CHAPTER EIGHT
Kate’s phone buzzed. She glanced up from the cipher and read Marcus’s message. Talked to detectives. They have an alibi for last night. Going to talk to maid now. How’s the cipher going?
Kate looked back at the mess of notes she’d taken and replied, Lot of good stuff. I’ll update you when you get back.
Marcus texted a laughing emoji and a moaning emoji. Kate chuckled. Marcus had the technological literacy of a seventy-year-old.
She texted back a thumbs up, then turned back to the cipher.
After recognizing the first line, she was pretty sure that she knew what the cipher was.
A couple of quick internet searches and a test of a few more lines confirmed it.
The killer was using stenographer’s shorthand, a form of abbreviated writing used by court stenographer’s to rapidly record minutes in a trial when the law required every single word and action be thoroughly documented.
Stenographers typed using a twenty-two key steno machine with chorded keys that could mean entire syllables, words, or phrases depending on the order and context.
Using THO*U SHAULT TPHOT KEUL as the key, Kate was able to identify the specific shorthand the killer was using and translate the rest of the message.
And it was indeed a long one. Several Bible verses featured prominently.
Besides the obligatory commandment, there was Genesis 9:6.
“He who sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed.
” This appeared near the top of the message, after a brief, passionate rant about how that commandment was the clearest and most obvious of God’s instructions.
A little further down, Kate saw Deuteronomy 27: 19. “Cursed is anyone who withholds justice from the fatherless and the widow.” This was followed by another rant where the killer asked the reader why humanity so often allowed murderers to escape the consequences of their actions.
The rant ended with another passage of scripture, this one from Leviticus 16.
“And Aaron shall cast lots over the two goats, one lot for the Lord and the other lot for Azazel. And Aaron shall present the goat on which the lot fell for the Lord and use it as a sin offering, but the goat on which the lot fell for Azazel shall be presented alive before the Lord to make atonement over it, that it may be sent away into the wilderness to Azazel.”
Kate read the verses several times over.
A pit formed in her stomach. While investigating the Sabbath portion of the commandment killings, Kate had talked to Gabe about Cox’s obsession with her, struggling to understand why Cox cared so much about her specifically.
The concept of a scapegoat had come up in that conversation.
Historians believed the Levitical rite was adapted from ancient Mediterranean and North African traditions where a criminal would be chosen as a stand-in for all of the sins committed by a community.
That criminal would be paraded through the community, spit on, ridiculed, sometimes stoned.
At the end of the rite, the criminal would be dunked into the water, and when he was pulled out, all would be forgiven. For him and for the entire community.
The Levitical right eschewed the use of a human being, but the scapegoat wasn’t “forgiven.” It was cast out of the community, sent into the wilderness, or in this translation, Azazel. It carried the weight of those sins for the remainder of its likely shortened life.
Gabe believed it was possible that Cox was using Kate as a scapegoat, that his torment of her was part of some ritual whereby she would suffer for the sins of the entire nation or maybe the entire world, and when she was finally sacrificed, the world would be cleansed of its transgressions.
It was a bit of a stretch, but so much with Cox had started out seeming like a stretch only to prove very real upon closer examination.
Was that the message? Was Cox confirming Gabe’s suspicion and saying that he intended Kate to act as scapegoat for the world?
She got to her feet and stepped onto the balcony of their hotel room.
The city was in full tilt below, and a cacophony of honks and shouts reached her ears.
A few miles away, the towering skyline shimmered in the midday sun, blue and black spikes piercing the sky.
Cox would probably see those buildings as an affront to God, a symbol of man’s arrogance, modern towers of Babel.
To Kate, these weren’t symbols of pride but of fear.
The world was full of untouched wilderness.
In the middle of a city like this, it was easy to believe that Earth was too crowded, but drive for an hour outside of any city on Earth, and one would find themselves in thin, spread-out rural towns if they found any human habitation at all.
Yet people preferred to live here, stacked on top of each other like a school of fish.
Sardines did that hoping that their numbers would increase their chances of survival by presenting too large a target for predators to pick out individuals among them.
Humans were smart enough to know that murders happened everywhere, city or not, but they still lived as close together as possible.
In numbers, there was safety. Alone, one was vulnerable.
Logical or not, that’s how people’s minds worked.
The door to the room opened, and Kate spun around, eyes widening. Marcus grimaced and lifted his hands in apology. “Sorry. I should’ve knocked.”
“Or texted or called. Something.”
“I did text.”
Kate blinked and checked her phone. Sure enough, he had texted her twenty minutes ago that he was on his way back. How had she missed that? How long had she been outside staring at the city?
She came back into the room and shut the door to the balcony. “Got it. Well, welcome back. Glad I didn’t have my gun in my hand, or I might be texting Cheryl that her new man has a new hole in him.”
Marcus’s face darkened, and Kate winced and smacked her forehead with her palm. “Shit. Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He forced a smile. “I can’t expect you to keep up with the crests and troughs of my marriage.”
He looked around the room. “I like it. Comfy, quiet, and a nice view of traffic.”
Kate couldn’t tell if he was joking or if he really appreciated the view. He was a New Yorker, so maybe he found traffic nostalgic. “How did the interviews go?”
“Well, the maid was no help. If she’s the killer, then she does the best impression of shocked and traumatized for life by the body of her dead boss that I’ve ever seen.
My vote is she’s not the killer, and she also knows nothing.
She was listening to music when she was cleaning.
The noise she heard was probably the killer opening the window so they could escape.
Considering how fast Derek Hammond died, it’s unlikely he cried out. ”
“Fair enough. And the ex-wife?”
“Hasn’t gotten back to me yet, but she lives in Los Angeles now.
According to her Facebook profile, she’s dating an investment banker who’s also rich and hasn’t been accused of offing any of his partners.
They have no kids, so I don’t think there’s any reason for her to fly all the way back to Chicago to kill her ex-husband. ”
Kate nodded. “And the detectives have an alibi.”
“Yep.”
“So, no one’s jumping out as a suspect, and we’ve learned that Hammond probably killed his partner and got away with it, which pissed a lot of people off, but no one who had opportunity to kill him.”
“Someone had opportunity,” Marcus said. “Someone made good use of that opportunity. We just need to find out who.”
“Said every detective ever.”
Marcus sniffed. “Yeah.” He thrust his chin at the notes on her desk. “You said you got some info?”
“I do. I’m not entirely sure what it means yet, but it’s there.”
Marcus sidled to the desk and scanned the translation. “Jesus. This is a damned essay.”
“It is,” Kate agreed. “This killer had a lot to get off their chest.”
Marcus’s eyes narrowed, and she knew he’d come to the part about the scapegoat. He crossed his arms and asked, a little reluctantly, “Do you think this has something to do with you?”
Kate took a breath to allow herself a moment to divorce herself from emotion. “It could. It doesn’t have to. It could refer to the killer.”
“So, the killer’s sacrificing people to God to atone for their sins?”
“Or they’re committing murder to atone for murder.”
He cocked his head. “Hmm. Okay. So, the end justifies the means here?”
“Possibly,” Kate said. “I think it might be the killer’s confession. They know what they’re doing is wrong, but they believe they’re doing a good thing anyway. They’re taking the sin of murder upon themselves to absolve the unjust judges of the sin of letting the real murderers get away.”
“Yeah, I saw that part too. That seems really complicated for Cox. No offense.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why would that offend me?”
“I… don’t know. But it does seem a little complicated.”
Kate chewed her lip. “I don’t know if I’d say it’s complicated. More like disjointed. Look at the Bible verses. The killer uses three different translations.”
“Ah. I didn’t pick up on that.”
“It starts with The King James Version with the Genesis quote. Then they complain that the command is the most obvious of God’s commands. It’s almost frustrated in tone, like a parent who can’t believe their child disobeyed by doing something stupid or dangerous.”
“That kind of sounds like Cox.”
“Not really. Cox has never come across as frustrated to me. Judgmental, but not frustrated. His disciples have sometimes exhibited frustration, but never when they’re killing sinners.
That’s always firmly focused on whatever ritual they’ve chosen to carry out Cox’s commands and by extension, God’s. ”
“I mean, stabbed through the heart, and their manifesto written with the murder weapon seems pretty ritualistic.”
“Yeah, but then we get to the Deuteronomy reference. That’s New International Version, and then there’s another rant about how wrong it is that people let murderers get away with their crimes. Then the scapegoat passage in English Standard Version at the very end.”
“Do you think the specific translations at different points matter?”
“I don’t think it’s intentional, if that’s what you’re asking.
It’s almost like the killer decided what they were going to do, then looked up verses online without making sure they used the same version for each verse.
They didn’t even quote Deuteronomy properly.
The verse mentions the foreigner as well as the fatherless and the widow. ”
Marcus frowned again. “You don’t think we’re looking at another copycat, do you?”
Kate thought for several beats. Eventually, she said, “No, I don’t think it’s another copycat. I think it’s more likely that Cox chose an instrument for the sixth commandment who’s motivated more by personal vengeance than religious zealotry.”
“That makes sense,” Marcus said. “A zealous person could have problems with breaking the sixth commandment to enforce it. More proof—not like we needed any—that this has never been about God for Cox.”
“He thinks it is, but that’s not important right now.
I think you’re right. I think Cox wanted to avoid the possibility that his instrument would question the rightness of these actions.
I think he chose someone who wanted Hammond to die, not just because he broke God’s commandment but because his actions hurt them personally. ”
“So, we’re looking for someone who Hammond hurt personally when he killed Gene Parker.”
“Yes.”
“And who did he hurt personally?”
“Does Gene Parker have a family?”
Marcus grinned. He lifted his finger and wagged it at her, lifting his eyebrows up and down as he twisted his voice and said, “Ah, my friend. Now you are asking the right questions.” His stomach growled. “Let’s grab some lunch while we look for the answers. I’m starving.”
“You’re always starving.”
“And your point is?”
She laughed and patted him on the shoulder, then followed him out of the hotel room. She felt better now that they had a direction to go in, but the last passage of the cipher still bothered her. There were two goats in that passage, one for sacrifice, and one for exile.
One of those goats was the killer and one their victim, but Kate knew it didn’t stop there. Cox’s hand was still in this, which meant his motivations were still the primary driving factor. One of those goats had to be Cox and the other Kate.
But who was to be sacrificed and who was to be exiled?