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“What is it?” he said, his voice suddenly serious. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I have a question about the case I’m working on.”
“The case? You want my help with a case?”
“Yes,” she said. “It involves dogs.”
“Ah,” he said, “How can I help?”
She described the main points of the case, keeping names out of the conversation and omitting the little waste of time with the coyote but mentioning the leads they’d followed so far and the oddness of a pack of different-sized dogs cooperating on a kill.
“Well, actually, your coroner is wrong about that,” David replied. “Dogs of all sizeswillcooperate to hunt food if needed. It doesn’t happen much in the first world, but places like India and Brazil have large populations of strays that cooperate when they hunt.”
“These aren’t strays,” Faith said. “We found a bootprint.”
“Right,” he said, “and the King Charles Spaniel wasn’t aggressive at all.”
“Not at all,” Faith said. “If anything, he was relieved to see us. he came right up and asked to be held.”
“So what are you asking me?”
“I’m asking if it’s possible to train dogs to be vicious on command but gentle when not.”
“Well, yeah,” he replied. “That’s why the guard dogs at the junkyard calmed down immediately when they heard their owner call you friend. Maybe don’t break into a junkyard with a pack of guard dogs again, by the way. Since we’re talking.”
“Yeah, but this is different. The guard dogs weren’t vicious. They weren’t trying to herd us, they were trying to hold us. Turk even bit one of them, and the dog he bit didn't try to bite him back. They just wanted us in one place until their owner arrived. They could have killed us, but they didn't. These dogs… they didn't just kill the victims, they tore them apart. They mangled them and ate parts of them. It wasn’t like trained guard dogs, it was like a pack of wild dogs going after prey.’
“Hmm,” David said. “Itisunusual for a dog to be both vicious like that and desirous of companionship from strangers. Obviously, vicious dogs exist, but it’s odd that the spaniel could have contributed to killing someone and then asked to be picked up by a complete stranger.”
“So there’s no way this is possible without some sort of human intervention,” Faith reasoned, “but what kind of intervention could prompt this kind of behavior?”
“Well,” David said, “I heard that there was a study done about the efficacy of using pheromones to calm vicious dogs. The idea was that by using pheromones that facilitate cooperation similar to those released by wolves in packs, they could rehabilitate vicious dogs to be docile. I don't think the study went anywhere, but I suppose it's possible that someone could be doing the reverse and releasing pheromones to trigger the dogs' primal hunting or defense instincts. That would be difficult to control, though. The facilitator would have to also release soothing pheromones to calm the dogs, and those pheromones wouldn’t work right away. That might explain why your killer waited in the shadows. Or he could just have done a flawless job training them to view him as the alpha. If they were ingrained to believe he was an absolute authority, then that might be enough to bridge the gap between the effects of the alarm pheromone and the effects of the soothing pheromone.”
Faith felt her excitement grow. “That’s wonderful information, David!” she said. “Do you remember the name of the study?”
“The name? I’m not sure. I know it was published inVets Weeklyabout three or four years ago. I didn't pay much attention to it, to be honest. It seemed kind of out there, if you know what I mean.”
“Well,” Faith replied. “Serial killers do have a reputation for being out there.”
“Good point,” David conceded. “So if I help you solve the case, do I win a medal or something."
“Or something,” she said, grinning. “I think you’ll like it even more than a medal.”
“Wow,” David said, “I should let you turn my life upside down more often. You’re generous when you feel guilty.”
“Don’t push it,” she said, still grinning. “I’ll see you later, baby.”
“See you later.”
She hung up and headed inside. Michael was dressed for bed, but when he saw the look on her face, he said, “I guess I should get dressed again, huh?”
“Not yet,” Faith said. “In fact, you should nap now and get whatever rest you can. I’ll wake you up if I find something.”
Michael shook his head. “I won’t be able to rest now that I know you’re onto something. Spill it.”
Faith shared the details of her conversation with David. When she finished, Michael said, “Wow. What’s with people using chemicals all the time now? What happened to good old-fashioned blunt objects?”
“New generation, new criminals, I guess,” Faith said. “Still not enough to stump us.”
