The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(29)



Hurdle leaned against a closet door to his right. “If it’s a dead end, it won’t be the only one we hit. But we do our job and see what we get.”

“What about where they spend their money?” Morrison asked.

“Yes,” Tarkoff said. “And that’s your assignment because that falls under your purview with the Secret Service. Credit card bills, bank accounts. Look for patterns. We may get something from those old spending patterns. Maybe not. But we’re all creatures of habit. He’s a free man again. He may fall back into buying the same things. What he liked before he’ll still like—maybe even crave. Could be the kind of thing he’s been thinking about for months, obsessing over every night before he went to bed. The taste of beer, a movie, a football game. Shit he can’t do in the joint, stuff he figured he’d never get to do again in his life.”

Hurdle stood up straight. “We also need to look at what resources he has at his disposal. What cash he’s got, in what bank accounts. Jasmine may be able to help with some of that, like maybe she knows what bank he was with. They’ve obviously been dormant, but she may’ve kept the accounts active for him.”

“Doubt it,” Vail said.

“Check it out anyway,” Tarkoff said, “in case they’re still open and he tries to get at the cash. Never know what we’ll find. If we filter things out because of our personal biases, we may miss something important.”

“We’re monitoring the phones that the CO, Sanders, and his partner had, as well as the one that Olifante left the prison with this morning.” Hurdle consulted his iPad and typed something into the onscreen keyboard. “Curtis, I’m making you point on that. Could give us some valuable leads if Marcks took one of their cells when he left that truck. At the moment, I’ve been told all three numbers have been silent, no activity. Powered down—or the battery’s dead. But anyone makes a call on any of those lines, you’ll be notified immediately.”

“I’ve assembled an Excel sheet with all our phone numbers,” Tarkoff said, turning toward the computer to his right. He slid the keyboard out from beneath the countertop and started hunting and pecking. “Emailing it to each of you right now. Import the numbers and emails into your phone contacts.”

Morrison gestured at Vail. “How about you give us a psychological profile of Marcks.”

“It’s not really a psychological profile,” Vail said. “But I can give you Agent Underwood’s assessment of the UNSUB they were looking for, what motivated him, elements of his personality that lent itself to serial murder, and so on. Actually, I’ll focus more on what we learned about Roscoe Lee Marcks after he was apprehended because that’s more relevant to what we’re dealing with here. He’s a known quantity, not an unknown subject.

“I tried interviewing him a number of times over the years but ironically it wasn’t till a couple of days ago that he finally agreed. Probably because he figured it’d be his last chance to talk because he was planning to leave. He was engaging and glib, bright and threatening. Not to state the obvious, but it’s not good news that he’s out in the general populace.”

“You think he’ll get back into the rhythm of killing again?” Morrison asked. “Aside from the CO and nurse—which were part of his escape.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a rhythm, but I understand what you mean. And yes, he’ll definitely return to his old ways. Count on it. Killing is something these guys enjoy. It fills a need, a hunger that builds over time. He’s had seven years to fantasize about it. Not to mention that psychopaths get bored very easily. Being out in the wild, on the run, most people would be nervous. Not him. He’s excited. It’s one big challenge to him, one he’s sure he’ll win. So there will be more bodies—very soon—unless we can scoop him up.”

Vail rose and rested her right hand on the chair back. “We’re looking at an offender of greater than average intelligence. Other than his avocation as a serial murderer, he graduated from Indiana University with a degree in public administration. But in his sophomore year he was arrested for assaulting a dorm mate. Beat him pretty good. Kid didn’t press charges and there were mitigating factors because alcohol was involved and a witness said the other guy started it. He eventually recovered fully and no formal charges were brought against Marcks.

“Until his senior year when he was again arrested, this time for armed robbery of a mini-mart. Problem is, the gun belonged to the store owner. Marcks claimed he was with a friend who was robbing the place and he had no idea what was going down. The owner pulled a .38 Special from the register and his friend punched the guy. The gun flew out of his hand and Marcks picked it up just when the cops showed. There was no video so they only had statements of admission from Marcks and his friend. Marcks dropped the dime on his buddy and a plea deal was reached. Case dragged on until after he graduated, so he got his degree.

“But he served six months and when he got out he couldn’t land a job, let alone something in his major. No company would have anything to do with him—nor would any municipality. He walked around with a ton of student loans and a big chip on his shoulder. Got into a few bar fights and eventually moved back to Virginia. He found a gig driving a bread truck, which put him on the road at 4:00 AM and at home by 3:00 PM. That later became significant because it gave him a lot of time to troll for his victims.

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