~~Carson's POV~~
We all went together to Anna's. The videographers, photographers, pathologists, forensics, and all other teams involved in analyzing the murder crime scene had done their jobs but the scene was still being preserved. Although the bodies were gone, one could easily visualize their last lying postures utilizing the areas marked aside with yellow tapes. Everything for analysis by the forensic teams was gone, and the crime scene cleanup crew had already erased blood stains; in other words, there was little to examine. But we were here, either way, hopefully, we'd spot something new.
Her father had the power to buy her the world if necessary yet her appliances, and interiors in general were not screaming luxury. I wondered why they went to such lengths to conceal her true identity.
With the light from my phone, I crouched to inspect beneath the sofas.
"Guys!" I heard Sawyer's voice echo amidst the silence. I stood up straight and faced him.
He was standing, staring at the bloody inscription on the wall: "Deep Ocean Blue Eyes." To hear what he had to say, I and Griffin closed in on him.
"Why do you think he needs a bloody writing on the wall?"
"I think he wants to be remembered," Griffin started. "He has a burning desire to etch into peoples' minds a dread for blue eyes. Like something he wants to make them crumble before," he theorized further.
"Let's take Daniil for example. He doesn't have blue eyes yet he uses contacts to orchestrate evil. Why's that? Why go to such lengths for that? And why would he try to etch dread and terror into their minds like that? Psychopaths usually have motives, right?" He asked lastly, veering to me.
I nodded simply.
"Why does he need to leave one traumatized and the other one dead?" He asked again.
"I think Griffin has a point," I finally spoke up, addressing them both. "Psychopaths love attention."
"Fucking exhibitionists," Griff cut in mildly.
"They always want to be feared and remembered for something. They could commit seamless crimes without trails or leads, but their M.O. always speaks for them," I explained, looking up at the bloody note.
In silence, we observed the painting meticulously like it was the first time being up close.
"Hol'up!" Griffin spoke up and moved closer to it with his back against us. "What was used for this again?" he asked, trailing his fingers through its bold letters.
"What was used for what?" Sawyer questioned.
"What was used to write this? Not possibly his fingers, could it? The handwriting appears perfect to me."
Come to think of it, no serious attention was paid to that. With my thinking cap then on, I erased our distance and stood beside him instead.
"You think he used a paintbrush?" Tracing the letter 'D' with four of my fingers wasn't enough to perfect the lines.
"The writing's flawless. He couldn't have done this with his fingers only."
"A perfectionist, I see," I chimed in, mostly to myself.
"I see your point," Sawyer concurred in hushed tones. "I guess there's one more thing to look for. His clothes, his shoes, the paintbrush, and lastly, the murder weapon."
"They were different," I blurted in gentle whispers.
"Pardon?"
I veered to my right to find both of them staring at me this time.
"The murder weapons," I clarified and moved further away from the wall into the living room. They followed suit.
"Does that change anything?" queried Sawyer.
"The knife he used in Makayla's case was around 3.5 inches long, generally narrow and with a pointed tip. And according to the pathologists, Makayla's stab wounds were pretty shallow. There wasn't one intended to hit the final blow. Instead, she died of excessive blood loss. Whereas in Anna's case, he used a knife over five inches long. Every stab was at crucial spots meant to kill her slowly but definitely. And even after everything like he was just playing around with her, there was the final blow somewhere around her neck. That was what killed her completely. It was as if he knew just what would do the job, but chose to make her go through needless excruciating pain," I analyzed, taking successive glances on the lookout for a reaction. Just in case you may be wondering, this was just me sharing my thoughts after going through the case files again yesterday.
"The killer bears grudges against his victims," Sawyer voiced.
"The multiple stab injuries suggest so," I reaffirmed. There were numerous other methods to execute a murder but he chose the most agonizing one yet like he bore hard feelings towards his victims.
"Going by your reasoning, he gave Makayla a chance to survive?"
"A very slim chance. Like he didn't intend to kill her but didn't have any choice to," I pointed out in addition.
"Why is that?" he muttered to himself.
"But if that's the case, he could've easily gone with a different method," Griffin interposed.
"Serial killers usually have a particular M.O. Going by another isn't as easy; they need to leave a hallmark."
"Okay, this is crazy."
"So are you trying to say he bore little or no grudge towards Makayla but could not alter his M.O. solely for her?" Sawyer reasoned.
"Exactly!" I said affirmatively.
"Fuck it! He's a total jerk if so." He cussed.
"Guess what?"
"What?" they chorused.
"There were even traces of CO2 in Anna's system. You know what that means, right?"
"The WASP injector knife?" Sawyer chimed in. I nodded repeatedly.
"So she was definitely gonna die no matter what happened," Griffin concluded, catching on.
"One thing is certain. The killer is good with knives. And knows a ton about the human anatomy," I added.
"But wouldn't a medical student fit the portfolio? Daniil isn't even a science student."
"Psychopaths have insanely high IQs. They put little or no effort into being the best. They do not need a particular field of discipline to excel in this," Griffin stated precisely. "But what I don't seem to understand is the connection between the two. Do victims of serial killer cases not usually have some sort of connection? Like a common criterion or sum'n."
"We need to find that right here and now! Let's comb through the rooms for anything. Pictures, notes, anything!" I said then we all turned around ready to search the rooms when a call came to my phone. "Hold on a sec," I excused to take the call.
They watched patiently until I was off the phone.
"It's the chief. He says all divisions in the homicide and violent crimes units need to report to the headquarters for a meeting," I informed and got them sighing. It's a shame I had to extinguish the fired-up spirits.
We had no choice but to end our search for the day. But we were sure to return and continue from where we stopped. Thanks to our brainstorming, new theories were established and it was only going to be a matter of time to catch the culprit, I hoped.