“No, Your Honor.”

“Overruled. You’re deemed to have a continuing objection to all similar exhibits. You don’t have to object every time the novel is mentioned. Go on, Miss Wallace.”

When Agent Booth was finished testifying about other scenes in Joshua Maxfield’s book that were similar to the real crimes, Delilah turned her over to Eric Swoboda.

“Agent Booth, you testified that the police organizations that investigated the crimes in places like Montana, Oregon, and Connecticut kept certain information secret.”

“Yes.”

“These are big organizations, are they not?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever heard of information that was supposed to be secret leaking from big police organizations?”

“Yes.”

“There would be many people at a crime scene who would learn about a killer eating a snack during the commission of his crime, would there not?”

“There could be.”

“Any one of these people could make this secret information public?”

“Yes.”

“Agent Booth, are the crimes about which you’ve just testified the only ones of which you are aware in which the perpetrator used duct tape to bind a victim?”

“No.”

“Isn’t the use of duct tape common in crimes where a victim is tied up?”

“Duct tape is used by criminals.”

“As part of your duties with VICAP or out of a personal preference, do you read fictional books about make-believe serial killers?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever read a novel that had a plot that mirrored aspects of a real case?”

“Yes.”

“And there are many true-crime books about real serial killers, aren’t there?”

“Yes.”

“And these true-crime books describe in great detail how serial killers operate?”

“Yes.”

“Novelists use their imagination to make a living, don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“And they do research? They read about real serial killers to make their characters come alive?”

“I suppose so.”

“And novelists who write about serial killers would naturally develop ideas about how to kill someone or how a killer might act that might be very close to the way a real murderer might act?”

“I suppose so.”

“Are you aware of novels involving serial killers where the killer uses duct tape to bind his fictional victims?”

“Yes.”

“Agent Booth, you admitted that novelists frequently research real cases to make their fictional stories more believable, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Has any author ever contacted VICAP to get background for a made-up story about a serial killer?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know if Mr. Maxfield ever spoke with someone at VICAP or an FBI agent in another division or a police officer or a detective about serial killers for background?”

“He never spoke to me.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I have no knowledge one way or the other about the defendant talking to someone at the FBI or other law enforcement officers about his book.”

“Now, I believe that you testified that the duct tape in all of the cases came from the same manufacturer.”

“Yes.”

“How many rolls of this duct tape does the manufacturer make every year?”

“I don’t have the exact figures with me.”

“Is it safe to say that the company manufactures a lot of duct tape every year?”

“Yes.”

“Thousands of rolls?”

“Probably.”

“And these rolls are distributed nationally?”

“Yes.”

“So it’s quite possible that a murderer in Michigan and another totally unconnected murderer in Arizona could have purchased rolls from the same company?”

Agent Booth glanced toward Delilah before answering, and received a brief smile. Booth looked back at Swoboda.

“That is correct.”

“When you began your testimony you stated that the FBI had identified murders in several states that-and I quote-‘may be the work of the same serial killer’-unquote. That’s correct, isn’t it?”

“I believe so.”

“Why did you say ‘may be the work’? Why weren’t you more positive?”

“The evidence points to the same person committing the murders, but we can’t say that this is a fact with one hundred percent certainty until the person confesses.”

“Are there dissimilarities between some of the murders?”

Agent Booth glanced at Delilah, who kept her face blank.

“Did you understand my question, Agent Booth?”

“There were indications in the Connecticut and Montana cases that more than one person may have been in the home when the murders occurred.”

“There were two killers?” Swoboda asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide his surprise.

“The perpetrator of these two crimes may have had an accomplice, but we could never be certain. In all other respects, the modus operandi in all of the crimes I mentioned was consistent with a single murderer having committed all of the murders.”

“But if there were two killers involved in two of the crimes and only one killer in the other crimes, we might be dealing with unrelated homicides, right?”

“That is one possibility.”

“If that’s true then we’d have a situation where one person independently committed a crime that was almost identical to a crime committed by two other people, right?”

“Yes.”

“And that would make it less amazing if a third person-a writer, say-also thought up a make-believe plot with a similar crime, wouldn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Agent Booth answered reluctantly.

“Thank you, Agent Booth,” Swoboda said with a triumphant smile. “I have no further questions.”

“Any redirect, Miss Wallace?” the judge asked.

“Yes, Your Honor. Agent Booth, Mr. Swoboda brought up the possibility that a killer in Arizona and a different killer in Michigan purchased separate rolls of duct tape made by the same manufacturer before committing their crimes, creating the false appearance that the crimes were related.”

“Yes.”

“Did the FBI ever establish a link between the duct tape used in Arizona and the duct tape used in Michigan that eliminated the possibility of coincidence?”

“Yes. The same exact roll of duct tape was used by the killer in Arizona and the killer in Michigan.”

“How do you know that?”

“Our lab examined the ends of the duct tape used in every case and they found that one piece that was used to bind the hands of one of the Arizona victims fit a piece from the Michigan case like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. It was a one hundred percent physical match.”

The next morning, Ashley and Jerry Philips watched Randy Coleman swagger down the aisle, looking right and left, like a boxer entering the ring in an important fight. Coleman was wearing a new suit and he’d shaved and gotten a haircut. Ashley guessed that Coleman had not had many high points in his life and he was making the best of his fifteen minutes of fame.

“Mr. Coleman, are you the husband of Casey Van Meter, one of the victims in this case?” Delilah asked her witness.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“When did you get married?”

“Six years ago.”

“After two months of marriage, did Ms. Van Meter file for divorce?”

“Yes, but we were working that out when Maxfield tried to kill her.”

“Objection. Not responsive to the question,” Swoboda said. “Move to strike.”

“Sustained. Jurors, you will disregard all of the witness’s answer, except his affirmation that he and his wife were in the midst of a divorce.”

“Mr. Coleman,” Delilah said, “can you tell the jury about an encounter you had with the defendant at the Oregon Academy pool?”

Delilah had gone over the questions that she was going to ask on direct with Coleman. She had told him that there was nothing wrong with admitting that he and Casey Van Meter had been arguing, but Coleman had been very defensive and she prayed that he wouldn’t mess up her case.

“Yeah, sure. I came to the school to talk to Casey. I knew she really didn’t want to split up with me and I was sure we could work things out if we talked about our problems. She liked to swim in the pool and I found her doing laps. We’d just started talking when Maxfield attacked me from behind. I didn’t have a chance. If he hadn’t sneak-attacked me, I…”