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couldn’t explain, he thought of Jackson Pollock, an artist who spattered paint on a canvas to create remarkable works of art that seemed bigger than life. Now, seeing it in blood, breathing the horror and stench into his lungs, he wondered if Baylor was trying to make some sort of demented statement.
    A thought buoyed to the surface, then sunk back under before Matt could reach it. The idea felt like it might be important, and he realized that he needed to take a deep breath and settle down.
    He remembered the crime-scene photograph Doyle had shown him in Los Angeles and moved closer to the pools of blood. A table and lamp had been dragged across the landing and pushed against the stair railing. Matt understood at a glance that Baylor had chosen this spot to stage the murders. But like Brown had said just ten minutes ago, the question was why? Why in a house this big did the doctor want to murder this family on a second-floor landing?
    There had to be a reason, a purpose. With Dr. Baylor there was always a reason and a purpose.
    Matt stepped closer and knelt down, panning his flashlight across the wall. There were three holes in the plaster about two feet off the ground. These would’ve been made by crime-scene techs as they removed the slugs and entered them as evidence. Matt thought about that photograph again. Stratton’s corpse, along with his two daughters’, had been found leaning against the wall, with their clothing removed and holding hands. Stratton’s naked wife had been laid out on the floor directly before them with her legs spread open. Her thirteen-year-old son was draped over her body as if they had been making love.
    Their genitals were touching. The photograph may have been dark and shot from a distance to take in the entire crime scene, but Matt could still see it. Still picture it. And then that stray thought buoyed to the surface again, and this time Matt seized it.
    If Baylor had been trying to make a statement, it seemed forced. It felt like he was straining. Obviously Baylor’s condition had deteriorated over the past month and a half and he’d lost control of himself. He was no longer just a serial killer, but had graduated and become a mass killer. He’d unlocked the door to his demons, and on the night of the murders, they all came running out.
    But that still didn’t explain why there was so much blood on the walls, nor did it even come close to answering the key question.
    Why did Baylor choose to kill these people here on a landing instead of a bedroom? Given the obvious sexual nature of the killings, the crime would seem to have been better orchestrated on a bed.
    Why here?
    Matt stood up and stepped through the doorway into the master bedroom suite. Like the first floor, fingerprint powder coated every object in the room. But the bed was neatly made, nothing had been disturbed or appeared out of place, and Matt didn’t see a single drop of blood. He entered the bathroom, shined his flashlight in the shower and tub, then passed through two dressing rooms and a study and out a second door onto the landing. When he noticed a door at the base of the stairs to the third floor, he swung it open and found what he thought might be a room dedicated to yoga and meditation.
    He took the stairs to the third floor two at a time and made a quick inspection of each room; three were bedrooms for the Strattons’ children while the fourth had been turned into a rec room for watching TV and playing video games. The tubs and showers in the bathrooms were clean. Except for the fingerprint powder, nothing appeared to be out of order anywhere on the floor, and he didn’t see a single drop of blood.
    So why the landing? Why do it on a carpet and hardwood floor when a king-sized mattress was right through the door in the Strattons’ bedroom?
    Matt returned to the second floor. There was a window beside the meditation room, and he could see Brown in the car talking to someone on her cell phone. On the