Allex shoved the rest of the sandwich into his mouth, crumpling the paper with deliberate noise.
“I can at least give you a sample for analysis right now,” he mumbled with his mouth full.
“No, thank you, I have a lot of work to do, without your feces.”
Will was silent, not even noticing their mutual jibes, he was immersed in his thoughts, in the picture of the crime; in the first person he saw the mangled female corpses on the dining tables, he stood over them, resting his knees on either side of the hips of the dead bodies, with his hands stained up to the elbows in blood, his mouth full of slimy flesh, still warm and sweet.
If there was something in his stomach, it would want to come out. How could Serret impassively eat his lunch when he had those disgusting pictures in front of him? Will couldn’t eat at work, even when he was outside the lab or office, he couldn’t get a bite down.
He literally felt the slippery, elastic heart muscle sliding down the esophagus, not completely chewed, in a hurry, in greedy ecstasy, in affect.
“He swallows without chewing,” Will muttered, as if under his breath.
“He probably has problems with his stool. Like Serret,” Cruz agreed.
“My stool is fine,” Allex grimaced. “Even if I eat nails …”
“He has an oral fixation. He doesn’t eat to eat, he eats to swallow,” Special Agent Gatti said, ignoring them. “He’s thrilled by the sensation in his mouth.”
“How lovely.”
“He might have an eating disorder,” Allex suggested, throwing a sandwich wrapper into the basket. “Bulimia, compulsive overeating … In advanced stages, it’s easy to spot by appearance.”
“I’ll check with Dr. Gasztold,” Will nodded. “Whoever got into his office could have been his patient, an acquaintance …”
All four of the Heartthrob’s victims were clients or family members of clients of Lukas Gasztold, a psychiatrist who had assisted the FBI in several other cases. This fact only came to light when Gasztold told Will about the theft of the casebooks, two days after the last body was found. They all lived in the same area of Baltimore, an upper-class neighborhood, and were all young, attractive women with husbands and children.
All of them, first being strangled, had their chests brutally cut open, their hearts torn out, and their lifeless bodies laid on a table in the dining room. The killer did not rape them or perform any sexual acts on the bodies before or after death – at least no traces of semen or other evidence of manipulation were found.
The Heartthrob left no evidence. He would catch up with women at home when they returned alone, play with them a little, letting them break free and run around the apartment in panic, knocking over antique furniture, breaking vases and other curious decorative items. He was physically strong, bigger than them, he knew his superiority and advantage.
He tinkered in the bodies with his bare hands, but killed with gloves. He didn’t want to touch them while they were alive …
Allex stayed in the lab for a long time, sitting on a chair, staring off into space with an unseeing gaze. Just recently, the young man imagined that, having returned to the criminal-investigative group under the leadership of the head of the Behavioral Science Unit, Jack Howard, he would pursue the case of the Maryland Ripper, an elusive serial killer, who, according to the FBI, extracted organs from his victims for cooking … The new butcher was no better, but, fortunately for the investigators, an amateur – the Heartthrob was still learning, he was gradually gaining strength. They would have a chance to catch him – the main thing was to pay attention to detail.
Agent Serret graduated from the FBI Academy in Quantico a year and a half ago, but distinguished himself not by his high score, but by his unique ability to stick his nose into things that weren’t his business, get into trouble, and contradict his teachers. Even during his internship, he managed to stir up an anthill, raise a long-closed case from the archives, prove inconsistencies in the investigation results, and force Howard, who was responsible for this, to take action.
At first, Howard couldn’t believe how an intern, a short guy with a permanently shaggy head, freckles on his pointed nose, actively gesticulating, a real pain in the ass, dared to dispute the expertise of professionals … But he soon became convinced: Serret was right.
He was not publicly thanked or praised, but simply told that his information had been noted and confirmed.
When Allex received his badge and FBI credentials, Howard called him to join the Criminal Investigative Division. Serret was a good profiler, he used his boundless energy for good, he was ready to work without rest, enthusiastically and passionately. He was attentive, as attentive as someone who processes information at the speed of light can be, but at the same time he risks losing the context. Serret was stubborn as a mule, sometimes naive as a child, he could not be intimidated by punishment or words … He was like a tank, he did not know what diplomacy was, but his toothy smile and natural charm gave him a privilege, he could please anyone if he wanted, even with his stupid jokes and pantomimes.
After yet another conflict in a couple of months, Agent Allex Serret was transferred to the Critical Incident Response Group, where his hyperactivity and bullheadedness have found application. He went on raids and detentions, helped negotiate with criminals, got into the thick of things – conflicts and adrenaline were his comfortable environment.
After recent events, Howard reconsidered his attitude towards Serret – he needed a fresh look and help, he didn’t mind Allex being dubbed the FBI clown, the Clown Knight … The head of the Behavioral Science Unit did not miscalculate – with the appearance of Serret, William Gatti found a fellow traveler.
The sullen autistic Gatti, formerly a teacher at the FBI Academy, currently holding the position of a special agent, not going for social interaction, but giving stunning results of profiling, amazingly formed a tandem with the young, noisy and constantly grimacing Serret … They were so different that they complemented each other. They thought differently – and in different ways simultaneously came to the same conclusion.
They were both stubborn and unyielding, they dug their teeth into the work that Jack Howard assigned them. They were both initially met with hostility by the team …
A week ago, when the entire team, including the chief, three forensic experts and Gatti, quickly left for the crime scene, Howard took Serret with him. He expected his men to be confused, but not so much …
“Jack!” Cruz called out, raising her head from the table with the bloody mess spread out on it. “What are the red-haired clowns doing here? We have enough of our own.”
Standing a little way off, holding a pair of deer antlers on a holder to the top of his head, was Serret, engrossed in his examination of something on a high shelf. Jimmy Ross and Brian Bailey, who were carefully studying the floor and the surrounding area, stared at the young man in bewilderment. Will Gatti was oblivious to his surroundings, not even turning in the direction Beverly Cruz was pointing.
The woman held her gloved hand outstretched until Howard reacted. He forgot about the newbie …
“Serret!” he barked. “Put it back!”
Serret shuddered, his young face mugged, his dark eyes flashed. He reluctantly put the antlers on the rack, walked around the obstacle, openly meeting the dissatisfied faces of his colleagues.
“From today on, Agent Allex Serret is a member of our team, no objections will be accepted, you should leave your reservations once and for all, we are working for the common good. Is that clear to everyone?”
Cruz pursed her lips but gave a short, reserved nod, and Bailey and Ross followed suit.
“You know Cruz, Ross, and Bailey, I won’t introduce them. Special Agent