Lilith: a novel (6 page)

On the way out, he asked, “Oh, what is your fiancé’s name?”

Lorelei arched her back and sat upright in her chair.

“You aren’t going to contact him, too, are you?”

“That shouldn't be necessary, Ms. Monroe. But we need to cover all the bases. I’m sure you understand.”

“His name is Dr. Ryan Gaines,” Lorelei said tersely. “You can find him in all the Columbus dental directories.”

Alan nodded. “Thank you again. We’ll let you get back to work now. We appreciate your taking time to talk to us.”

As soon as they were in the Explorer, Maribel asked: “What do you think?”

“I think that Lorelei Monroe had absolutely no idea that her photos were being used to lure men to their deaths. I think that she was genuinely shocked and horrified.”

“That was my impression, too. Right from the get-go. So Lorelei isn’t Lilith.”

“Lorelei isn’t Lilith.”

“But what about the other, more likely possibility. Do you think that the killer knows her? Or has some connection to her?”

Alan paused to consider this. Once again, he thought of his daughters: He did not spy on Frances and Emily, but the girls were still teenagers, and he did occasionally take stock of what they were doing on Facebook and other social media sites.

He had noticed that both of his daughters had hundreds of Facebook “friends”. Emily’s friend list exceeded eight hundred.

It had seemed to Alan that no one could actually have eight hundred friends; but in the online world, the power of networking brought people into brief and tenuous contact with hundreds, sometimes thousands of strangers. Emily reported that some of her classmates had more than a thousand Facebook friends.

At the time of the father-daughter discussion about the often indiscriminate and random nature of Facebook friending, Alan had merely shaken his head at it all; but now he thought of it again. If Lilith had found Lorelei’s photos on Facebook, then there might be no real connection between them at all.

“They might not even be Facebook friends,” Alan said. “Her profile seems to be public, with no real restrictions on who can view it. We had no trouble accessing it from the office, after all. And you know how the Internet works. People go on social media sites, and they click from one link to the other, and they randomly end up in different locations—virtual people-watching, if you will.”

“Maybe, but there is still a strong chance that the killer found Lorelei’s photos by doing a
local
search. So the connection is probably there, even if Lilith and Lorelei aren’t formally connected in any way on Facebook. The killer clearly visited her profile.”

“Along with a thousand other people,” Alan said. “And you heard what Dave said about the killer using public WiFis and untraceable devices. So it would be a long-shot and a needle in a haystack, at best.”

“We had to check it out, Alan.”

Alan put the Explorer in gear and backed out of their parking space. “Yes, we did. But it doesn't seem to have gotten us any closer to finding out who Lilith is.”

Dave pushed out from behind his cubicle when he heard them walk in.

“How did the interview with Lorelei Monroe go?”

“It was a dead end,” Alan said.

“Lorelei isn’t Lilith?” Dave asked.

“Lorelei isn’t Lilith.”

“And she doesn't have any idea who Lilith might be?”

“No.”

“Did you believe her?”

“Yes, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Dave sighed. “Well, we didn't really expect it to be that easy, did we?”

“No. They almost never are.”

But nor were they usually this slippery. There was usually some thread to grab hold of, even if it was a small thread.

During the return drive from Columbus, Alan had thought about the evidence they had from every angle; and he was convinced that so far, they had next to nothing of real value.

“Oh,” Dave said. “Lieutenant Seeger dropped by while you two were gone.”

“Let me guess: He wants an update.”

“He wants an update.”

Alan let out a long breath of air. “Okay, I’ll give him a call this afternoon, if he doesn't stop back before then.”

“The lieutenant indicated that he was going to stop back yet this morning. Apparently the attorney general has taken an active interest in these homicides, and she has some ideas.”

Alan did not miss Dave’s tone of irony. Maribel smirked.

Martha Cowler was the state’s attorney general. As such she represented the very top of the ODCI organizational chart. She also had a reputation for being an armchair sleuth who double-guessed the men and women in the ranks.

“I’ll deal with Lt. Seeger when he comes by.”

Maribel said, “You might remind Lt. Seeger that we were assigned responsibility for this case less than forty-eight hours ago.”

“That won’t make any difference—either to the lieutenant or to the attorney general. Anyway, I’ll handle it.”

“Speak of the devil,” Dave said, at a barely audible volume. He abruptly looked over Alan’s shoulder.

It was the lieutenant. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Dave that he’d check back.

“Hello, LT,” Alan said.

Lt. Seeger nodded. “Detective.”

Lt. Seeger was in his early fifties. Unlike Alan, Dave, and Maribel, who were in plainclothes, the lieutenant was in uniform. The lieutenant was always in uniform, even though his position would have allowed him to wear civilian attire.

Like Alan, Lt. Seeger had done time in the military before pursuing a career in law enforcement. Unlike Alan, the lieutenant still clung to the formalities and awe of hierarchy that were gospel in the military.

Alan knew all about hierarchy, both in military and in civilian life. In the army, there had been politics, of course. But the inflexibility of the military system meant that you didn't question the brass—especially if you were an enlisted man, as Alan had been.

Civilian law enforcement was far murkier. In civilian law enforcement, you answered to a combination of law enforcement professionals, elected officials, and civilian appointees—who were always politically connected and politically motivated.

Politicians and political appointees weren’t necessarily malicious. But they seldom understood the full implications of the decisions that their positions entitled them to make. For this reason, it was simply impossible for Alan to regard them with the respect that he had generally accorded, say, a full-bird colonel in the U.S. army.

“I’ve been told that you stopped by for an update, LT.”

“Affirmative. And I’m not the only one. This case has suddenly jumped onto the front burner. The attorney general herself has taken an active interest in it.”

“We did receive jurisdiction over this investigation less than forty-eight hours ago.”

The lieutenant nodded and punctuated the gesture with a grunt. He didn't have to tell Alan that this fact was fundamentally immaterial. The first hours out of the gate were crucial in any homicide investigation. Moreover, the powers-that-be had no sense of the scant timeframe in which the ODCI had been working. As far as the attorney general was concerned, the Lilith investigation was as old as the first murder, which had been committed in Columbus weeks ago. So why the hell didn't they have any concrete progress to report?

“I understand that your team just got this case, and that you’ve been working hard,” Seeger allowed. “And I know you’ll keep me updated.”

“I will,” Alan affirmed.

“Anyway, the attorney general thinks we should go public with this case now.”

“You’re talking about a press conference?”

“Martha Cowler thinks we need to get the word out to the public. The killer is luring Ohio men who use these dating sites. So if we get the word out, at least some of them will be warier when they’re meeting women who might fit the profile that ‘Lilith’ has established. There is a certain logic to it.”

Alan was taken aback. He had anticipated pressure for an update, pressure for progress, but he had not anticipated this.

A press conference at this point in the investigation could change everything. The killer was aware of the pattern that had been established, of course; but the killer might not infer that state law enforcement was treating the three separate homicides as one investigation. After all, the killer had so far had the foresight to move around, striking first in Columbus, then in Dayton, and now in Cincinnati.

Alan, like most cops, was of the belief that law enforcement should never tip its hand unless there was something of greater value to be gained by doing so. He didn't believe that Lilith’s potential victims would profit much from the warning.

If the killer had been a man taking women, then, yes, there might be some rationale for a public warning. At least some women would listen.

But men weren’t like that. In an online dating environment, they would be focused on their own, nonlethal hunts, as surely as Lilith would be focused on hunting them.

“I think that’s a bad idea”, Alan said, “for several reasons. First of all, the men who use these dating sites aren’t going to start doing background checks on women before they go on dates with them. Most men would regard that as a distinctly unmasculine move. Or to put it another way, they’re more concerned about impressing women than keeping themselves safe.”

“They might not go so far as to ask for background checks,” Seeger allowed. “But at least they’ll be careful if they’re approached by any dark-haired woman named Lilly or Lilith.”

“No. Going public about the specifics of Lilith’s current profile could actually make the killer more difficult to catch, thereby endangering more men.”

The lieutenant gave Alan a dubious look. He probably thought that Alan was mincing logic because he resented the interference from the attorney general’s office.

“How so, detective?”

“Right now we have absolutely no idea who Lilith might actually be. Lilith could be a man, a man working with several women, or several women working together, for all we know. If we go public and tell men in this state to beware of dark-haired women named Lilith, it’s quite possible that Lilith will simply become a blonde named Barbara, or a redhead named Allison.”

“Well,” Seeger challenged, “If I can hold off the press conference, how long will you need to take down Lilith?”

“We’re just getting started,” Alan admitted.

“And how is it coming so far?”

Despite his dislike of Martha Cowler’s interference, Alan could not give his superior a misleading report. That was a habit he had never allowed himself, and he knew that half-truths and prevarications could come back to bite him later.

“We’ve pursued some initial leads and possibilities, based mainly on the electronic evidence. There was nothing at the crime scene. Lilith left Robert Billings’ house spotless, from an evidential perspective. But we’re going to regroup with a new plan. Trust us, lieutenant, we’re going to take Lilith down. But I can’t give a press conference and tip our hand.”

The lieutenant sighed. “All right, detectives. I’ll run interference with the attorney general’s office for now. But I need to see results. I need updates.”

“You’ll have them,” Alan promised.

“All right then,” Lt. Seeger turned to go.

“Thanks, LT,” Alan said.

“Thank me by catching Lilith,” Seeger said, on his way out.

“So now what?” Dave said, after waiting enough time so that he could be sure Lt. Seeger would be out of earshot.

Alan looked to Maribel and then to Dave.

“Okay,” he began. “Let’s assess where we are at this point. Lilith—whoever Lilith is—is relying heavily on computers. Ideally, Lilith would have left an electronic trail. But it isn’t going to work out like that.”

Alan paused to reflect on all of the bulk electronic data that the NSA and other government agencies were accumulating—all in the hope that it would provide the stray clues that would prevent the next 9/11 or other major terrorist attack. But the gathering of all this data was a mixed blessing. The smart terrorists would simply add another layer of obfuscation—much as Lilith had done. And whoever Lilith might be, Alan was reasonably sure that Lilith wouldn't turn out to be a branch of al-Qaeda.

“We aren’t going to catch Lilith at the keyboard,” Alan continued. “In order to catch Lilith, we’re going to have to engage in some old-fashioned police work. We’re going to have to identify suspects and talk to them. And if we do our jobs right, that process will eventually lead us to Lilith.”

“Back to gumshoe basics,” Maribel said.

“Back to gumshoe basics,” Alan affirmed.

Alan noticed the slightest hint of a smirk play on Dave’s face, but the junior detective said nothing. This was a familiar, though reasonably subdued point of contention between Alan and Dave.

As law enforcement personnel went, Dave was not a very physically fit individual; but he was a wizard with computers. Dave therefore tried to fit every crime into a structure that could eventually be solved by the right algorithm or the right Internet search.

Alan, on the other hand, was almost hyperactively physical. While Alan acknowledged the usefulness of computers, he believed that law enforcement—not to mention society-at-large—had become too enamored with the Internet and its associated gadgetry.  

“So how to we apply ‘gumshoe basics’ to catch Lilith?” Dave interjected.

“We begin with a simple question,” Alan replied. “Where does Lilith hunt?”

“On dating sites.”

“So we turn the tables and hunt Lilith on the dating sites.”

“Isn’t that exactly what we’ve been doing?”

“Yes—and no. We’ve been focused on tracking Lilith’s electronic trail—not on tracking Lilith.”

Dave said nothing.

“What we need to do,” Alan said, “is put some human bait out there. We’ll run it like a narcotics enforcement team would run a drug bust.”

“But instead of posing like drug buyers—” Maribel said.

“We’re going to pose like a lovelorn man on a dating site. We already know exactly what kind of target Lilith goes for—she likes slightly overweight men in their thirties, men who, for lack of a better word, would be conventionally described as ‘nerdy’.”

Alan almost involuntarily glanced at Dave. Then he noticed that Maribel’s eyes had been drawn to Dave as well.

“Hey!” Dave objected. “Don’t look at me!”

Maribel chuckled.

“I would gladly do it myself,” Alan said. “But I’m about ten years older than Lilith’s victims thus far. And I don’t really fit the—profile.”

“And you’re saying that I do?”

Maribel laughed again. Dave’s cheeks visibly reddened.

“Face it, Dave: you’re a natural for this one. I know that you’ve never gone undercover before—”

This was true, even though Dave had been in law enforcement for the better part of a decade. The ODCI was roughly divided into analysts and field agents. Dave was clearly an analyst.

Although these classifications were not rigid, analysts seldom went on undercover operations. But there was no explicit rule that prohibited them from doing so.

“So my first time undercover is going to involve time alone with a serial killer, is that it?”

“You’ll have to spend some time alone with Lilith—and probably many suspects who will turn out not to be Lilith. But only in public places, Dave. And only with lots of backup. No one is going to throw you to the wolves.”

Dave sighed, resigned.

“You’ll still be in charge of the computer end of this operation,” Alan added. “That aspect of the case will remain essential. But I don’t think we’re going to catch Lilith without actually meeting her.”

“Without
me
actually meeting her, you mean.”

“You’ll be perfectly safe. She only kills in the victims’ private residences. You’ll only be meeting with her in public.”

“Aw man, I’m going to be bait.” But Dave’s turn was upbeat now, and laced with a bit of bravado. He had apparently remembered that Maribel was present, and he was trying to recover.

“And you know so much about online dating.” Alan could not resist the barb.

“I do not.”

Maribel chuckled again.

“Do what you need to do as far as the budget is concerned. You can use the group’s credit card to set up profiles on any dating sites that charge fees for male members.”

“I’m on it,” Dave said.

“And give this a chance, Dave. You might just find that you’re a natural.”