The 7th Victim - Alan Jacobson [128]
She thanked the woman, whose smile seemed to sport more teeth than a shark, and was heading back to her car when her phone rumbled. These days, the vibration set her heart racing: odds were it meant either important news about Jonathan or the discovery of another Dead Eyes victim.
The text message belonged to Bledsoe. She was to meet him at the task force op center in fifteen minutes to discuss “a major break” in the case. Vail pulled up to the curb one minute sooner than expected, and Bledsoe met her in the street. As Robby arrived behind her, Manette, Sinclair, and Del Monaco walked out of the house and the group convened on the front lawn.
“I guess Dead Eyes is bored with sending emails. Didn’t get enough of a rise out of us,” Bledsoe said. “A letter was received this morning by Richard Ray Singletary at Rockridge Correctional. Ring a bell?”
“Singletary, yeah. Serial killer, North Carolina,” Del Monaco said. “The Mohawk Slasher. Took out seven college freshmen before he was caught. It was one of Thomas Underwood’s first profiling cases. Underwood met with Singletary a number of times. Part of BSU’s program to interview serial offenders to develop an understanding of why they did what they did.”
Vail said, “A lot of the stuff they learned from those interviews formed the basis for our current understanding and approach. The work was so fresh and new—and accurate—that it became legendary. So much so that some people at the BAU are afraid to embrace change and new ideas because Underwood and his colleagues’ research findings are as good as written in stone.”
Del Monaco frowned at her comment, and she stared him down. The others picked up on the silent interplay and kept quiet. Finally, Robby spoke. “They have the letter in custody?”
“They do now. Singletary wouldn’t give it up. Said it was his ticket. His ticket to what, I’m not sure.”
“Bargaining chip,” Manette said. “He don’t have much. Letter’s a way of getting privileges.”
“Privileges for what?” Bledsoe asked. “He’s scheduled to be put down in five days.”
“Put down, like lethal injection?”
“Like, that’s all she wrote. The big sleep. End of the line.”
Del Monaco shrugged. “Then something to add spice to his last few days.”
Robby asked, “So what’s the plan, boss? How do you want to handle it?”
Bledsoe rubbed a thick hand across his chin. “Vail and Del Monaco will go with me to meet the guy. Letter’s en route by courier to the FBI lab right now. As soon as they’d found out what he had, they sealed it in an evidence bag. I don’t know if we’ll get anything useful out of it, because a bunch of people already handled it. But we’ll talk with Singletary, see what he has to say.”
Vail’s eyebrows rose. “One question I have is, why him? Why did Dead Eyes send the letter to Singletary?”
“I know we’re all stretched beyond our limits,” Bledsoe said, “but we need someone to compile a roster of all violent offenders who’ve served with Singletary since his incarceration.”
Manette raised a hand. “I got it.”
“Good. Manny, it’s yours. Get it to me as soon as possible. Okay, then. That’s our plan.”
“Do we have clearance to meet with Singletary?” Sinclair asked.
“Give me a few minutes,” Bledsoe said. “I’ll make some calls.”
THE FLIGHT INTO Henderson-Oxford Airport was bumpy and turned Vail’s stomach. It wasn’t that she disliked the act of flying, it was the concept that bothered her. How a plane the size of a large dinosaur could slice through the air and rise, then descend slowly and land safely, was a wonderment she could never fully understand. She felt more comfortable wading through the minds of deranged killers than with the physics of aerodynamics.
As they entered the lounge area after deplaning, a CNN special report flashed across the television screen. “Convicted murderer Richard Ray Singletary claims he has received