As it wasn’t yet nine am, Ella devised a plan. She got back in the car and told Byford to wait with her. Approaching suspects in a public area made them less likely to turn hostile. It was one of Mia’s techniques. In their own homes, suspects maintained an air of supremacy. On neutral ground, it was a different story.
They watched the pedestrian traffic up and down the road. After ten minutes or so, Ella got restless. She got out of the car, crossed the street, leaned against a telephone pole took out her phone. She pretended to have a conversation. Cell phones were, hands down, the best surveillance prop ever invented, she thought.
Finally, the door to the apartment complex opened. The first person to walk out of the building was an older woman, well-dressed and accessorized to the nines. When she reached the sidewalk she stopped, rummaged through her purse then stormed back inside the building. She’d obviously forgotten something. A minute later, a second resident emerged. A much different picture this time.
He was dressed in a black overcoat, tight jeans, and heavy black boots. His dark hair had been tied back, exposing the swirly tribal tattoos on the side of his head. From what Ella could tell, one of them was in the shape of a dragon. His skin was alarmingly pale, like he hadn’t seen the sun in decades.
The man moved across the street, keeping his gaze to the ground. When he reached the car, Ella called out to him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Black?”
Aleister looked up from the ground and locked eyes with his caller. They darted around, finally landing on Ella’s knees. Ella recognized it as a sign of timidity or more severe mental health issues.
“Do I know you?” he asked. His posture betrayed neither aggression nor escape. Instead, he looked pleasantly curious, if a little afraid.
Within a few seconds of their meeting, she saw the symptoms Ace mentioned. Aleister seemed unsteady on his feet, his limbs twitching in no particular pattern.
“You don’t. My name’s Agent Dark and I’m with the FBI. Could we talk for a moment?”
Aleister looked at her badge, then back down to Ella’s lower half. In the spring morning light, his eyes were a pale blue, almost colorless. A harsh contrast to his entirely black profile.
“FBI? Okay, but I can’t imagine what I could tell you. Or your partner over there.”
Ella laughed. She hadn’t expected this man to be so observant. Or maybe she and Byford had just been careless. “Well spotted. Do you know why we’re here?”
Aleister folded his arms and shifted his weight onto one leg. Ella didn’t quite know what to make of this man. Violent offender? Troubled autist? Something else?
“Yes. It’s because of the killings, isn’t it?”
Another unexpected comment, but not a desired one. “It is. You know about them?”
“Yeah. I know all about them. I read the news. A lot.” Aleister began to shift his weight across his body and back again, like he was dancing to some invisible beat. Ella was struggling to get a feel of this man’s personality, but his criminal history spoke for itself. He’d attacked a man, vandalized buildings, and engaged in disorderly conduct. Even if he was struggling mentally, they couldn’t be overlooked.
“Were you familiar with the victims?” Ella asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to gauge his honesty levels.
“I knew Jimmy, but everyone knew Jimmy. That’s all.”
Ella picked up on his language. Referring to a recently deceased victim in the past tense, especially when it was someone you had a connection with, was considered a red flag. Not definitive proof by any means, but worth taking into consideration. Ella saw Byford had exited the car and was standing beside it now.
“You had a run-in with him, correct?”
Aleister dug his hands into his coat pockets and began to sway. His shoulders twitched as he spoke.
“Once. But I went back and said sorry. I made a mistake.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” Ella asked. She double-checked her pistol and handcuffs were within grabbing distance. Something told her that this man had an aggressive side to him, and it was only a matter of time before it rose to the surface.
“I asked Jimmy to keep an item for me. He said he would, but when I went to buy it, he’d sold it to someone else. The other buyer offered him more money. It broke my heart. I really wanted the item.”
Aleister’s language appeared very clinical, almost rehearsed. Ella wasn’t sure if this was how he always behaved or whether it was an act. The psychopath’s mask only slipped when they were backed into a corner.
“What was it, this item?” she asked.
“A coin. A really great one. I collect them. This one would have completed my 1942 Soviet collection.”
“Mr. Black, are you aware that rare coins were discovered at each crime scene? Given your previous encounter with Jimmy Loveridge, you can see why we have a need to question you,” Ella said.
Byford slowly walked over to the scene and stood behind the suspect. Aleister sensed him, turned around, then began retreating back towards the apartment building.
“Don’t go anywhere,” Byford said. “Stay right there.”
Aleister froze in place then held up his palms to the agents. “Please, I don’t like being surrounded. Can you back away a few steps please?”
“I’m sorry, sir, but you’re wanted in regard to a murder investigation. We can’t take this lightly. Please can you come with us?”
Dammit, Byford, Ella thought. I had this under control. She wished he’d read the room a little bit before jumping right in with protocol. Sometimes, protocol wasn’t all it was cracked up to be
“No,” Aleister said as he backtracked further. “I’m not going with you. You can’t make me.”
“Please, Aleister, let’s relax a little here. We’re not…”
“Get away from me, both of you.” His twitches became more intense, losing balance as he tried to out-maneuver the agents. Suddenly, Aleister tripped and stumbled into Ella. She grabbed him to hold him upright, but Aleister pushed her hard against the streetlamp. Her spine cracked against it, taking the wind out of her, and seeing what he’d done, the suspect took flight.
His intended direction was across the road, but Byford was immediately on the man. He shoulder-tackled Aleister to the ground with a sickening crack, all while Aleister desperately clawed at his attacker. Ella worked through the pain, running over to the theater of conflict to help her partner. Aleister wormed his way out of Byford’s grip, but Ella was waiting for him. She took him by the wrist, twisted it behind his back and extended the shoulder to the point of discomfort. For some reason, maybe a deep-rooted sympathy, she didn’t want to hurt this man.
“Aleister, we need to take you into custody, okay?”
“No. Please don’t. I haven’t done anything wrong,” he cried. “Please don’t handcuff me. I don’t like being restrained.”
“I won’t, if you promise to come with us, okay?” She relieved the pressure, keeping him pressed against the floor with her knee. “We’re not arresting you. We just need to talk.”
Aleister pushed his forehead against the cold ground. “Okay. I will.”
But as Ella took a step back, Byford jumped in place. Before she could protest, he’d locked handcuffs on the suspect’s wrists. Aleister’s response was a full-blown breakdown, lashing his feet out and screaming deafening cries.