“Organized and disorganized?”

“Essentially. But that terminology has fallen out of favor. Roy Hazelwood has modified Douglas’s work somewhat in this regard. He prefers to start by distinguishing between the impulsive offender and the ritualistic offender.”

“I’d say our guy is ritualistic.”

“Definitely. A thinking killer. Someone who has spent an enormous amount of time working out his fantasy and bringing it to life. He’s not taking the easy way, or the approach that would be most likely to avoid detection. He’s planning everything in accordance with some loony scheme.”

“The Poe fetish.”

“So it seems. Bringing those weird stories to life has become an idée fixe for our man. But what does he hope to accomplish?”

“Good question. Wish I had an equally good answer.”

He sat up to let one of the sergeants pass into the bathroom. “Hazelwood has delineated the five components of the ritualistic killer: relational, paraphilic, situational, victim demographics, and selfperceptional.”

“You’re going to have to explain.”

“Relational has to do with the relationship between the victim and the offender-or more accurately, what he fantasizes the relationship to be. Girlfriend? Wife? Slave?”

“And the answer is?”

“We don’t know. We need more information. Your coroner says the victims haven’t been sexually molested, at least not in the sense of penetration. Our man may be a kidnapper, but he’s no lothario.”

“Probably impotent.”

“A distinct possibility, but we both know there are still ways for a crazed man to inflict sexual damage and humiliation on a helpless woman. If we knew more about what he does with them before he kills them, that might yield some answers. Or if we knew how he selects them. How he lures them in.”

“Next component?”

“Paraphilia is the currently vogue term for sexual deviation. Voyeurism, pedophilia, necrophilia, transvestitism-you name it.”

“You think this guy can’t get it off the normal way, so he’s grabbing little girls off the street.”

“I’m not saying that. This could be a twisted form of sexual sadism. A way of asserting his power over them. He renders them powerless with the drug, then subjects them to some Poe-inspired horror. A form of slavery, I suppose.”

“But there’s no indication that he’s trying to break their will. Play with their minds. Turn them into true slaves.”

“Not yet, maybe. But this guy is just getting started.” A grim expression crossed his face. “Let’s hope we catch him before it gets to that.”

“Situational?”

“That’s key to understanding what our boy is up to. What’s the situation he’s trying to create? What setting is he trying to realize?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“For instance, when I’m giving lectures back at Quantico, the setting I’m trying to create is a classroom. The relationship is teacher-student.”

“I got you.”

“Or here, for instance, with us, the setting is master-servant.” His eyes sparkled. “The young protégé learns at the feet of the seasoned master.”

“Is that what this is? I thought it was more like the hopeful acolyte worships at the temple of the earth goddess.” Okay, maybe that was a little obvious, but he’d started it.

He cast his eyes about. “Not much of a temple.”

“I’m a rose-colored-glasses girl.”

He dragged the conversation back on track, darn it. “So I’m thinking the setting this guy wants to create must be a sort of torture chamber.”

“Like Robert Leroy Anderson?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Very good. You are up on the literature.”

“I do my best.”

“So he’s using Poe for inspiration but is basically serving his own sadomasochistic need to inflict pain on helpless victims.”

My face scrunched. “I don’t know.”

“You have a different theory?”

“No. I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. I just sense there’s something more going on here. He’s had so many opportunities for cruelty, but actually there’s been little evidence of it. Kidnapping and murder, yes, but-I don’t know. Sadomasochistic lust just doesn’t explain everything.”

“Which leads us to our fourth component. Victim demographics.”

“Well, they were both young girls. Teens.”

“Both girls look young for their age.”

“That’s true. A baby-doll fetish?” I shrugged. “They came from very different backgrounds. One was solidly lower-middle-class. The other came from a super-wealthy background, daughter of a celebrity. Both appear to have been raised by their mothers.”

“But did the killer know that?”

“Seems unlikely.”

“So he was just going by appearance?”

I have to admit, I hadn’t thought I’d like working with a partner, but I did. Bouncing ideas off someone who had the same grasp of the field was exciting, almost electric. I felt a tingling run through my body that wasn’t all about serial killers, either. Good thing Patrick wasn’t in any position to make advances. I would’ve melted like a custard. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not? It’s the logical conclusion.”

“Despite the age and gender similarity, both girls looked quite different.”

“He can only choose from what’s available.”

“This is Vegas, Patrick. You can find anything you want, and plenty of it. Take a short walk down the Strip and you’ll find a dozen girls who fit any possible physical description. No, he chose these victims because they fit some specific parameter-we just haven’t figured out what it is yet.”

“And as to the killer’s self-perception?”

I pondered a moment. “That’s more difficult.”

“He obviously likes being in control. Exerting power over others.”

“Ye-es…”

“He enjoys inflicting pain on his victims.”

My neck twisted. It would be easier just to agree than to try to explain my reluctance. But as always, I had to go with my feelings. “We don’t know that.”

“Susan, think about what he did to these two girls.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean he enjoyed it.”

“What other possible reason could he have for burying a woman alive? For making someone bleed to death?”

I shrugged. “This may be a rather heterodox theory, but I don’t believe this guy perceives himself as an evildoer. Or even a punisher. He’s communicated with us twice, but there’ve been no jeremiads about whores and harlots. No suggestion of guilt on the part of the victims. I get the sense that he somehow thinks what he’s doing is… honorable. That he’s acting purposefully to accomplish… something.”

“Like what?”

“I can’t imagine. You think our guy has a personality disorder?”

“Duh.”

“Psychopath?”

“Actually, we don’t use that term anymore.”

“Oh, spare me.”

“The currently preferred mental health term is antisocial personality disorder. APD for short.”

“Whatever. You think that’s our guy?”

“Not if you’re right that he thinks he’s doing a good thing. That would be more like… I don’t know. Schizoid personality disorder.”

“Or a narcissist.”

Patrick batted a finger against his lips. “That’s not bad. Delusions of grandeur. Belief that he’s special and his actions can’t be comprehended by ordinary people. Feeling of divine entitlement.”

“If I’m right, what does it tell us?”

“That he needs constant admiration. That he won’t hesitate to take advantage of others in order to achieve his plan, whatever it is. That he will be indifferent to or unaware of the needs or feelings of others. Basically, the world is his stage, and the rest of us are just props at his disposal.”

“How does that help us catch him?”

“Well, he’ll be seeking attention. Praise, even.”

“He’s going to try to contact us, isn’t he?”

“Almost certainly. He already has, with those coded notes that were bound to lead us to the Poe connection. But he’ll do more. He’ll talk to us.”

“Good. That would help me understand him, what he wants. Empathize.”