Audioception.
Or, in layman's terms, the sense of hearing.
My next encounter with Will Graham was equally as enlightening. Or at least, it was an encounter that made the second most striking impression. I found myself listening more intently than usual to the voice of another. Usually, the sound of those whom I find myself in the company of, rarely extends beyond anything more interesting to me than that of white noise.
"This copycat is an avid reader of Freddie Lounds and Tattlecrime. He had intimate knowledge of Garrett Jacob Hobbs's murders, motives, patterns enough to recreate them and, arguably, elevate them to art."
As I listened closely, I noted my enthusiasm for understanding the component parts that made Will Graham "tick", for want of a better word, mildly increased. I maintained a sense of cool detachment to the rising keenness within, driving my impulses to understand how those parts fit together in such a seamless manner as to permit the intense portrayal to the outside world of this broken soul standing before me.
"How intimately did he know Garrett Jacob Hobbs? Did he appreciate him from afar or did he engage him? Did he ingratiate himself into Hobbs's life? Did Hobbs know his copycat as he was known?"
In truth, Will Graham's expression of self was merely a facet of his impeccable mirroring of the world around him. How broken and chaotic was the world in which we found ourselves a part of, but truly, from which we remained apart. The other more interesting facets that went to constitute Will Graham, remained buried deep beneath the façade. For the present time at least. Such facets were only obvious to one such as myself, acutely attuned to the nuances of body language, the rise and fall in tone of voice, the smell emanating from another, imperceptible to those who operate within the "normal" spectrum of existence.
"Before Garrett Jacob Hobbs murdered his wife and attempted to do the same to his daughter, he received an untraceable call."
I began to recognise the cocoon of safety in which Will Graham wrapped his mind and soul had its weak spots. Perhaps these weak spots could be penetrated by qualities only someone such as myself had to offer.
"I believe the as-yet unidentified caller was our copycat killer."
I found myself indulging in a rare thing for a man of my self control and well-defined sense of centred-calm. I smiled.
I felt the limbic animal within me rouse for the briefest of moments before I lulled it back to peaceful slumber.
I see you, Mr Graham. I hear you the unmistakeable darkness in your voice. I thrill and fear in the knowledge that you and I will come to understand each other better than we understand ourselves…
