Kingdom of Strangers by Zoë Ferraris Read Free Book Online Page B

three?”
    “Yes.”
    Charlie was thoughtful for a moment. “The hands are probably his trophies. It’s definitely worth asking why he only buried three of them. There may be some evidence on those three that will lead you to understand why he chose to cut hands off in the first place. You may not be able to figure it out until you catch him, but if you understand it, it can be a very valuable clue.
    “You’re going to need to find out more, of course, but from what you have learned about this guy, I think you’re dealing with a very organized killer. He took the time to dispose of the bodies. And given their state—the missing hands, the mutilated faces—and the isolation of the locale, he’s obviously been working systematically. The most recent victim was three months dead?”
    “No more than six,” Ibrahim said.
    “Then I hate to say it, but he will probably kill again soon. He will be, right now, planning his next kill. The real question is, how is he getting access to these women? Where is he finding them and what do they have in common? You obviously have a lot of work to do in terms of identifying them. He’s going to realize that you’ve found where he buried his victims, and he will adapt his methods. He probably won’t go to the same place to find his victims anymore, but he may not be so willing to change his ‘type.’ ”
    This was followed by an uneasy silence.
    “Well,” Daher remarked in Arabic, “maybe we should start telling our women to stay indoors.”
    Charlie looked to Kazaz for a translation, but he frowned.
    The room fell silent, full from its intellectual meal. Ibrahim detected a slight shakiness: so many officers unused to taking directions from a woman.
    “I think that’s enough for now,” Chief Riyadh said. “Dr. Becker has kindly agreed to be available to answer questions over the next month, so we’ll be able to talk with her in more depth once the medical examiner has finished his reports and we’ve heard from forensics.”
    The group broke up slowly. Charlie and Riyadh stood at the front of the room chatting, and Daher made a man-pack with his friends. Katya slipped out of the room.
    In the hallway, Ibrahim bumped into Talib, the Murrah tracker.
    “You left early,” Ibrahim remarked.
    “Well, I knew it wasn’t her.” He tossed his chin in the direction of Dr. Becker.
    “Thank God for that. But you said you didn’t have a footprint of the killer.”
    “Oh, we had something,” Talib said. “Not clear enough for a photograph, but good for our purposes. Enough to get a sense of him.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me this at the crime scene?”
    “It took a long time to eliminate all the other men who were at the scene.”
    “All right,” Ibrahim said. “It’s definitely a man, then?”
    “Yes.”
    “And where does he live, this killer?”
    Talib smiled. “What a funny question. What makes you think I can answer it?”
    Ibrahim shrugged.
    “He lives in the city. Nothing wrong with his back. He’s much taller than me, probably heavier.” With a small pair of hands, Talib cupped a gesture around his gerbil-size paunch.
    “And are you going to tell me how you came to this?” Ibrahim asked.
    “He uses his right foot differently than his left. And the way that he uses it differently means he either has an injury or drives a car. The right is more flexible, all the way along the bottom of the foot and even the ankle. Twists side to side a little when he walks. It’s the stronger leg too. He’s probably right-handed.”
    “And he’s a man because?”
    “Only men drive cars.”
    Ibrahim smiled, then let out a laugh. “Yes, sorry. Glad someone’s using logic.”
    The Bedouin waved his hand in a courtly gesture that said
I’m quite certain you’re better at logic than I am
.
    Ibrahim unlocked his office door and said good-bye to Talib. He barely had time to switch on the lights before the other men came in: first one of the junior cops, Shaya, then Daher