic said. “Specifically, whether the geological composition of gold samples can tell us where they originated."
"Of course it can." Martinez leaned forward, his academic interest clearly piqued. "Gold has trace elements that vary by location—silver, copper, platinum group metals. It's like a fingerprint. Each geological formation leaves its signature."
"How long would that kind of analysis take?" Vic asked.
"Depends on the equipment available. With proper spectrographic analysis, maybe a day or two. But you'd need samples from the victims and comparison samples from potential sources."
