The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [148]
‘You’re kidding?’ Garcia’s eyebrows rose in surprise and then in realization. ‘The explosives?’
‘That’s where she would’ve gained knowledge of them. It’s part of their training, understanding about mines, explosives, detonating mechanisms, velocity and power of explosion . . . things like that. She would’ve had every manual available to her then.’
‘So it would’ve been just a case of knowing where to look, who to talk to and she would’ve easily obtained the raw materials she needed.’
‘Precisely.’
A short silence followed. ‘The sketch she gave us?’ Garcia asked, already guessing the answer.
‘To throw us off course. That night, without realizing, I’d drawn a doodle of the double-crucifix. An unconscious reflex as my mind had been totally absorbed by the case. Isabe . . .’ Hunter paused and thought better of what he was about to say. ‘Brenda,’ he corrected himself, ‘was a very clever woman and with some very quick thinking she saw the perfect opportunity to send us on a wild-goose chase, so she came up with that fictitious story about meeting someone in a bar. Someone with the double-crucifix tattooed on his wrists. She then only needed to give us a bogus description and the investigation would take a wrong turn.’
‘We wasted a couple of weeks running after that bogus description.’
‘And we would’ve wasted more,’ Hunter agreed. ‘We had no reason to doubt her. We assumed we were on to a good thing.’
‘And how did you know she would come after you that night?’
‘Three things. One, there were no more jurors left to take revenge upon.’
‘But she’d only taken nine victims; there are twelve jurors in total.’
‘The other three were already dead from natural causes. She couldn’t hurt them anymore. Scott, my partner, the other arresting detective, was also dead.’ Hunter stopped for a moment remembering what Brenda had told him four days ago. After a deep breath he continued. ‘I was the only one left.’
‘Not a great position to be in,’ Garcia joked.
Hunter agreed. ‘Two, it was John’s birthday. For her, the ultimate revenge day. The ultimate present to her brother and her family.’
A long pause followed.
‘And three? You said there were three things,’ Garcia questioned.
‘Me carrying your cross.’
‘Huh? I don’t follow,’ Garcia said, shifting himself on the bed, trying to get into a better position.
‘The biggest analogy of someone’s last day on earth.’
Garcia thought about it for a few seconds. ‘To carry a cross on your back. Jesus’s last day on earth,’ Garcia said, realizing Hunter’s point.
Hunter nodded again. ‘I knew I only had a few hours to think of something. I knew she’d be coming after me.’
Hunter turned to face the window again and his stare seemed distant and alienated. He gently touched the back of his neck and felt the scar which hadn’t fully healed yet.
‘If you had a strong suspicion it was Isabella, why did you go through all that? Why did you risk your life allowing her to get to you? Why not just arrest her?’ Garcia asked, shifting his body once again.
‘I had no proof, only suspicions. Just a crazy theory about revenge. As you know we had nothing on the killer, no DNA or fingerprints, nothing that could link her to any of the victims or crime scenes. If we took her in, she would’ve walked, and I’m sure we would’ve lost her forever. My only hope was to allow her to come to me.’
‘So you set a trap. A dangerous trap.’
Another nod. ‘I could think of nothing else, I was running out of time.’
‘How could she be capable of all those killings, all that evil?’ Garcia asked.
‘We’ll never be able to say for sure, but when alone with any of the victims, she became a different person. She burned with rage and evil. She was capable of anything. I know it. I saw it in her eyes. I could literally sense the rage that surrounded her.’
Garcia observed his partner for a few silent seconds. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.
‘I’m fine,’ Hunter replied confidently. ‘I’m glad it’s over.’
‘You can say that again,’ Garcia said, lifting both of his bandaged hands.
They both laughed.