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‘Cults don’t exist,’ Ella said.

Ross had commandeered a corner office for her and Luca in the 23rd Precinct, away from the rest of the force. Ella had claimed the far end of the table, near the whiteboard, so she could attack it with her thoughts when the urge struck. Now was such a time. She drew a thick black line under the word 'MOTIVE.'

‘You sure about that?’ Luca was setting up his laptop, wrestling with cables that seemed determined to strangle each other. ‘Because those photos Ross showed us-’

‘Are weird, yeah. But satanic cults? Secret societies performing ritual murders?’ She shook her head. ‘It's all urban legend.’

‘Manson Family?’

‘Small-time criminals who got high and killed people. That's not a cult, that's Saturday night in Detroit.’

‘What about those others? Scientology and all that?’

‘Sure, we've got Scientology, Heaven's Gate, People's Temple – groups that manipulate people out of money or into mass suicide. But satanic cults sacrificing virgins under the full moon? Pure fantasy.’

Luca asked, ‘What about those Norwegian black metal bands who burned down churches?’

‘Teenagers getting high and listening to Slayer don't count.’

‘I love Slayer.’

‘Of course you do.’ Ella stepped back from the board. ‘My point is, every supposed satanic cult case has turned out to be either a hoax, a cover-up, or a lone nutjob with too much time and black nail polish. The FBI spent years investigating ritual abuse claims in the eighties. Found exactly zero evidence.’

Luca finally won his battle with the cables and then sat down at his laptop. 'Well, there's a first time for everything.'

Ella didn't answer. Her eyes tracked across the timeline she'd drawn. Friday: Marcus attends his last faculty meeting. Saturday: drives to the quarry. Saturday afternoon through Tuesday: dead in a hole while his colleagues wonder where he is. Today, everything goes to hell.

‘Okay. Let's lay out what we know.’ She uncapped the marker again and sketched a basic link analysis. Marcus Thornton in the center. Lines radiating out to other elements: the quarry, the symbols, the grave robberies, the dead animals. Question marks everywhere.

‘First problem.’ She circled Marcus's name. ‘Who knew enough about him to set this trap?’

‘Olivia Westbrook,’ Luca suggested. ‘They worked together for twelve years.’

Ella nodded and wrote the name. ‘Who else?’

‘Other faculty members. Students. Ex-wife, maybe?’

More names went up on the board. ‘What about the email that lured him there?’

Luca pulled out his notebook. ‘The email address was just a random bunch of letters and numbers. Here, I’ll try and say it aloud. Zero-pumag-two-one-four at Burnbox dot com.’

‘Let’s see it.’ Ella glimpsed Luca’s notes. [email protected] .

‘ Pumag. Is that a word?’

‘Not that I know of. What are the odds we can trace it?’

Luca said, ‘Not in our favor. Burnbox is one of those self-destructing domains. It creates a temporary address for like three hours.’

‘Send it to Amelia anyway. Many a psycho has been busted because of their delusions of technological grandeur. What about the photos?’

‘Don’t know yet. We might be able to extract the metadata if we can get into Marcus’s email, but I don’t know how that works with self-destructing addresses. It might wipe the metadata too.’

‘Long story short, our killer knows their way around technology.’ Ella added that to the board. ‘But the killer couldn’t have known that Marcus would print the email off.’

‘So?’

Ella considered the juxtaposition between the theatrical death and the body that was presumably supposed to remain unfound. ‘The symbols suggest theater, but theater needs an audience. This guy left Marcus’s body sixty feet underground for three days. If he wanted people to find him, he could have made an anonymous call to the cops.’

‘So the symbols are his ritual, and his ritual is personal. Or he knew that cops would eventually check Marcus’s emails.’

Ella wasn’t sure. Something here didn’t add up. ‘Did they found Marcus’s phone?’

Luca stretched. His burns must have been hurting too, but he hadn't complained once. ‘Yep. In his pocket. Should have clearance to search it within 24 hours. Think this is connected to the grave robberies? ’

Ella studied the board. Five desecrated graves. Dead animals arranged like art pieces. And now Marcus, posed at the bottom of a geometrically perfect hole. The symbols that had been spray painted on the gravestones matched the ones at the quarry exactly.

‘I think we focus on what we know.’ She jabbed the marker at Marcus's name. ‘Dead professor. Impossible rocks. Carved symbols. Everything else is noise until proven otherwise.’

‘What about the animals?’

‘Practice runs maybe. Testing techniques, building confidence.’ She added ESCALATION PATTERN to the board. ‘But let's work the case we've got. Marcus first. If connections to the other incidents exist, they'll surface.’

‘Alright.’ Luca studied her diagram. ‘Where do we start?’

‘Same place we always start. Who knew him? Who had access? Who had motive?’ She drew three circles and labeled them. First ring: colleagues and students. Second ring: academic contacts, research partners. Third ring: personal relationships.

'Not much in that last circle, according to Olivia.'

‘Everyone has relationships. Even if they're just the person who delivers their mail or makes their coffee.’ Ella capped the marker. ‘People leave traces. Marcus taught here twelve years - that's a lot of human contact to map.’

Luca stood up and stumbled over to the solitary glass partition that overlooked the rest of the precinct. ‘Weird question, but why did Ross say that he didn’t want this so-called cult information getting out there? Do you think he suspects someone on the inside?’

Ella had been asking herself the same question. ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

As if summoned by speaking his name, Detective Ross appeared in the doorway. ‘Agents, everything set up?’

Ella said, ‘All done, thank you.’

Ross nodded at the whiteboard. ‘You’re right, you do work fast.’

‘No time to waste. Any updates yet?’

‘It’s gonna take us a day to get access to the vic’s computer. Lots of confidentiality laws are working against us. But I broke the news to the university. I told them we might drop by today and interview as many people as we could. The dean said she'd line up everyone she could.'

‘Good work. Me and Hawkins will head down there in an hour or two.’

‘Alright. I’m just across the corridor if you need anything. ’

Ella asked, ‘Ross, could you send me the photos of the grave robberies? And the animal mutilations?’

Ross took a moment, then nodded. ‘I’ll send them over right away.’

Ella turned back to the board after Ross disappeared. The facts stared back at her in stark black and white, but she knew better than most that truth lived in the gray areas. In the coffee rings on desk corners, in the way people answered questions they weren't asked, in the spaces between what they said and what they meant.

Time to find out who Marcus Thornton really was. Not just the rock-loving professor who color-coded his mineral collection, but the man beneath all that careful organization. Because someone had known him well enough to lure him to his death.

Murderous cults might not exist, but killers who wanted you to believe in them definitely did.