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But it wasn’t just that. It was Dreyfus’ odd, seemingly random questions, her strong feelings about magic and magicians, the odd coincidence of her talking about The Fool card before The Fool had shown up at a crime scene, and then finally calling in sick the very day Boz’s body turned up. Okay, yes, granted, not circumstantial so much as coincidental. A string of peculiar coincidences which, when added up, seemed to mean…something.
Why the hell hadn’t he done the intel on Andy Alexander before voicing his suspicions about Dreyfus?
Because he’d been so staggered by the discovery of Boz’s body with that particular card, he’d blurted all his apprehensions out to Sam.
Talk about The Fool.
Not that he blamed Sam for sharing those concerns with SAC Reynolds. Jason didn’t even really blame Reynolds, who’d nearly fallen out of his big leather executive chair, because now that Jason had the full story on Agent Dreyfus, his suspicions were ridiculous.
Clearly the situation with Kyser—or whoever his stalker was—had made him paranoid.
Sam’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Putting Special Agent Dreyfus aside for the moment, West was right about the first two killings being linked together. I think we can safely add Ian Boz to the list of our unsub’s victims.”
Reynolds stopped chortling. “Unsub be damned. I thin
k we know who our budding serial killer is. This crack-brained Van der Beck kid. According to his file, he’s got a long history of mental illness and violence.” He glanced at the file in front of him. “Highlights include trying to burn his parents’ house down when he was eleven and trying to burn his school down when he was thirteen.”
Serial killers and fire. He remembered talking to Dreyfus about the symbolism of fire in magic. That was one he could have added to the list. One of the typical warning signs potential serial killers displayed was a love of setting fires.
Reynolds was still reading over the file. “When he was sixteen, he tried to strangle a classmate.” He shook his head. “They should have thrown the key away on him a long time ago; unfortunately, it’s very difficult to permanently lock anyone in the loony bin these days.”
I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. Although Kansas was probably worse. Not that Jason had any sympathy for psychopaths. They could throw the key away on the Martin Pinks and Jeremy Kysers and Terry Van der Becks for all he cared.
Reynolds added, “Seeing that he’s not the brother of this Andy Alexander, why is he suddenly so focused on magicians?” He looked at Sam.
Sam said, “I don’t know about magic as a performance art, but the occult does attract certain aberrant personality types.” He added, “Of course, so does religion.”
Jason said, “Magic is an aesthetic exploration of mystery and possibility.”
“Is that so? I know it attracts oddballs and misfits,” Reynolds said.
Sam said, “You’ll make yourself crazy trying to understand why serial killers do what they do.”
“Since you’re the guy who wrote the book on catching them, I’ll have to take your word,” Reynolds said. “I have to ask. How many tarot cards are there?”
“He’s using the Rider-Waite tarot deck,” Jason said. “That’s seventy-eight cards altogether, though so far he’s sticking to the twenty-two trump cards of the Major Arcana. He seems to be deliberately matching particular cards to his victims. Santos was The Magician, Khan The Hanged Man, and Boz The Fool. It would be hard to predict potential victims based on how a disturbed mind might interpret the cards. But I’m anxious about Elle Diamond. I think she’s a good match for The High Priestess.”
“Ward’s already spoken to Diamond,” Sam reassured him.
“Seventy-eight potential victims?” Reynolds stared at Sam.
Sam said briskly, “Not going to happen. He’s already devolving. You just have to set the trap and usher him in.”
“And how do we do that? You know, this is business as usual for you, but for us—”
“You stick to the plan, Chuck. You join Cheyenne PD and Routt Sheriff’s Office for the joint press conference this afternoon in a show of force. Tonight, Van der Beck’s photograph will go out over the airwaves on your local TV stations. In both the press conference and the news reports, Van der Beck will hear that law enforcement has taken every precaution to make sure the convention attendees are protected and that the event can proceed as planned.”
“And you really think that’s going to lure him in?”
“Guaranteed.”
Reynolds rubbed his jaw doubtfully. “He’d not only have to be crazy, he’d have to be pretty damned dumb. You really think he’s that dumb?”
“He’s not dumb. He’s megalomaniac. He thinks he’s gotten away with murder three times. He’s beginning to believe he’s invincible. He’ll view the press conference and news reports as direct challenges.” Sam glanced at Jason. “Look what happened when he imagined West had him in his sights. Instead of fleeing, he went after him. And when he failed to kill West, he immediately compensated for that failure by killing Ian Boz—despite knowing he would inevitably be the primary, if not sole, suspect.”
Reynolds nodded, sighed. “Okay. Makes sense. I guess. You wouldn’t want to join us for Friday’s festivities, by any chance?”
Sam hesitated, meeting Jason’s gaze once more. Jason knew what he was thinking. If Sam Kennedy happened to turn up on the national nightly news, it was liable to alert someone paying close attention to the possible location of MIA Special Agent Jason West.
