Agent Scott seems too disgusted to talk with their killers and Agent Francis doesn't seem sure what to say, so it leaves Agent Farnsworth with the sole duty of speaking. She has an assortment of files with her, ones that she believes are important to have so she can gauge the two's personalities. They contain horrible pictures, ones that keep her up at night while Claire sleeps peacefully beside her. She hates thinking about these ugly things, but it's her job and she's already gained a good standing with Mr and Mrs Bishop.
"We're trying to pin down the exact number of people you murdered," Agent Farnsworth says, looking between them.
"Mmm." Mrs Bishop studies her impeccable manicure
Farnsworth asks hopefully, "Want to give us a number?"
Mr Bishop gives her a bored look. "Not really."
"Doctors, scientists, assistants… the two of you made quite a list." Agent Farnsworth looks over the official roster of victims, fighting back a shudder over the amount of names. "Ms Nina Sharp of Massive Dynamic was probably your most notable victim."
"High profile," Mrs Bishop agrees.
"But the thing that interests me is how you killed Dr Bell. Strangulation. It matched one other homicide here in Massachusetts, almost three years before his."
"I'm sure many people are strangled in this state," the woman coolly insists.
"But not by a woman." Farnsworth pushes the open file that shows the crime scene photos of the dead scientist across the table. "In fact, this matches the Co-Ed Killer's M.O. perfectly. Not only that, but it happened the night of your wedding. It shows here you and your husband were interviewed the morning you were supposed to leave for your honeymoon. You killed him, didn't you?"
Mrs Bishop's eyes don't leave hers as a large devilish smile crosses her face.
Liv sits in the club on the edge of campus, pretending to drink something fruity and candy pink as she watches the girls out on the dance floor. Her hand goes up again for the slightest of moments to make sure her dark brown wig is still in place as she finally spots a young woman with potential. This girl screams lesbian and desperation which is exactly what Liv wants. She has to be patient and her eyes glance up to a clock above the club's exit to make sure she's still on schedule.
The fingertips to her right hand are covered with bandages to cover her prints and she knows she'll have to wipe off her lipmark off the glass so she doesn't leave DNA behind.
The girl comes up to her, her chest pushed out. "Hi."
"Hello," Liv says, making her lips give a coy smile.
The girl sits down next to her, one of her hands resting on Liv's thigh. "You've been staring at me."
Liv hates the ones who are overly confident. "Who wouldn't?"
The girl tells Liv her name and Liv tells her she's Nick, short for Nicky. Liv had had a summer camp acquaintance named Nick Lane and she's been using it as her alias forever. Liv buys drinks for her new toy, flirting and getting her drunk on poorly made mojitos and too-sweet cosmos. It isn't long before they're deciding to leave together and they stumble out of the dark, loud, pulsing club.
The night air is cool and soothing, quiet save the occasional sound of traffic in the distance. Liv's drunk companion stumbles slightly as they cross the empty campus green and Liv knows this is a perfect place to get rid of her. She waits until they get closer to a patch of leafy bushes and spots a series of large rocks lining the topiaries.
Liv bends down and begins to play with her shoelace, setting her handbag safely on the ground. "Hold on, I need to tie my shoe."
The girl giggles and nods, playing with her hair and Liv points off ahead of them, feigning concern. "What's that over there?"
The girl turns around Liv stands up quickly and in one swift movement, brings one of the large stones down on the girl's skull. The girl crumples to the ground and Liv quickly straddles her chest, wrapping her fingers around the girl's neck. She's always had strong hands and the smallest movement in the thyroid's cartilage means it's cracked. Her nipples harden as she increases the pressure, crushing the windpipe, restricting the airflow.
These sluts all look the same beneath her, they all look like Mom. Whores, all of them! She hates these women—nasty, horrible, opening their legs up for anyone, the ones that become teenage mothers and force their kids into a shit life just like Mom did, I hate you, cheap—
The girl wakes up at the last minute and Liv can't help but smile as she claws weakly at her long-sleeved shirt, unable to get a grip on her. Her face is a dark purple and her eyes are bulging. It's almost over and Liv slams her head against the back of the lawn again. The woman gives one last fight for freedom, grabbing onto the brown wig Liv wears, yanking at it so that it hangs lopsided from Liv's head.
Now it lies motionless on the ground, finally dead, and Liv is fast to find her pocketknife, cutting the clothes of its body until it's naked. She finds the spray bottle of industrial bleach in her handbag and begins to quickly spray the body down to remove all trace evidence she may have accidentally left behind. Its skin glistens in the moonlight like dew and she puts her supplies back in her shoulder bag as well as the clothes and the wig, taking a moment to stand back and observe her work. This is definitely one of her best so far.