18 Running Against Time (2/2)

He knelt down and removed the crime scene slippers… the ones that looked like those surgeons wear, and then removed the gloves. He disposed of them in a bin that had been conveniently placed nearby. He exchanged a few words with the man in charge and then walked over to the car.

”Any developments?” I asked. His expression was neutral, but there had to be something new to report.

”We found the first victim,” he replied nonchalantly.

”The single mother?” He shook his head. I imagine my eyes widened in shock.

”This boy was killed at least six months before the other victim, judging from the degree of decomposition. We'll have to wait until the body is removed and put together at the medical examiners'.”

'Put together.'

”Judging by your expression, this is a game changer. Why? Was the style of killing different?” I turned towards him fully, leaning forward to listen properly.

He placed his hand on the steering wheel. He tapped it a couple of times, staring out the windshield before beginning to explain.

”We believe that killers are cold-blooded and bold in committing the crime, and that assumption is not always wrong, but in reality because of the social contract… the restrictions and morals that we have been indoctrinated with, even killers are not confident in committing the crime. They also fear getting caught but can't stop their urge. Killers like this one start with killing people they know… people who they are closely related to… family members, relatives, colleagues, neighbors. It becomes easy for us to locate the killer once the first victim is identified.”

He looked unappeased by the find.

”Is there a problem with the body?” I asked apprehensively.

”The most recent kill was about 2 weeks ago.” I scraped my brain for why that would be a case altering factor.

The dates of abduction came to mind.

I calculated the difference in times.

The killer commits murder about once in three to four weeks. He lives in a rented place and doesn't earn much… he can only accommodate one captive at a time…

”He's alive.” I gasped as the realization came. ”We're running against time, now,” I whispered to myself. I heard him hum in agreement. The car started then. His voice was calm as he said the next words.

”We're not tracking a killer now, we're rescuing a victim.” Something in me snapped. It was a feeling of helplessness, desperation to do something. But I was incapable of such a task. ”Let's just hope they find the boy intact. I don't need another perfectly chopped corpse on my hands.” He sighed.

The drive was silent. I stared out of the window and wondered if there was a chance for the boy to see another sunrise. I wondered if Sebastian Butler would be able to save his life. I looked at the man in question. I gulped as I felt my heart sink.

I wanted to trust him, but it seemed pointless to trust someone who thought they understood the mind of a killer.