Page 37 of The Smart Killer (High Peaks Murder, Mystery and Crime Thrillers #4)

Porter ran a hand over his head and groaned. “Look, I know where you’re going with this, Sutherland, but we all saw Alejandro’s psych file. The guy was a looney toon. Hearing voices. Diagnosed as having a split personality disorder.”

“No. His psychologist suggested he be assessed for a potential split personality disorder. That doesn’t mean he had one.

That might have just been an opinion. For all we know, the psychologist may have misunderstood.

It happens all the time. Last night, while I was at the hospital, I spoke with his mother.

I spoke with people at his local church.

I even spoke with those who saw him daily in jail.

There was no indication that he was anything but normal. ”

Porter laughed. “I hardly think spying on people is normal, Sutherland.”

“You know what I mean. Allow yourself to entertain the idea that he wasn’t speaking about himself in the third person but was actually talking about someone he knew had targeted these people.

Someone close to him who also knew about his past, his religious upbringing, his remorse, and his need to be forgiven, and played on it.

We heard Alejandro say, ‘ He said we would come knocking. He said it would end this way. But I thought if I warned them. If I sent the letters, I would be forgiven for my transgressions.’ That tells us a lot. ”

Porter leaned forward into the conversation. Even his mind was beginning to consider the possibility. Any detective worth his lick of salt considered all theories. “Okay, but even if that was true, that would imply this person told Alejandro of his intentions. Why would anyone take that risk?”

“Maybe he thought Alejandro wanted revenge. And maybe Alejandro initially did. But what if he changed his mind? He’d been out of prison for over a year and a half before the first family was murdered.

Why would he wait? He’d already waited years.

Why not just murder them immediately? I think it was because it wasn’t him who committed the crimes.

I think Alejandro was trying to stay on the straight and narrow, to do right by his mother, his church, and his faith.

But after the first murder, he couldn’t go to the cops with what he knew because he knew everyone would see him as the most obvious suspect, so he decided to warn the next families through letters. ”

“I don’t know about this, Sutherland,” McKenzie said. “I know you have an instinct for these things, but even this is a stretch; I mean, even if that’s true, why would our guy target those three families?”

“To deflect attention away from himself. Those were the families that Alejandro had spied on. He makes the perfect scapegoat.”

“I’ll go with that, but how does your father fit into all this?”

“Well, I don’t think it is my father. In fact, I don’t think the focus was any of the families. I think our guy is targeting the company. A form of sabotage. I’m just not entirely sure why right now.”

Porter chuckled. “Not sure?” He shook his head, rising from his chair. “Well, I’m glad you’ve cleared up that matter,” Porter said, walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Noah asked. “I’m not done.”

“You aren’t. I am. We got our guy. Case closed.”

That said, Porter walked out of the war room, leaving a tense atmosphere behind him. The harsh fluorescent lights cast long shadows as he disappeared down the hallway, convinced he had found the perpetrator responsible for the murders.

Noah and McKenzie exchanged uncertain glances, their doubts evident.

As the door swung shut, an awkward silence settled over the room, amplifying the distant hum of office equipment.

McKenzie, the most seasoned detective out of the two, with a penchant for skepticism, broke the stillness by standing up, his expression troubled.

“I don’t want to believe Porter is right any more than you, Noah,” McKenzie said, his voice cutting through the uneasy quiet.

“But you must admit you are asking us to go out on a limb here. In my experience, I tend to lean towards Occam’s Razor.

The simplest explanation is preferable to the more complex one. ”

“Complex for who? Our guy is smart, McKenzie. I don’t know why he’s targeting Lakeridge right now, but whatever it is, he’s pulled it off almost perfectly.”

“Almost?”

Noah cocked his head.

Whether it was his age, curiosity, or having done the job for so long, McKenzie continued to follow his theory. Theories were all they had when evidence was far and few between. “Okay, look, if Alejandro knew who was behind this and felt he couldn’t go to the cops, then why the letters?”

Noah, his mind racing with multiple thoughts, was quick to respond. “Anonymity. I think Alejandro was afraid for more reasons than one.”

Noah crossed the room and reached into his coat, laid across a table behind him, and retrieved a magazine, the same one taken from Stephen Coleman’s home.

As he walked back, McKenzie continued, “So, how did they meet?”

McKenzie frowned, a deep line forming between his brows. Noah dropped the magazine open to a full-page advertisement. McKenzie picked it up, his eyes scanning the glossy page.

“A drone?” McKenzie said. “You think our guy was using a drone to observe the homes?” McKenzie asked, full of skepticism.

Noah nodded. “After.”

McKenzie looked at him, waiting for an explanation for why he was so convinced.

Noah began recounting a conversation he had with Savannah and the revelation he had during the investigation.

“Listen, I said to Savannah, if you got out of jail and were eager to exact revenge, wouldn’t you at least want to observe them?

She replied, maybe he did. That stuck with me.

With the system up, he could hack in and see the families without any problem.

But once the system was shut off at the first crime scene, burnt to a crisp at the second, and frozen at the third, I think he would have wanted to see the aftermath, the reaction of the media, to check to see who might have escaped, if any, and to make sure everything worked.

Call it morbid curiosity. Then, it came to me on the day I attended the third crime scene.

Media people were behind the tape, vying for an interview, and a drone was flying overhead.

At the time, I just assumed it was one of theirs. ”

He stared at McKenzie, who was now fully engrossed, and said, “It wasn’t?”

Noah shook his head. “I phoned Maggie at the paper. None of the media in attendance were using a drone.”

McKenzie shrugged, attempting to rationalize the situation. “Well, perhaps, it was a lookie-loo, a rubbernecker from the neighborhood. They always show up.”

“They do,” Noah agreed, his gaze unwavering. “As do those who return to crime scenes.”

“So, this drone you saw at the crime scene — you think it’s our guy?”

Noah nodded.

“Why not Alejandro?”

“For the reasons I already explained.”

“All right.” McKenzie groaned, glancing down at the magazine. “But look, Noah, the range on these is anywhere from 100 meters if it’s a toy, 4 kilometers if it’s a hobby drone, and up to 15 kilometers if it’s a multi-rotor. Our guy could have been observing from miles away.”

“But that’s the thing, I don’t think he was miles away,” he said, turning toward the screen and using the remote.

“I reviewed the media footage from the last three crime scenes last night. The recordings are available to the public online. Not only is that black drone seen at some point at all three crime scenes, but look at what else they caught…” he said as a media camera panned to show multiple vehicles behind the tape, giving them a clear shot of those who were there.

“See this guy,” he said, pointing out someone with a hood up among the cars, holding a device in hand.

“He’s not among the media, and if he was from the neighborhood, why would he be at all three crime scenes?

One was in Saranac Lake, thirty minutes from High Peaks. ”

“You think that’s a controller in his hands?”

Noah nodded.

McKenzie stared at the footage. Noah knew he’d hooked him.

“But why risk showing up?”

“To make sure he could collect it if his drone went down.”

“Why?”

“To avoid being tracked.”

“So, how did Alejandro meet this individual?”

Noah reached for the remote. “There was a case a few months back of a guy spying on his neighbor using a drone. What better way to connect with someone who doesn’t have access to the internet but likes to watch people than through a local drone group?

” Noah hit a button and changed the screen to a flyer forthe Greater Adirondack Area Drones Meetup Group in Elizabethtown.

“This group meets weekly to discuss and share drone flying experiences.”

“You think our guy met Alejandro through that group?”

Noah nodded. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“A part of Alejandro’s release conditions was not to have access to the internet, spyware, or technology that could let him re-offend.

All footage recorded on a drone is held on an SD card in the drone.

There is no need for the internet. Unless his drone goes down, who will question or even see a drone flying overhead? ”

McKenzie asked, “So, Alejandro owned one?”

Noah nodded as he took out his phone and showed him an email of a white drone. “His mother confirmed it. Said he had one before he went away to jail. That he would attend these group meetings.”

“That’s why Alejandro ran the day Porter and I showed up there. I think he thought someone had figured out he was using a drone and had reported him.”

“But how does any of that help us?”

“Here’s the thing: any drone larger than your hand’s palm must have an FAA registration number.

As drones are considered part of national airspace, there are measures taken before you can fly one.

One of those measures is registering the drone and marking it with the registration number in case it spirals down.

They have to be able to track it back to the owner.

That registration number is linked to the owner’s name and address. ”

“But our guy could have stolen one.”

“Yes, but…” Noah pointed to the video of the guy in the hood. “Then why show up? There would be no reason. If the drone went down it couldn’t be linked back to him. Unless of course, it can.”

McKenzie tapped his finger at Noah. “You know they take the brains of serial killers to study them. I think when you die, they should do the same with you as you just don’t think the same.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment.” He grinned.

McKenzie stared at the video footage again. “So, we just have to wait until he strikes again and either nab this guy in the hoodie or shoot his drone down.” McKenzie shook his head, groaning as he glanced down at the magazine, absorbing the information.

Noah looked at his wristwatch.

“Maybe not. Grab your coffee, let’s go.”