First published in Great Britain by Simon and Schuster, 2013
A CBS COMPANY
Copyright © Chris Carter, 2013
This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.
No reproduction without permission.
® and © 1997 Simon & Schuster Inc. All rights reserved.
The right of Chris Carter to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
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ISBN: 978-1-47112-800-4
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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THE
HUNTER
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
The Crucifix Killer
One
Two
Three
An Evil Mind
One
Two
Three
Four
Chapter 1
‘You have got to be kidding me,’ Detective Scott Wilson of the LAPD Robbery Homicide Division said, as if he’d just heard the world’s unfunniest joke.
Wilson was standing inside Captain William Bolter’s office, staring at the piece of paper the captain had just handed him.
‘You’re dumping a suicide case on me, captain?’ Wilson asked, still looking dumbfounded.
Captain Bolter was in his mid-fifties, but looked at least ten years younger. Tall, strong, and sporting a full head of peppery hair together with a thick mustache, the man was a menacing figure, respected by everyone in the force. He looked at his detective and shrugged matter-of-factly.
‘What are you complaining about?’ he said, returning to his seat behind his large and very messy desk. ‘I thought you all liked easy cases.’ He nodded at the piece of paper in Wilson’s hands. ‘They don’t come much easier than that. The woman sliced her wrists and bled to death in her bed. It’s an open-and-shut case.’
The law in the state of California stipulated that suicides had to be initially treated as homicides; therefore, a homicide detective would have to attend the site and commence investigative procedures to rule out foul play. Once that was done, the investigation, as far as the LAPD Robbery Homicide Division was concerned, could be closed and archived. It would be the work of twenty-four to forty-eight hours.
‘Yeah,’ Wilson said, placing the piece of paper back on the captain’s desk. ‘I love open-and-shut cases, but suicides are a hell of a lot of paperwork, captain, and you know it. Paperwork that needs to be done and filed ASAP.’ He pointed to the main detectives’ floor. ‘I’ve got fourteen open homicide investigations sitting on my desk right now, captain. I’m up to my eyeballs in crap. I barely have time to take a piss, and you want me to throw one, maybe two days away because some rich bitch topped herself?’
‘Well, somebody’s got to do it.’
‘Give it to Perez,’ Wilson suggested. ‘He loves paperwork.’
‘Perez is in hospital. He took a bullet last week, remember?’ Captain Bolter shook his head. ‘Sorry, buddy. You’re it. I’ve got no one else.’
A knock came to the captain’s door.
‘Come in,’ the captain called out.
The door was pushed open by a young man in his mid-twenties, wearing a dark suit that looked rather uncomfortable on him. He was about six-feet tall with broad shoulders and a very powerful-looking physique. His youthful face had a certain serenity to it, the kind that suggested trustworthiness and determination. His eyes possessed a penetrating quality easily associated with self-confidence, but not the cocky kind.
‘And who the hell might you be?’ Captain Bolter asked, narrowing his eyes.
The young man stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and approached the captain’s desk. ‘My name is Robert Hunter, sir, I’m your new detective.’ He handed over several signed forms he had brought with him.
‘Wrong floor, kid,’ Wilson said, pointing at the door again. ‘This is the Robbery Homicide Division – the big boys. You’re probably looking for Commercial Crimes or Support. Both of those are two floors below.’
Hunter nodded. ‘Yes, I know, thank you, but I’m on the right floor, and in the right division.’
Wilson chuckled. ‘You’re joking right? You don’t even look old enough to shave.’
Hunter wasn’t surprised by Wilson’s skepticism. In average it took a LAPD officer at least six years of street-crime-fighting before he was allowed to put in a request for a detective’s position. If successful, it would then take a detective another four to five years, together with an impressive track record and a captain’s recommendation, before he’d even be considered for a position with the Robbery Homicide Division’s elite. And even then, very few were accepted into the RHD. The division was considered to be the top of the ladder when it came to being a LAPD Detective. Wilson had never heard of anyone younger than thirty-something reaching that position.
Hunter was also well aware of that fact. His main goal, once he’d joined the LAPD, was always to make Detective for the Robbery Homicide Division. Deep inside he had to admit that he was very proud of having scorched through the ranks at record speed.
Captain Bolter had forgotten all about the new detective who was supposed to be starting today. Some sort of prodigy kid with a PhD in Criminal Behavior Psychology, who, according to what the captain had been told, had turned down a position with the FBI to join the LAPD.
The captain quickly flipped through the forms. The young detective’s records sure looked impressive, and all the documentation seemed in order.
‘Is this for real, captain?’ Wilson asked, pointing at Hunter. ‘Baby-faced, pretty-boy, bible-salesman-looking kid-in-a-cheap-suit here is joining the division?’
Hunter frowned and looked at his suit. He liked that suit. It was his best suit. His only suit.
‘That’s what the paperwork says,’ the captain agreed, placing the forms down on his desk.
Hunter turned and faced Wilson. ‘Robert Hunter,’ he said, extending his hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, detective . . .?’
Wilson ignored the newbie’s hand. ‘Yeah, I’m sure it is.’ He was still looking at Captain Bolter. ‘Damn, are we recruiting out of kindergarten now, captain? Is the department that despera . . .’ He paused, his eyes settling on the piece of paper he had placed on the captain’s desk just moments ago. ‘Problem solved,’ he said, shrugging at Captain Bolter and reaching for the note.