“So, why’s this guy doing it?”
Ella got frustrated again. “I don’t know, but it’s too much of a coincidence to ignore. There’s also a load of occult religions that do similar things. A church called The Final Judgment mummified their dead with coins in their hands so they could pay something called the boatman’s toll in the afterlife.”
“Ella, I don’t know. It sounds very farfetched. Could it not just be that this unsub is a psychopath with a twisted world view? Or perhaps he’s just insane? This all sounds very specific.”
Ella dropped down in her seat, the theories burning her brain. There were too many to just focus on one and that was the problem. She didn’t know where to begin, and she couldn’t consume everything she needed to know about these bizarre practices on her own. Even worse, Byford didn’t seem like he wanted to entertain this idea at all.
Mia would have.
“So, what do you suggest we do? Because I’m not seeing many leads here.”
“Neither am I,” Byford said, “and your outlandish claims aren’t producing any leads either. This is all just conjecture. Even if he is doing something along these lines, how does it help us find him?”
Ella couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “How does it help us find him? There are a hundred ways this could help us find him. We could search for other practitioners of these religions in the area. We could try and find an online presence of his on a community forum. We could track down more potential victims.”
Byford stood up with enough force to push his chair back. “You do that then, but I think it’s a waste of time.”
“A waste of time?” Ella said. “To help save lives?”
“I’m all for saving lives, but I’m not one for speculation. We have to go off the evidence.”
“And what evidence do we have? Both victims had a tenuous connection to coins. Antiques and money. That’s it. Pretty much anyone who works in these fields could be a potential target. That’s too many people. We need to narrow it down.”
Ella didn’t like this. It felt like they were at two opposing ends of the track. When she argued with Mia, it was always for the good of the case. Byford seemed to have a reluctance to dig any further than the surface.
“You could always suggest something,” Ella said, her voice a little rougher than she anticipated.
“I am,” Byford said as he moved towards the door. “I’m going to get a drink and clear my head because you’ve filled it with nonsense. Then I’m going to come back and do actual detective work rather than making outrageous guesses.”
He left the room, slamming the door in the process.
Ella stared at the gray door, dumbstruck. Had her partner really just walked out on her? All because she was trying to make headway in a murder investigation?
She pushed back her hair and then rubbed the disbelief from her face. The last thing she needed right now was more conflict. She buried her head in her notes again, but the words on the page just skated past her pupils, not going beyond the eyes to the brain. She couldn’t focus. Her palms began to sweat, and she suddenly craved another soul to confide in, even if it was just to talk about something mundane. Anything. She just wanted to know someone out there was on her side.
Mark was the first name that jumped into her head, but she didn’t want to deal with his paranoia right now.
Was there anyone else?
One person, she thought. One person who could help her. The only partner who always knew exactly what to say to make things right.
Ella pulled out her phone and found her recent call lists. The phone would probably ring out again, but she had to try. She dialed Mia’s mobile again.
Please answer, she thought. For God’s sake, I need you.
***
Mia Ripley sat alone in a Manhattan bar after leaving Melissa back at the local precinct. She needed to get away from her and clear her head. She’d been off the booze for three weeks now so she drank what she referred to as a virgin whiskey and coke. It wasn’t quite the good stuff but it was better than nothing.
Her phone chimed on the table in front of her, and for what seemed like the millionth time this week, Ella’s name flashed up on the screen.
“Rookie, you gotta leave me alone,” she said aloud. “We’re done.”
But what would happen if she answered? Would Ella apologize her heart out like she usually did? Would she try and justify what she did? Or was she looking for something else?
Mia couldn’t deny the rookie’s capabilities. She made a fantastic partner, even if she was a little reckless. But all of her partners had their flaws. Hadn’t her first one been high off his rocker every time they were together? Hadn’t that weird woman she was partnered with in ‘06 tried to sleep with her son? Yes, they were all imperfect, but none of them kept real secrets from her. None of them conversed with the man who triggered nightmares and crippling self-doubt. The man who took everything from her and made her question her own abilities.
It was an unforgivable act. There was no going back from here.
Mia had already heard about the serial case down in Delaware, and she knew Ella had been assigned to it with her new guy. An odd duo, she thought, and no doubt Byford would be getting on her nerves by now. Mia had her own thoughts about the case, although they were admittedly based on the bare facts and nothing more. The coins were a crucial part of the killer’s identity and the men were surrogates for something much bigger. By now, the rookie should have figured that out.
Or had she? Had Mia’s teachings left their mark or was the rookie clueless without her by her side? When they first got together, Ella wasn’t very skilled at getting inside these killers’ heads, but on the last case she was analyzing them like a veteran profiler.
No, the rookie would be fine. She had to be. Mia was never going to be by her side forever, so it was time she learned to handle these things on her own.
Her name flashed up again. It would be twelve long seconds before it stopped. Mia hovered her index finger over the green ANSWER button and toyed with the idea of talking to her one more time, maybe just to swap ideas on her case. Hell, maybe the rookie would have some insights to share on her Manhattan case too.
But then she remembered the letter from Tobias, the tidal wave of spilled secrets drowning her out. Mia would never forget that feeling. It was like reliving the past all over again, that night when Tobias made her burn all of the evidence she’d found. She’d faced countless criminals since then, been at their mercy more times than she could count, but that night with Tobias Campbell was the only time she felt true despair.
She might be a product of the past, but she wasn’t going to be a prisoner of it. It was time to move on. Her short stint with Ella had been a memorable one for a host of reasons, but she was more than willing to let sleeping dogs lie. Time to move on. New partners, new adventures.
But she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t miss the rookie’s occasional wild theories.
CHAPTER EIGHT
He unlocked the door to the forgotten room in his house and was suddenly reminded of an old story. On his deathbed, Johann Sebastian Bach asked an organist to play one of his symphonies. The organist stopped before he finished the piece, so Bach leaped from his bed, rushed to his piano and finished it. Bach couldn’t live with an unfinished melody, and neither could he. That’s why he had to do what he was doing.