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"Oh, no," she murmured to herself, causing Lucien to stare at her in surprise. "That's the central point. The hub he was using. And here, it’s the tower. That’s why the kills are certain distances apart. Now I see."
A cold wash of goose bumps prickled her spine, as intense as a shower of ice, as she remembered those kills, and their placement.
Finally, she realized what the killer was doing and why.
"Wait!" she told Lucien. "I need to step outside. Urgently."
The strands were coming together in her mind. For the very first time, she knew she'd truly gotten inside this killer’s mind.
And the problem was it might already be too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Juliette rushed out of the interview room, and as she slammed the door, she saw Wyatt rounding the corner at a run.
"What is it?" he asked, sounding alarmed. "You okay? What's the issue in there? Did something happen I didn’t pick up on?"
Already, Juliette was scrolling through her phone to find Sierra's number. This was going to be so close, so close - if they even still had time at all.
"I'm fine. But we've missed something."
"What?"
"The killer. That’s what we’ve missed."
Wyatt's eyes widened. "What? But I thought we were sure that was him. In that room. I mean, he was painted up with stage paint and everything. You don't think it's him now?"
"I'm not sure anymore."
"Why's that?"
"It was partly the make-up that started making me question it," she explained. "He paints his victims so perfectly. This paint job, on himself, it was patchy. Careless."
Wyatt nodded. "That's not like Goldenface."
"I was also wondering if the paint is a different brand, a lower quality one. The gold color is different and it seems to be smudging more." She drew a deep breath. "Over and above those details, I've been looking at his personality. His response to the questions."
Wyatt stared grimly at her. "Look, it's early, but his answers have been surprising me, I must say."
"Exactly. They're not what I expected. I don't think this man is fully mentally capable, I think he's delusional and lives in his own world, but the problem is that I've finally seen the pattern. I think I understand how Goldenface is killing and why. That’s why I’m calling Sierra." She dialed her number, feeling stressed.
Her instinct had been right. Now, too late, she knew why she'd asked Sierra to map out those points. Her subconscious had been a step ahead.
"Sierra?" she asked, as the young tech answered.
"Juliette. Is this about those coordinates for all the murder cases?”
“Yes, it is. Have you had time to plot them?”
“I have. I’ve done them in two batches. The Paris murders all on one map, and the New York and New Jersey murders on another. You want the maps?"
"Yes, please."
"Sending through now."
Juliette stared impatiently at her phone, and a moment later, the image she'd been waiting for pinged through.
She grabbed it, enlarged it, and took a look.
