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know that this is a big case, Skip, but what’s this got to do with me?”
    “Look, this is a tough spot for everyone, but as in all things, the mayor has to look like he’s doing something. I read your report on the incident as well as your call log from your last shift.”
    Jim could feel dryness and tightening in his throat as he listened, only catching fragments of speech in between the emotional gongs that were going off between his ears:
    “Failure to respond…”
    “Dereliction of duty…”
    “Temporary suspension pending further investigation…”
    They were phrases Jim never thought he would hear applied to him. Captain Jones could see the growing disbelief on Jim’s face.
    “Look, I know that this is hard on you and under any other circumstances, no one would even say a word about the car alarm. But this is a big case and someone has to take one for the team. I’ll make sure you get full pay, we’ll do a cursory investigation, and it will all go away. I got to be honest, Jovian. In the short term, it won’t be pleasant. You’re a good cop, but I’m sorry.”
    Captain Jones reached out a hand.
    They made eye contact and Jim stopped short of a handshake. He could sense what was next.
    “You know how this goes. I need your gun and badge.”
    Insult to injury. The pit in his stomach exploded in a burst of bile that rose in his throat. Jim fought down the rage and urge to puke. He took a deep breath and nodded his head, like he understood or even agreed with the disciplinary action. Jim had seen that cliché move on television a thousand times; he could not believe it was happening to him. He handed over his badge and gun with dignity and turned to leave the room. He walked slowly to his desk and sat down; he wasn’t sure if he could move his legs.
     
    Day 2: 12:23 a.m.
    He left the zoo as if he had not a care in the world, as though it was a Sunday afternoon in July and he was a man going to retrieve his car from a distant lot to bring it around to pick up the wife and kids. Kids. Jeanette had kids; they would miss their mother. It gave him pause, but then he thought, ah, they would adapt. After all, he didn’t have a mother any more and he was doing just fine. Right?
    He sighed in satisfaction. Jeanette had been much easier than the queer. She was half the weight, and easier to handle. He learned from his first foray into murder that you need to tie your prey’s hands behind the back, not in front. This time, he did not need attach a rope to his truck in order to hang a man from a tree branch twenty feet above his head; he merely needed to hold the lady’s head under water for a minute or two. She didn’t put up much of a fight for such a fit and determined woman. And the gargling noises as the last breath left her body gave him a tingle down his spine. For a moment, he wished that he had more time, that he had started this work years ago.
    Death could be such a beautiful thing.
    But now he had to sleep; he had to step back and watch his drama play out on the television and in the newspaper. They wouldn’t connect her to Artridge, in spite of his hints, at least not yet. He guessed that they would start to put it all together after the next one. And he had that one all scoped out. He eased his truck into drive and left the parking lot.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Three: The Cackle of Crazy
     
    Day 2: 12:26 a.m.
     
    Shell shocked, like he just survived a bombing raid while hiding in a tin roof house, Jim sat at his desk and put the last of his affairs in order. He had to take another deep breath to settle his nerves before he finished typing. He had realized that his original report did not contain the information about the carving found on the murder tree, so he knew he had to add that to the supplemental report. He was anything if not thorough. Like most officers, he could either type a report on the computers or record