Chapter 3
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"It's not even noon, Crawford, this better be good," Saskia complained as she tightened the fluffy robe around herself. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.
The FBI agent stood in the doorway before glancing back out into the street. "This needs to be confidential."
"Fine, what is it?" Saskia gestured for him to come in with a yawn. She had barely gotten to sleep before he knocked, she grumbled as she turned the coffee machine on. "Want a coffee?"
"Sure, black, one sugar," He said. "You know your books, Sight, and Mouth?"
"What of them?" She mixed his coffee before doing her own and bringing both of the glasses to the island where he took a seat.
"We found a body today, several hours ago actually. Katz had stated a similarity between the book Sight and the way the person was murdered."
"What of it? Why does this concern me? Oh, you better not suspect that I did it. First Samson, now this." She sipped at the cup and allowed the warmth to fill her as caffeine entered her bloodstream.
"No, no. Even Doctor Lecter had said that he didn't believe you capable of something like that,"
"Good." Her face was blank before slight concern laced her features. "Why are you here? If you don't suspect me, why inform me of this?"
"They based the first murder off of the first kill in Sight, bloody blade left and all. Then the second is the same with the blowtorch, and third with the black-handled scalpel. And then the fourth and fifth. We found the fifth tonight."
Saskia stilled in her seat.
This could mean that someone was copying the kills in her book. If the trend continued, almost two dozen people would be killed if all three books were followed. Her books were very popular with young adults and older teens, perhaps sometimes the older generation.
Why would they copy her work and make it a reality?
She sipped the hot coffee, clasping her hands around the warm glass. "You're scared that this will result in a serial killer, not different killers doing this. If the person who is killing follows what I wrote, they would kill almost twenty-one people in total."
"Twenty-one? We only counted eighteen kills in the books, seven then eleven,"
"Because the last book, Listen, hasn't been published and it won't be for two weeks," Saskia almost whispered a groan, her eyes flickering in thought. "And I cannot postpone the release. There are too many branches of the publishing world to cover for every copy of it to be stopped. Are you absolutely sure about this?"
"Yes, the details you wrote completely matched all five bodies. There will be another two bodies coming up within the next few weeks."
"I only wrote about five of the seven kills in detail. The other two were more as a note." Saskia rubbed her chin to rid herself of the coffee that spilt. "Why have you told me? I can understand if you need the copy of the book early. You could have gotten a warrant to take the physical copy, but you decided to tell me and so you expect something. What is it?"
"Hannibal was right, you are sharp," Crawford's lips turned to a smile before dropping. "Will Graham isn't much help with this case since we already have the how and why. We need to know what you were thinking when you were writing the scenes since we believe the killer has gotten into the deeper meaning of your works."
"I'm just the author,"
"With a Masters in Psychology, and Sociology, along with the two years you did in law school before moving on to relocating to the states and doing lectures on academic writing. We did a background check."
"Of course you did," Saskia rolled her eyes. "So what's happening then? How will you need my help? Will I just tell you what I was thinking, or do I get to see the bodies too? I've always wondered what would happen…"
"When what?"
"Nothing," Saskia finished her glass.
"Can you come to the HeadQuarters?" His stance, while he sat, was stern and rigid as if he was cautious about his word. He had nothing to hide from her but this stance was because he couldn't disclose everything to her just yet.
She nodded with a quick, "When?"
"Now if possible,"
Saskia thought for a moment, recalling that she had nothing planned today. She sighed with a slight smile, she was still tired from only sleeping a few hours.
"Yeah, just let me get dressed," Saskia stood up before arranging the machine to make another cup of coffee and walking upstairs.
Dressed comfortably in black jeans, top and flat boots, Saskia sat against one of the walls on the floor. The board with all the information on the bodies and scenes of the crime. Several pictures of each body laid out in order of when they were found.
When she was writing the books, all the brutal murders, she thought of the things she wanted to do to the people who wronged her. They weren't always wrong when they did it, but Saskia held a grudge against them nonetheless.
"Coffee?" Crawford, or Jack as he preferred to be called, said and gestured to the small coffee machine in the corner.
"I don't drink instant coffee," Saskia rubbed her palms into her eyes when the lights became too much for her. She wasn't used to so much artificial light, especially how bright these lights were turned to. The woman had finished her two coffees already and she needed another but she wouldn't be able to until she went home.
She refused to drink that disgusting instant stuff, coffee beans or nothing for her.
"Right. Hannibal and Will will be here soon, they had an appointment… Speak of the devil, there they are," Jack's smile brightened as the impeccably dressed Hannibal, and mousey haired Will came into his office.
They both seemed tense, like predators that were ready to pounce at any moment. This made Saskia want to stand up and not be an easy target but she refused to seem weak, even to herself. Her eyes flickered to them and acknowledged that they were there, she didn't move as they stepped into the office.
"Jack, you called?" Hannibal said, running his hands down his torso to smooth the suit front. He saw Saskia lounging on the floor against the wall and smiled, showing teeth, "Ah, Saskia, you're here."
She greeted them with an almost dismissive wave before nodding.
"The killer is using my books as a template for his crimes, of course, I'm here," Saskia stated before simply crisscrossing her legs and gesturing to the board. "So far, the first two kills were the most detailed in the first book and he executed it perfectly down to leaving the instruments. Then the third and fourth were less detailed and the fifth was detailed again."
"He? How do you know it's a male?" Will asked, his eyes going to the board to see if he missed anything.
She gestured to the first picture, a man had his eyebrows removed and left deep cuts that allowed the skull beneath to see. "The force it would take to actually rip that skin and muscle off is extreme. The physical strength needed isn't something I could do either. Besides, males are usually more aggressive and random in their kills than a female who would go for more meaningful kills."
"Unless the motive is revenge," Will muttered. "Then how did Cyra do it in the book? They were supposed to be realistic?"
"Anger, great amounts of rage, and adrenaline, and a huge grudge against the person," Saskia began to try and stand as Hannibal saw and helped her up. Her vision went black as she swayed slightly, she sighed heavily and tensed her body still as she waited for it to stop.
"Saskia?" Hannibal's tone was concerned as he clasped a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. She started to walk to where she knew the board was, stopping two feet away. This happened much too often in her teens and so she was used to walking even when she couldn't see for a few moments.
"Iron deficiency and I got up too quickly, my vision is black," Saskia allowed her eyes to dart around as the centre appeared before the edges could catch up. "I'll be fine in a minute."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, it happens to me all the time. I forgot to take my iron pill before coming here," She pointed to the pictures. "This here is where they should have cut into the eyebrow before peeling the skin and flesh off, not rip it. I described it as a swift motion with a careful edge, not pull it till it comes off."
"Graphic," Jack almost muttered in a low tone.
"Well, it certainly wasn't going to be read as a bedtime story, Jack," Saskia muttered as her eyes were solely focused onto the board. Her instincts told her something was wrong on the board, that it didn't belong on there. She didn't know what it was and it was grating on her nerves and teeth.
"When was the last body killed?" Saskia turned her head a few inches but kept her eyes on the board.
"We found it this mo—" Jack started.
"No, I asked when it was killed," Saskia interrupted with a slight snap.
"Zeller said that the decomposition puts the death about forty-eight hours ago,"
"Three moons after, Cyra found her next victim, a portly woman of whom she had no respect for. Her eyes were a brilliant hue of blue when the light hit them, Cyra faked smiles for the woman but she would never care for her." Saskia recited from memory. "In the next twenty-four hours, probably tonight, there will be another body. They will have flayed skin on their cheeks and back, that's the only detail I actually put in."
She snatched the white pin from a photo of the newest body whose gender she couldn't decipher. "Hey, Jack. Is this victim male or female? I can't tell."
"Female this time," Jack said, pointing to the line that stated each victim's biological gender before pointing to the full list of victims.
Male.
Male.
Female.
Male.
Female.
Female
But Cyra's victims were primarily females with the first and last being a male.
It clicked.
That was what was bugging Saskia's consciousness.
The killer wasn't copying her work exactly, they were adapting it to fit their sadistic hatred for the people they believed were wrong. They adapted her work to make it personal, they saw themselves in Cyra's position. They felt betrayed by these people they chose.
"These…These people aren't randomly chosen if my theory is correct," Saskia repinned the photo where it was. "Cyra's victims were five females and two Males. Myra has ten males and three females. Lyra will have three males. They're not choosing the victim by their gender, they're doing it by how much they hate them."
"You're saying that these people were close to their killer?"
Will, who had been silently watching Saskia interact with the board, said, "She's saying that the killer believed they had a reason to kill them,"
Saskia did a stiff nod. "All the deaths in Sight are based on the fact that Cyra was betrayed or was misled by their appearance or actions. This person, they were either deceived by the victim's appearance or misdirected by them."
"Cyra, Myra, Lyra. Why do they all have similar names?"
"Spoilers," Saskia's smile faltered as Jack's grim face appeared in her line of sight. She rolled her eyes to the board. "They're triplets, they represent See No Evil, Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil. though I did swap the last two because Sight, Mouth, Listen, sounds better than Sight, Listen, Mouth."
"They, the triplets, they're never caught, are they?" Will said again.
"Well, our little literature thief isn't exactly following the script," Saskia gently bit the corner of her lip before allowing a grin to form. "We'll change the ending to our benefit instead of theirs."
Will turned to Saskia as she did too, he didn't look her in the eye but rather to her hairline. "We'll need the next book before it comes out."
"Digital or physical?"
"Both," Jack said as a precaution.
"I'll make some calls," Saskia muttered as she took her phone into her hands and dialled a number.
They found it quite strange that she didn't flinch when she looked at the pictures. Usually, when someone came in and saw the board that was full of pictures of dead, mangled bodies, they would at the very least avert their eyes from it. Saskia was perfectly happy to look at them, even touch the photos without the disgust any random person would have.
But Saskia Alasite was not random by any means.
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"ARGH!" Saskia gasped and slapped her palm against the island where she sat with her laptop in front of her. The pain was immediate and pulsed in time with her blood flow. She was trying to connect ideas between the books and the bodies found but she wasn't getting very far tonight. Lack of sleep would do that.
Countess gave her no attention on the couch, her furry body took up most of the space and became a dark blur because Saskia refused to put too much light on while she worked.
It wasn't even past five in the morning before Saskia's phone went off. She flinched at her desk before rubbing a hand across her hands and answering with a slight yawn. "Hello?"
"Saskia, it's Jack Crawford," He said, his voice almost devoid of all positive emotions. "We found the next body. Female, the skin on her back has been almost shredded."
"Okay. Can I come see it in person before it's moved?" Saskia leaned against the back of the chair, almost making it rock. "Has the blade been left?"
"Ah, yes," He said before rattling an address off and telling her to dress warmly in waterproof shoes.
Saskia sighed. She'd been awake since noon and believed she wouldn't fall asleep for a few more hours at least. Her attention had been on the links between the bodies found, Jack had sent her copies of the files, and how they linked to her books. Saskia had spent almost eight hours at Jack's office before he also went home, then Saskia spent another nine hours at home on her laptop.
Time sure flew when you were trying to find evidence to convict a killer before they kill again.
She really didn't want to leave Countess, or really Countess refused to let her go alone. After pulling a caramel coat on and finding her waterproof boots, Saskia grabbed Countess' leash if she needed it. Countess sent her dirty look but she knew that if it was requested, Countess would have to be leashed. She was a good dog, obedient and loyal, and she hated being leashed.
Her hair was flying behind her as she got out of the taxi and watched the parade of people in uniform around the area. It was mostly marsh wetland around her if Saskia remembered correctly, it would have been completely frozen if it hadn't been the middle of February instead of mid-winter.
She texted Jack that she was there and that they, being the officers around the parameter, refused to let her go in. With a flash of burnt orange, Freddie Lounds stood next to Saskia with a confused and wary tone in her eyes, her lips pursed.
"What are you doing here, Miss Alasite?"
"I might ask you the same thing," Saskia turned to the redhead with a passive look.
"Well, I'm a journalist. I need to have the best information and what better than the scene itself," Her smile was just as fake as her need to be rude was real. Her eyes raked down Saskia's form before landing on Countess. "And why would you bring a mutt to a place like this?"
Saskia stayed silent before raising an eyebrow with a look that would make her stand down. Countess growled deeply before also becoming silent.
"So?" Freddie started, expecting an answer from the duo. She should have known that Saskia wasn't going to answer if she didn't want to, Saskia might as well do a full-blown lie and Freddie would have believed her.
Saskia's eyes darkened and she turned to face the oncoming person, Hannibal, who waved a hand to the officers near her.
"Let her through,"
Freddie Lounds had thought he was referring to her so she smiled brightly before starting to walk. Saskia wanted to laugh when Lounds was stopped with a frown on her face.
"Not you, Miss Lounds," Hannibal said, an almost displeased look came over his face before turning to Saskia. "Jack sent me to get you while Will and he stayed at the scene. I see that Countess followed."
"Countess refused to let me leave alone," Saskia muttered when his eyes latched onto the dark form beside her. "Not since Samson's body was found."
"Protectiveness is one of the ways animals show us that they care," He smiled before tweaking one of Countess' ears. The dog pushed her head into his hand with a very doggy smile.
"Thank god Jack told me to wear boots." The ground had turned to mush and reached the bottom of her ankles when she stepped. Countess had a similar problem but she was graceful enough to only get it on her paws.
"I was surprised to hear that you requested to see the scene,"
"If I see how the scene is laid out, I can fully compare it to my work," Saskia said and then shrugged the coat closer to her when the wind blew a bit too cold against her neck. She smiled before saying, "I've seen two dead bodies, what's one more?"
Less than a minute later, Saskia pointed and muttered, "That's disgusting—"
As Jack had said, the woman's skin had been shredded. He forgot to mention that it was shredded to the bone on her cheeks. Cut at an angle, the slashes allowed the killer to pull the skin up and back, making a slight design of elegance. He did the same to the back, but the muscle had been stripped out and gone, leaving the back as a swirling design of bloody slashes that laced into a demented but beautiful picture. Each cut was thin but long, always pulled from the centre to tug the artwork into existence.
"—but oddly beautiful."
Saskia didn't dare touch the body and Countess stood far away enough from everyone, carefully watching the woman.
"This-this corpse belonged to someone who the killer cared about enough to make the killing beautiful," Saskia said, stuttering over the first few words when she yawned. She shook the sleep off before crouching down before the naked body which laid on her front with her face to the side.
"How can you tell?" Jack inquired as he turned to look at her next to the body.
"Hannibal, you were in medical school," Saskia pointed to the cuts, "Don't these look a little too clean to be made quickly?"
Hannibal leaned over her shoulder, refusing to crouch down. His eyes flickered over each edge of the cuts. "Perhaps. And the blade quality?"
The blade had been brand new by the sharpness of it but the cuts would have to be done slowly to actually have that clean of a cut.
"Search up any colleagues, friends, acquaintances. Check for grudges against her. Then compare them to the other victims," Saskia said, standing up fully. "You wouldn't make artwork out of just anyone you knew."
Saskia's bright eyes and smile unsettled Jack but he hid it well and forced her to see a Doctor Bloom before she could see any more bodies and the like.
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"Jack Crawford is just concerned about how these crime scenes could be affecting your mental state," Doctor Alana Bloom said, trying her best to sound sincere but Saskia didn't care if she was or not.
Saskia leaned forward in the chair across from Alana. "My mental state is fine."
"Jack said you were smiling at the scene,"
Saskia had, indeed, smiled. A bright smile that had deeply disturbed Jack. Saskia was aware of what she was doing, there wasn't a moment when she didn't. She controlled herself to an immaculate degree but she forgets that some people had a certain expectation of acceptable behaviour.
Society norms were boring.
Saskia scoffed. "I emotionally detached myself from the scene and the body. To me, it was just a corpse, nothing special or to be concerned about. I'm already desensitised to gore and the like. I already had a session with Hannibal Lecter after I found Samson and Liam in my house."
"Yes. Jack told me about that, he wanted to know how you were doing after that."
"I'm here, I'm fine, I'm not homicidal, and I just want to find this killer before my reputation as an author is ruined," Saskia said, allowing a false gentleness to appear in her posture. "I detached myself. I'm naturally quite a smiley person and I didn't know I was smiling after the scene. I thought we were a step closer to the end of this game of cat and mouse."
"Why would you describe it as a game?"
"Because the killer knows that we're on his trail, Freddie Lounds made sure of that on TattleCrimes,"
"Hm, she does find a way to get information,"
"But she hasn't figured out that I'm Syn, or she has but hasn't told anyone,"
"Why do you keep your identity a secret? Your books are very popular, why hide?"
"I'm a private person, Doctor Bloom, and it's hard for me to be actually telling you things," It was hard for Saskia because she had to be extra careful about what she said. Her words could be misunderstood quite easily otherwise. "But I'm trying to open up. I don't want to be known as the beautiful woman who wrote those murder mysteries. I want to be known for my work, not my appearance. You would understand, wouldn't you? You don't look a day older than thirty."
Flattery could and would get you places, and information.
Alana Bloom smiled warmly. "I'm thirty-three."
"I'm turning thirty in a few months," Saskia sighed, "Scary to think on how time flies. I remembered when I first published Murder With Miscreants: Sight. I never thought that someone would be inspired by my work to actually start killing, it's truly disgusting."
"That it is…"
If Saskia paid enough attention, she could see the exact moment that Doctor Alana Bloom finally believed what she said. It really wasn't that difficult to manipulate someone into believing you, you just needed to be patient and watch for subtle physical ques.
After spending an hour talking to Alana Bloom, Saskia was sure that the woman truly believed that Saskia was completely fine and would continue to be fine. However, Jack had asked that Saskia attend these appointments until the whole thing was over or when he was certain. He wanted to make sure that 'the scenes weren't having a bad effect' on her.
Saskia was quite happy with looking at the bodies and how the killer thought her work was worth. It was slightly surreal with how each body was demonstrated compared to what Saskia was imagining in her mind while she wrote. She was almost pleased with how detailed and exact each body was.
Saskia gladly agreed and had weekly sessions with the woman from then on. The talking turned from simply therapy to a good conversation between the two women. Saskia began to actually like talking to the woman but she was still guarded around her childhood and family. It was like having a friend that you knew couldn't betray you, unless Saskia was about to do something that would harm someone or herself.
She was not that stupid.
Saskia told Alana of the desire to speak to Freddie Lounds and create an article about the murders. Alana was happy that Saskia was confiding in her this desire, and asking her if this was the right thing to do. It would prevent the lies and mistruths Freddie Lounds would usually state.
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Saskia sat in a small cafe in the middle of a busy day while she waited for the woman to arrive. She fiddled with the cup's tiny handle while she people watched. A man was screaming at another because his 'so expensive shoes are now ruined!' because he stepped into a coffee spill. The waitress who was speaking to him told him to quieten down or leave, making him even angrier.
There was something familiar about the man but she couldn't see his face. Saskia rolled her eyes before ordering another coffee and scrolling through her social media.
"Sign," Saskia said as soon as Freddie sat in front of her. When Freddie warily looked at it, Saskia rolled her eyes. "It's a non-disclosure agreement, and the other allows me to control what you post about me."
"Why do I need to sign? Can't you trust me not to tell your secrets?"
"No," Saskia blinked as if it was obvious.
"Very well," The redhead said and signed with a sigh before passing them forward. "Tell me what is it about the new bodies found and Murder With Miscreants."
"And it means no recording devices," Saskia held her hand out, beckoning her to give the device over. "I see the notes you write before you leave."
"Fine. now tell me." Freddie leaned forward with her pen in hand as she twirled it between her fingers in anticipation.
"Syn, the author of the Murder With Miscreants Trilogy, is me," Saskia said and watched the woman's features slightly change. It would have been unseen to the untrained eye but Saskia saw it as clear as day. She was surprised yet intrigued. "And you can't put that in the article. I would like to keep my privacy and my identity a secret. Nor can you post any pictures of me."
"Alright. Why are you helping at the scenes? Have the FBI asked for your help because you wrote the books?"
"Yes. Jack Crawford has asked for my help when the fifth body turned up and still matched my book. He wasn't getting anywhere and wanted to know the actual thoughts that went through me when I wrote the books,"
"So you're not the killer doing this?" Freddie hummed.
"No, I'm not," Saskia licked her lips before rubbing them together in thought. "I'm just helping the FBI catch the killer because there will be almost two dozen victims otherwise."
"Are you helping because you feel responsible?"
Saskia found her little head tilt amusing. Freddie did it when she was getting into the information and truly believed what she heard, wanting to process it completely.
"No, my work is purely fiction. Just because someone decided to make it real isn't my fault, but I will help prevent the deaths if possible."
"How close are you to finding the killer?" Freddie folded her arms across her legs, crossing them at the knee as she leaned even more forward.
Saskia shook her head. "I can't disclose that information yet."
Freddie's forehead twitched in annoyance which made Saskia's lips pull up into a simper. "How many bodies have been found?"
"Six now," Saskia glanced across the cafe for a moment before bringing her eyes back to Freddie's courtesy ones. "There will be a body within the next week, not sure when but it will conclude the Sight victims."
"What about your newest book? Isn't it supposed to be released tomorrow?"
"Yes, I couldn't postpone it. I have given the FBI a copy early so they understand what is happening before the killer does,"
"How many will be killed in the book?"
"Can't disclose that until after it's published,"
"Alright. What will the focus on the newest book be?"
"How listening to rumours can land you in trouble. Not everything should be believed," Saskia gave her a careful look, one that made Freddie wary and sceptical. "Murder With Midcreants will end as a trilogy as I intended it to."
"Did you ever think your books would be used as inspiration for actual murders?"
"No, I didn't, or I would have made the details vague. I made them for pure enjoyment, a murder mystery was always one of my favourite things to read…"
The conversation went on for another hour before Freddie was satisfied and had Saskia look over her notes before leaving. Saskia sighed, at least Freddie wouldn't be bothering her anymore. If she wrote anything that wasn't to Saskia's satisfaction, Saskia had the right to have it brought down and have Freddie sued if she desired.
Saskia didn't like to outright lie, but she wasn't against using half-truths and twisting reality to fit her needs. She liked to tell the truth, even if it was only the tiniest bit true.
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