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Art of Aquarius: Chapter 27- Spooked?

  12 Days Later

  Detective Mackey leans back in his chair and absently nibbles on the eraser of his pencil. The detective's gaze is fixed on the framed 4x6 photograph of Rose Perry situated atop his desk. Across the room, Dave stands at the whiteboard, studying notes he and James have scribbled there over the past several days.

  One column of the whiteboard is for leads which have proven false or fraudulent. A second column is designated for bored grandmothers or housewives seeking any form of attention. The third column is for the names of persons of interest.

  The last column is by far the longest column, spanning almost thirty names. The names in the third column are written much smaller than in the other two columns, allowing for more names to be added as needed. Only thirteen names have been scratched through so far. Today, Detective Mackey and Deputy Newsome hope to work through a few more.

  Mackey stops reclining and glances over at Dave. Dave spies James' movement out of the corner of his vision. He angles his head in order to peer at his unusually quiet cohort. The suspicious deputy's eyes narrow to tiny slits.

  "Did you remember something useful, James? I know that look by now," Dave says.

  "Not so much useful as disturbing," Mackey confesses. "Well, as far as the Aquarius Killer is concerned. There was hardly a break between the first two murders. Bridget and Rose were killed within days of each other. I initially got the impression...It seemed as if the killer couldn't control himself. But since then, not so much as a peep. It's been weeks."

  "Yeah, that is rather disturbing," Dave agrees. "I don't blame the city folk one bit for being up in arms. Too much time passes and people are liable to become complacent. They assume we're complacent. That we're giving up. Nothing could be further from the truth."

  "Exactly," Mackey replies. "I'm worried about what this could mean for our investigation going forward. Witnesses may just stop giving a damn. Our information well could dry up before we get the tip we need. The tip which could help solve this case."

  Dave reclines his head back and stretches. He stares up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. Rotating his shoulders, and his neck, Dave tries to think optimistically. A difficult situation under the circumstances. Detective Mackey drums on the desk with the fingertips of one hand.

  "I also worry that the killer may have moved on," Mackey says. "Or, he's building up to something a lot more unhinged. Most serial killings have a sexual underpinning. Whether it's real or perceived ineptitude, some form of physical deformity inhibiting normal sexual function, or something as simple as basic infertility. Somewhere, this guy got the impression that he doesn't quite meet the necessary requirements for a normal healthy relationship. He's striking out at women he perceives as being above him. Out of his league. Whether that's in the looks department, based on the damage inflicted to the young women's faces. Or, he's lashing out at women he perceives as more socially and sexually appealing. Possibly, because the victims remind him of someone else. At least, that's how most of these serial cases go."

  Mackey leans onto the desk and grips the photograph of Rose Perry in one hand. He stares at her smiling face with a solemn expression. She had indeed been a beautiful woman, full of energy and life. What the Aquarius Killer had done to her body was cruel in the extreme. In life, Rose had been a very self-conscious woman. While possessing a wonderful figure, Rose had doubted anyone who told her so. Often being described by her peers as overdressing for nearly every occasion. In opposition to Rose's wishes, the killer had made sure to display her naked body with overly flagrant disregard. A most evil slight.

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  Very few would have guessed at the inner turmoil beating inside of Rose's forgiving breast. Rose had led a hard life, a life full of physical and emotional abuse. She'd later turned that horrible beginning into a fascinating love of children. Rose's presence is already sorely missed; at the daycare where she worked with disadvantaged youngsters. Her grieving coworkers frequently stop by the police department to offer refreshments or warm meals, and to get updates on the case. Updates, which are slow in coming these days.

  Mackey places Rose's photograph back on the desk. He traces the message underneath the glass with his right index finger. The message originally intended for Deputy Newsome.

  "But the killer doesn't penetrate them," Mackey continues in a deep voice. "Well, not in the traditional sense. Although, you can get the impression he desperately wants to. He has a hangup about penetration. That, I think we can be sure of."

  "I guess you can scrub me from your mental list of suspects, Detective Mackey. I have no such hangups," Dave says with a sly grin.

  Dave's tiny attempt at humor achieves its desired effect. Detective Mackey comes out of his deeply brooding mood. The detective blinks rapidly and turns his chair to face Deputy Newsome.

  "You're right, Dave. I will have to cross you off of my list."

  Dave's eyes widen and his mouth gapes. He places a hand on his wide hip and glowers at James.

  "Now wait just a damn minute! You mean...You actually considered me a suspect?" Dave hisses.

  "Calm down, Dave! Until we catch this bastard everyone is a suspect. Even me. It's nothing personal," James says.

  "Wait, so you consider yourself a suspect?" Dave says incredulously.

  "Ever heard the saying...Crazy people don't realize their crazy? Don't tell me you don't think I'm a bit unhinged too, Dave? You've said as much before."

  "That wasn't a real assessment. I was...I was angry. I say a lot of things when I'm angry."

  "Well, imagine I am truly insane. Would I remember the things I've done? In some cases, the murderers disassociate from their crimes. Other murderers rationalize them away. They honestly don't believe they've done anything wrong. That's why even some of the most ruthless killers are able to pass a polygraph test. They aren't lying. They believe what they believe. It becomes their own shaded version of the truth. That's a major reason why those tests are inadmissible in court. Coach a guy enough...He'll pass it. Believe in what you're saying with all of your heart...You'll pass it. A slimeball like the Aquarius Killer would slip through our hands if all we had to go on was a polygraph. Yes, Dave. Everyone is a suspect until the killer is safely behind bars. Everyone. Even me."

  "That's just disturbing, James. I mean...Damn. Even yourself? Jeez. I can't fault you for being thorough, though."

  Mackey issues a short laugh and goes back to staring at Rose's photo. His brow creases and he tilts his head to one side, scrutinizing the picture more carefully.

  Dave's department issued cellphone rings on his hip. He removes it from the bulky phone case and hurriedly checks the display. A second later, he presses SEND.

  "Yeah, Chastain. What's going on?"

  Dave's mustache droops as he digests the words Deputy Chastain word vomits into his ear. The younger deputy is speaking so quickly that Dave is only able to glean surface details from the conversation. Time, location, and another body.

  Ending the call, Dave sighs and squeezes both eyes shut. He reclines his head so that it looks as if he is staring up at the ceiling, a scream building up in his broad chest. At his desk, Mackey climbs to his feet.

  "Dave, what was that call?"

  When Dave opens his eyes they are filled with tears. He lowers his head and meets Detective Mackey's gaze.

  "We spoke too soon. There's been another murder. Some kids discovered another body!"

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