Professor John Locke had spent all morning answering questions from the police about his student, Joseph Miles.
‘You say he was obsessed with serial killers? How could you tell? I mean, this is a course about serial killers. One could say the same thing about you or anyone else who attends your class.’ Detective Montgomery was a large, athletic looking black man with a short Afro and sideburns. He wore a midlength leather coat and dark sunglasses that he had a habit of tilting down to the tip of his nose when he spoke so he could look over the top of them directly into your eyes. He looked like something from a seventies blaxploitation film, a poor man’s Shaft. His eyes were deadly serious, though, and he spoke in clear, crisp tones like a newscaster or a politician and not the slang drawl you would have expected looking at his haircut.
His partner was a middle-aged Spanish looking guy who wore a pin-striped suit that looked like someone had fried a hamburger on it. What hair remained on his balding cranium was pulled back into a ponytail barely the length of a thumb. He looked more like a mafioso than a cop. He didn’t shake hands or introduce himself when they walked in but immediately walked over to the bookcases on the wall and began scanning the titles.
Professor Locke followed the greasy looking detective with his eyes while he answered Detective Montgomery’s questions.
‘So what made this kid any different from the rest of you?’ the detective continued.
‘Joseph took it all very personal. Whenever you suggested that these people were just crazy or evil he became very defensive, even hostile. He had a theory that there was a virus that creates signature sex murderers.’
‘And what did you think of that?’
‘It’s ridiculous. But I didn’t want to discourage the boy so I told him to continue researching it and if he could find proof of his theory I’d give him an A for the year.’
‘Perhaps he was doing research when he killed that librarian?’ Detective Volario asked, seeming to take interest in the conversation for the first time. The professor glared at him and shook his head in annoyance as if he were speaking to an ignorant and petulant child.
‘That’s a rather extreme supposition. People don’t kill to get good grades. They kill because of severe psychological problems.’
“You mean he’s crazy?’
‘Not legally, no. At least, there’s no way I could know that without testing him. But even if he’s innocent, and please remember that he very well may be, I still wouldn’t turn my back on him. He’s got a lot of problems.’
‘You act like we’re planning on lynching him or something,’ Detective Volario said with a sneer. He was holding a large volume titled A Criminal History of Mankind. ‘You read all these books, Professor?’
‘No other reason to have them,’ Professor Locke replied.
‘I guess it’s no wonder that you attracted one of these monsters to you then.’
The professor ignored him. ‘Do you have any other questions, Detectives?’
‘Just one more. Did you do any experiments to test out his theory, that he had some kind of serial killer virus?’
‘No. If he had come to me with a more apodictic theory I would have given it more credibility, but what he was proposing was just plain ludicrous.’
‘Apodictic? What does that mean? I dropped out of college, Professor. You’re going to have to speak a little more simplistic for me.’
Professor Locke crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. ‘It means demonstrably true.’
‘Yet he claimed to be the living proof of the theory?’
‘But at the time I didn’t know he was talking about himself. I assumed it was just general speculation.’
Detective Montgomery stepped closer to the professor until his breath was in the man’s face. ‘That’s funny, Professor, because all the students we spoke to said it was quite clear that he was referring to himself when he spoke about this virus theory. Even you said he took it all very personal. So you didn’t bother to do any research at all to see if maybe he was suffering from some curable illness? You didn’t bother to contact the police or even a psychiatrist or a virologist? I mean, you’re a prominent criminologist, a psychologist, a former FBI profiler who’s worked on dozens of cases. If you had called us up and told us you had a student in your class that you suspected might be a killer we would have taken it seriously.’
‘But how the hell could I have known for sure?’
‘It was your job to know. That’s how you made your living when you were with the FBI, right? Telling all us ignorant locals how to spot killers? Yet, you let one sit right in front of you every day without saying a peep to anyone and without trying to get him any help. You just let him get sicker and sicker until he eventually murdered someone?’
‘You don’t know that it was him.’
‘But you do. Don’t you? I can see it all over your face. You know it was him. You know you fucked up. And right now you’re probably thinking of how this fuckup is going to affect your reputation and your career.’
Detective Volario stepped up beside his partner. ‘My partner’s right. You fucked up big time. If I was you, I’d do everything I could to help us catch this guy and restore your reputation before this gets out. ‘killer Student of Noted FBI Profiler.’ That’s a headline you don’t want.’
‘I’ve got an apodictic theory, Professor. I believe this student of yours is going to kill a lot more people.’
Detective Volario picked up a book from the shelves. The title on the spine was the same as the title of the course, Abnormal Psychiatry: Serial killers and Why They Do It.
‘Is this your book? It has your name on it. You wrote this, right?’
‘Yes, I wrote it.’
‘Wow. I bet this is really going to fuck up your sales.’
The professor opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out but a helpless squeak. The detectives scowled contemptuously and shook their heads in disgust before turning their backs on him and walking out the door, dropping their cards on his desk as they exited. The detectives had just left when the phone rang. Professor Locke didn’t recognize the voice immediately.
‘Professor Locke?’
‘Yes, and who am I speaking to?’
‘It’s true! My theory is true!’
‘Who is this, please?’
‘It’s me, Joseph. Joseph Miles. Your student? Remember I had a theory that serial killers suffer from a transmittable disease like lycanthropy?’
‘Do you realize that you are the prime suspect in a murder, Joseph? The police are looking for you in connection with the death of the campus librarian. They found her body in an apartment building downtown after it burned to the ground. There are witnesses who say that you lived there. The cops have been all over campus interviewing students who say you were obsessed with vampirism and cannibalism. Apparently the victim was mutilated or disfigured in some way that further links her to you. Your picture has been in the newspaper. They’re convinced that you did it.’
‘I know, I know. But listen, I think we’re really onto something here!’
‘We? I want no part of this. I’m calling the police as soon as you hang up!’
‘You don’t understand, Professor. I’m sick! I contracted this disease when I was a kid. I was kidnapped by a child killer and I survived. Only, he passed his curse to me. Now I’ve passed it on to someone else!’ His rambling sounded almost delighted.
‘What are you talking about, Joseph? Where are you? You need to turn yourself in.’
‘I can’t. Don’t you see? If I’m right and the disease is transmittable then there’s a cure and I think I’ve found it!’
‘Joseph, you are sick.’
‘Professor, you have to listen to me. There’s this girl that-I-bit-‘
‘You bit someone! Oh my God, Joseph!’
‘Yeah, but I didn’t kill her. Anyway, last night she took a bite of human flesh and loved it! She has the hunger now just like me! I passed on the virus. That proves my theory! Which means that all I have to do is track it back to the original host, the carrier, and I can put an end to it for good. I can cure us both and probably others that he’s infected.’
‘Listen, Joseph, the fact that your girlfriend took a bite out of someone and got off on it is not proof of a virus but only proof that you’ve passed your fantasy to someone else and probably screwed this girl’s head up pretty badly. She identifies with you so she’s sharing your delusion. It’s a common occurrence in killers. Many of them work in pairs, from Leopold and Loeb to the Hillside Stranglers and even Bonnie and Clyde. There’ve been many cases of serial killers using their wives or girlfriends to lure prey. They feel helpless and trapped and so they begin to side with their abuser, to identify with them, even going so far as becoming their accomplices in future murders. It’s a defense mechanism, nothing more. Gary Heidnick used a girl to lure other girls to his basement to be tortured, raped, and murdered. Without him she’d have never harmed anyone and once he was locked up she never hurt anyone again. Joseph? Joseph, are you still there?’
The solemn whine of the dial tone abraded his eardrums. He slowly lowered the phone back into its cradle, then picked it up again and dialed the Centers for Disease Control. He had some research to do.
