‘Opinion manipulation?’ the captain asked.

‘That’s right. It happens to all of us, whether we understand it or not. That’s why it’s such a powerful trick. If you see someone’s picture in the paper, or on TV, with the word guilty in large letters at the bottom of it, subconsciously your brain starts to lean toward a preconceived, force-fed opinion about that person. “If it’s written, then it must be true.” You don’t need to read the article. You don’t need to know the person’s name. You don’t even need to know what he or she is supposed to have done. It’s the power of rumor. And that power is strong.’

‘And today’s society thrives on voting on the outcome of other people’s lives,’ Garcia said.

Captain Blake turned to face him.

He cracked his knuckles and explained. ‘Just turn on the TV, Captain, and you’ll be inundated with reality shows of people in a house, in a jungle, on an island, on a boat, on stage, you name it. The public is asked to vote on everything, from what and if they’ll eat, to where they’ll sleep, who they are coupled with, silly tasks, if they should stay or go, the list is endless. This killer just stepped it up a notch.’

‘But he did it in a very clever way.’ Hunter took over. ‘He never asked the public to vote on whether she would live or die. That was already decided. Psychologically that’s enough to clear most people’s conscience.’

Captain Blake thought about this for a beat.

‘Meaning . . . why would people feel guilty?’ she said, staring at a printout of the woman lying inside the glass coffin. ‘It’s not their fault she’s inside that coffin. They didn’t put her there. She was going to die anyway. They just played along and picked how.’

Hunter agreed. ‘The problem is the reason why reality TV shows are so successful, and why there are so many of them, is because they’re designed to give people the false impression of power. Power to control what happens in a given situation. Power to decide other people’s fate, so to speak. And that power is one of the most addictive feelings there is. That’s why they keep coming back for more.’

Thirty-Five

Sitting around, waiting for the Missing Persons facial recognition program to hit a match, wasn’t something either Hunter or Garcia was prepared to do.

Earlier in the morning Hunter had checked with the city psychologist who had been assigned to help Anita Lee Parker, the first victim’s widow, cope with her grieving. According to Doctor Greene, Anita was dealing with it in the worst way possible. She was still in denial. Her brain refused to understand what had happened to her husband. She’d spent the last two days sitting in her living room, waiting for Kevin to come home. Deep depression was starting to set in. The saddest thing was that as a consequence, Lilia, her baby daughter, was starting to be neglected. Doctor Greene had given Anita a prescription for antidepressants, but if she didn’t start to get better soon mental health and child welfare organizations would have to get involved.

Hunter’s primary intention was to show Anita a snapshot of the second victim. Check if she recognized the woman at all. Maybe Kevin knew her. Maybe she was a friend of the family. If they could establish that both victims knew each other, on any sort of level, it would at least steer the investigation onto steadier ground. The randomness with which they believed the killer picked his victims wouldn’t look so random. But right now Anita Lee Parker wouldn’t be able to answer any of their questions. Her subconscious was blocking out anything that forced her to deal with the tragedy of her husband’s death. She probably wouldn’t even recognize Hunter and Garcia. It would be no surprise if the entire memory of when they met, only two days ago, had been completely erased.

With Anita still in shock, their best bet was Kevin’s best friend and work colleague, Emilio.

Saturday was Next-Gen’s busiest day, and at 12:28 in the afternoon the shop was full of people browsing and having a go at the latest releases. Emilio was helping a customer choose between two titles when Hunter and Garcia entered the shop. As Emilio saw them, his entire demeanor changed.

‘Can we have a quick chat, Emilio?’ Hunter said, approaching him when he was done with the customer.

Emilio nodded nervously. He guided them through a door behind the cashier’s counter and into the staff’s break room at the back of the shop.

Emilio looked tired and nervous. There was no disguising the dark circles under his eyes.

No one took a seat. Emilio stood beside an old Formica table at the center of the room, and Hunter and Garcia by the door.

‘Everything OK?’ Garcia asked, referring to Emilio’s noticeable trepidation, something that hadn’t been there the first time they met.

Two quick nods. ‘Yes, sure.’ He wasn’t meeting anyone’s eyes.

‘Did you remember something about Kevin that we should know?’

‘No. Nothing. I told you everything already.’

‘Well, something happened,’ Garcia said. ‘Because truthfully, your poker face sucks.’

Emilio finally met Garcia’s stare.

‘Whatever it is, we’re going to find out one way or another, so you might as well tell us and save everyone some time.’

Emilio took a deep breath and looked down at the floor.

Hunter and Garcia waited.

‘I was offered the manager’s position here at the shop. Kevin’s old job.’

‘OK . . .?’ Garcia was still waiting for something else.

‘That’s it,’ Emilio said, running a nervous hand over his mustache.

‘And what is the problem?’

An uneasy chuckle. ‘I know how it goes, man. If I take the job you’ll start thinking that I had something to do with what happened to Kevin. It’s a motive, isn’t it? Me taking over his old job. But believe me, I had no idea they would ask me to be the manager. I’m not even the most senior employee here. They should ask Tom. He would be a good manager.’ His voice almost croaked. ‘Kevin was my best friend. He was like my brother . . .’

Garcia gave Emilio a sympathetic smile and lifted his hand, stopping him. ‘Emilio, let me cut you off there. You’ve been watching way too many CSIs, or Criminal Intent, or whatever it is that you watch.’

Emilio looked back at both detectives.

Hunter nodded. ‘He’s right. Unfortunately for us, things aren’t as simple as that. You taking the manager’s job isn’t going to send your name to the top of the suspects’ list, Emilio.’

‘Really?’ It was like a heavy load was suddenly lifted from Emilio’s shoulders.

‘Really,’ Garcia reassured him. ‘The reason we’re here is because we would like you to have a look at something for us.’

They showed him a printout of the woman lying inside the glass coffin. The snapshot had been taken right at the beginning of the broadcast; the word GUILTY hadn’t appeared at the bottom of the image yet, and neither had the voting buttons. But the letters SSV and the number sequence 678 were clearly visible in the top left- and right-hand corners of the image.

Emilio stared at it for a long moment while scratching his chin. ‘I’m . . . not sure,’ he finally said. ‘But there’s something familiar about her face.’

Both detectives kept their excitement in check.

‘You think you’ve seen her before? With Kevin, maybe?’

He stared at the printout for a few more seconds before shaking his head. ‘No, I don’t think it was with Kevin. Kevin really didn’t have that many friends. He was always at home with Anita, here at work or playing online games after we shut the shop. He didn’t hang out in bars or nightclubs or anything like that. He didn’t meet a lot of people.’