He repeated his eye movement, this time with so much control it was almost frightening.

‘You told me about it in college once, Robert, after a party, remember? We were both a little drunk and you thought I’d taken no notice of it, didn’t you?’

Hunter cast his mind back, and a hazy memory surfaced.

‘But it stayed with me,’ Lucien continued. ‘You said that it was something very subtle, not everyone would notice, but I know that you could always pick it up. You always had a great eye for that kind of stuff, Robert. I know I didn’t do it often. At least not if I was telling just a simple white lie, but if it were anything more serious . . . BANG, my eye movement always gave me away.’ Lucien used his thumb and forefinger to rub his eyes a couple of times. ‘So I practiced, and practiced, and practiced in front of a mirror until it was all gone. No more telltale signs. No more being betrayed by psychological motor reactions. It took me a while, a long while actually, but I learned to control them. In fact, I got so good at it that I can flash-create new ones any time I like, just to throw people off course. That is a terrifying thought, isn’t it?’

Hunter and Taylor stayed quiet.

‘I knew that you’d be looking for the eye movement giveaway, Robert. I could sense your concentration in order to read me.’ A new smile. ‘I was fucking great, wasn’t I? A performance worthy of an Oscar.’ Without losing a beat, Lucien changed the subject and moved on. ‘I’d offer you a drink,’ he said. ‘But all I’ve got is tap water, and I only have one cup.’ Again, he studied his two interviewers for an awkward moment. ‘Coffee would be nice, but I don’t have any.’ His stare lingered on Taylor.

She got the hint, looked up at the CCTV camera on the ceiling high above the cell, and gave it a single nod.

‘Black with two sugars, if you please,’ Lucien said, looking up at the same camera before addressing Hunter and Taylor again. ‘OK, let me tell you how this is going to work. I’ll allow you to ask me a few questions. I’ll answer them truthfully, and I mean that. I won’t lie. Then it’s my turn to ask you a question. If I sense that you haven’t answered me honestly, the interview is over for twenty-four hours, and we can start again the next day. I tell you the truth, you tell me the truth. Does that sound fair to you?’

Taylor frowned. ‘You want to ask us questions? About what?’

Her reaction amused Lucien.

‘Information is power, Agent Taylor. I like feeling powerful, don’t you?’

They all heard the door at the end of the corridor buzz open again. A Marine carrying a steaming cup of coffee made his way toward them. Taylor took the cup, placed it in the Plexiglas slide tray, and slid it into the cell toward Lucien.

‘Thank you, Agent Taylor,’ he said, retrieving the cup. He brought it to his nose and drew in a deep breath before sipping it. If the coffee was too hot, he showed no reaction. ‘Very nice.’ He nodded his approval. ‘OK,’ he said, sitting back down, ‘let’s start the great reveal. What’s your first question?’

Thirty-Four

Hunter had been silently studying his old friend since he and Taylor got to his cell. Lucien had an even more victorious, self-glorifying air about him that morning than he had the day before, but that wasn’t all that surprising. Lucien knew he was holding the upper hand. He knew that, at least for now, they all had to dance to his tune, and that seemed to please him immensely. But there was something else. Something new about Lucien’s persona – conviction, confidence, deep pride even, as if he really wanted everyone to know the truth about what he’d done.

Taylor glanced at Hunter, who made no move to ask the first question.

‘So far we’ve found indications that you might’ve committed thirty-three murders,’ she began, her voice flat, calm, calculated, her eyes not shying away from Lucien’s. ‘Is that correct, or have there been any more victims we don’t yet know about?’

Lucien sipped his coffee again before shrugging matter-of-factly.

‘That’s a good first question, Agent Taylor, straight away trying to figure out just how big a monster I am.’ He tilted his head back ever so slightly and started running his index finger from his Adam’s apple to the tip of his chin, in a shaving motion. ‘But tell me this, if I’d murdered only one person, savagely or not, would that make me less of a monster than if I’d murdered thirty-three, or fifty-three, or one hundred and three?’

Taylor kept her cool. ‘Is that one of your questions for us?’

Lucien smiled, unconcerned. ‘No, it isn’t. I was just curious, but never mind, ’cos like I said, Agent Taylor, it was a good first question. It just wasn’t the right one. And that’s very disappointing coming from a senior FBI agent like yourself. I was really expecting more from you.’ He looked at her in a derogatory way. ‘But I don’t mind schooling you this once. After all, life is nothing but a big learning experience, isn’t that right, Agent Taylor?’

Taylor said nothing, but a tiny hint of anger trickled into her eyes.

‘Your first question should’ve had more purpose. It should’ve addressed the main topic of why you’re here. The question should’ve prompted an answer that would’ve indicated if you’re wasting time or not.’ Lucien sipped his coffee again before addressing Hunter. ‘But let’s see if we can fix that for her, shall we? I still remember how good you used to be in college, Robert, always a step ahead of everyone, including all the professors. Now, with so many years of experience as an LAPD detective, I’m guessing you’ve got better, sharper, wittier even. So, for the grand prize, let’s hear it, Robert. In this situation, what would your first question have been? And please don’t disappoint Agent Taylor here. She wants to learn.’

Hunter didn’t have to look. He could feel Taylor’s eyes on him.

Hunter was sitting back against the chair’s backrest. His position was relaxed and calm. His left leg was crossed over his right one. His hands were resting on his thighs. There was no tension in his shoulders or neck, and his facial expression didn’t seem worried.

‘Don’t keep us waiting, Robert,’ Lucien urged him. ‘Patience is a virtue, but a pain in the ass to master.’

Hunter knew he had no alternative but to play Lucien’s game.

‘Location,’ he said at last. ‘Do you really know the exact location of every body you disposed of?’

Clap, clap, clap.

Lucien had put his cup of coffee down on the floor, and had begun clapping slowly.

‘He’s good, isn’t he?’ Lucien asked Taylor in a sarcastic tone. ‘If I were you, I’d pay attention, Agent Taylor. You might learn a thing or two here today.’

Taylor did her best not to glare at him.

‘You know why that’s the right question, Agent Taylor?’ he asked rhetorically, like a lecturing teacher. ‘Because if I answer “no” to it, this whole thing is over. You can pack me up and send me off to the electric chair. I’m no use to you, or the FBI anymore.’ Without taking his eyes off Taylor, he picked up his coffee cup from the floor. ‘You’re not here to get a confession from me, Agent Taylor. That part is done and dusted. I am a killer. I murdered all those people . . . brutally.’ There was a chilling pride in Lucien’s last few words. ‘The only reason I’m still here is because you desperately need something from me.’ He glanced at Hunter. ‘The location of all the bodies. Not really because you need proof of what I’ve done, but because families need closure. They need to give their loved ones a proper burial, isn’t that right, Agent, Taylor?’

Again Taylor didn’t reply.

‘If I answer “no” to Robert’s question, there’s no point in having any more interviews. There’s no point in asking any more questions. There’s no point in keeping me here, because I can’t give you what you need.’ A ghost of a smile graced Lucien’s lips. This was certainly amusing him. ‘Tell me, Agent Taylor, does it make you mad that an outsider can do your job better than you?’