Chapter 19 Chapter 17 The Strange Head

Deborah was waiting in front of a two million dollar mansion in the private community of Coconut Grove.The street was sealed off by the police from the guard hut at the entrance to the house.A group of disgruntled neighbors gathered near their well-manicured lawns and sidewalks, glaring at the intrusion of these representatives of the poor from the police station into their paradise.Deborah was on the street directing the photographer what to shoot and from which angle.I hurried over to join her, with Cody and Astor trailing behind me. "What the fuck is that?" Deborah demanded, looking away from the kids to me.

"They're called children," I told her, "often as a by-product of marriage, so you don't know them very well." "Are you fucking crazy for bringing them here?" she blurted out. "You shouldn't have said that word," Astor told Deborah angrily. "You owe me fifty cents." Deborah opened her mouth, flushed, then closed it again. "You have to take them away," she said finally. "They shouldn't be looking at this." "We want to see," said Astor. "Shh," I said to them, "be quiet you two."

"Jesus, Dexter," Deborah said. "You asked me to come right away," I said, "I'm not here." "I can't babysit two kids," Deborah said. "You don't have to," I said, "they're fine." Deborah looked at them both; they both looked at her.Everyone's eyes didn't blink, and for a split second I thought my sister was going to bite her own bottom lip off.Then she shook her head. "Whatever," she said, "I don't have time to argue. You two go over there and wait." She pointed to her police car parked across the street, then grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door, Everything is working there. "Look," she said, pointing to the front of the house.

Deborah told me on the phone that they had found the head, but the truth is, it's hard not to see the head.In front of the house is a short driveway that winds past a pair of coral stone gateposts to a small courtyard with a fountain in the center.At the top of each of the two gateposts is an ornate lamp.On the floor of the driveway between the gateposts was written in chalk what appeared to be the letters "MLK" and some strange writing I couldn't make out.Before the reader gets confused, let me say that on top of each doorpost, is— what.While I'd say the scene has raw tension and obvious dramatic appeal, it's just too brutal.The two heads have been carefully cleaned, but the eyelids are gone, and the mouth has been made into a weird smile by the high temperature, which is really not very good-looking.Of course, no one asked me what I thought, but I still think it shouldn't be such a mess.Very untidy and lacking in real finesse.Moreover, people's heads are placed like this in broad daylight, purely for showing off, which shows an unrefined way of doing things.Still tasteless.I am willing to admit that my way is not the only way.When it comes to aesthetic critiques, I always wait for Nightcrawler to whisper an opinion in my ear, but sure enough, there's silence.

There were no whispers, no flapping of wings, no chirping.My compass was gone, leaving me alone in this unsettling situation with only my hand to hold. Of course, I'm not absolutely alone.Deborah was next to me, and I realized she was talking to me as I mourned my missing partner. "The family went to the funeral this morning," she said, "and came back and saw this." "Who are they?" I asked, motioning to the house. Deborah elbowed me.very painful. "This family, you idiot, is called Ortega. What did I just say?" "All of this in broad daylight?" Somehow, that was unsettling.

"Most of the neighbors were also at the funeral," she said. "But we're still looking to see who saw what." She shrugged. "Maybe we're lucky, maybe." I can't say it's bad, but I just don't think this will bring us luck. "I guess this situation creates some uncertainty about Halpan's conviction," I said. "Of course it's fucking off," she said. "That bastard is guilty." "Ah," I said, "so you're saying someone else found the head, and, ugh." "His uncle, I don't know." She said, "Someone must cooperate with him."

I just shook my head.It didn't make sense at all, and we both knew it.A man capable of thinking up and committing two sacrificial murders so carefully planned would almost certainly have managed it all by himself.This behavior is too personal, and each step has its own unique personal purpose behind it.Anyone who thinks that two people can have such a consistent idea is simply nonsense.The sense of ritual in which the head is placed and displayed, and the way the corpse is handled, are linked together to form a complete sacrifice. "Very wrong," I said. "Okay, so, what's wrong?"

I look at the heads, they are carefully placed on top of the lamp.Apparently they were scorched by fire along with the bodies and there was no trace of blood.The neck cut is very neat.Other than that, I found nothing.But Deborah was still staring at me.It was a real embarrassment when I had a reputation for penetrating into the heart of unspoken mysteries, but the inner teacher I had relied on was nowhere to be seen.I felt like a hacker who was suddenly called on to hold up the show. "Both heads here," I said, because obviously I had to say something, "Why not at another girl's house, the one with the boyfriend?"

"Her family lives in Massachusetts," Deborah said. "This one is more convenient." "Have you checked him out?" "Who?" "The girl's boyfriend," I said slowly and deliberately, "the guy with the tattoo on his neck." "God, Dexter, of course we checked him. We checked everyone who came within half a mile of these two poor girls in their short lives, and you," she took a deep breath, but seemed Still unable to quench the anger in her chest, "Listen, I don't need the help of the police's basic common sense, okay? I just need the crazy things you should know."

That's great, I've been positioned as the king of crazy gadgets, but I don't know how long this title can last with me without the guidance of my black crown.But I still had to bite the bullet and express some profound opinions in his position, so I stabbed a little with my sword. "Well," I said, "then, from a neurotic point of view, it's not two different people working on the same case. So either after Halpan kills them, another person finds the head and wonders Come on, what the hell is going on, I have to hang them up; or, we got the wrong guy." "Fuck me," she said.

"Which paragraph?" "Two paragraphs, damn it!" she said, "Both options are bad!" "Oh shit," I said, startling us both.Because I was fed up with Deborah, and with myself, and with this whole charred case, I did the only reasonable and logical thing I could do.I kicked a coconut away. much better.Now my feet hurt too. "I'm looking up Goldman's background," she said suddenly, nodding toward the house. "As far as I know, he's a dentist. He has an office building in Davy. But this one, I feel like a drugged-up bastard." The old man did it. That's not quite right. Damn it, Dexter," she said, "give me some light." I looked at Deborah in amazement, how she kicked the ball back.And I had no clue, except that I wished sincerely that Goldman would be found out to be a drug lord pretending to be a dentist. "My mind went blank," I said, and it was sadly true. "Ah, shit," she said, looking past me at the gathered crowd.The first news car had already arrived, and before the car stopped, the reporter jumped out, urging his camera assistant to jump over to take pictures. "Damn it," Deborah said, running over to deal with them. "That man is horrible, Dexter." A small voice came from behind me, and I turned around quickly.Cody and Astor quietly appeared behind me again.They stood together, and Cody turned to look at the small group of people gathered by the crime scene boundary tape in the distance. "Which person is scary?" I said.Astor said, "Over there, in the orange shirt. Don't make me point, he's looking at us." I look into the crowd for an orange shirt, but I just see a shadow, at the end of the alley, looking like it's getting into a car.It was a small blue car, not a white Asiatic dragon, but as the car turned toward the main road, something flashed in the rear-view mirror that seemed familiar to me.Although it's hard to be sure, I'm pretty sure it's a University of Miami employee parking pass. I turned to Astor. "Okay, he's gone," I said, "Why do you say he's scary?" "He said so," Astor said, pointing at Cody, who nodded. "He's scary," said Cody, almost inaudibly low. "He's got a big shadow." "Sorry he scared you," I said, "but he's gone now." Cody nodded: "Can we see the head?" Kids are so much fun, aren't they?Cody had just been terrified by some other people's illusory shadows, but now he was eager to look at an unmistakable murderous and terrifying corpse organ.I've never seen him so eager.I wouldn't say him if he was just taking a peek, but I don't feel like I should let him swagger and look.Besides, I hadn't figured out how to explain all this to them.I'd heard that Turkish was more subtle than I'd imagined, but English clearly didn't have the capacity for me to give a decent answer. Fortunately, Deborah came back just in time, and she was nagging something. "I'll never speak ill of the chief again." That sounded implausible, but I couldn't say it, "as long as he takes in all these vampire reporters." "Maybe it's just because you can't relate to people," I said. "Those bastards aren't human," she said. "They just care about taking pictures of their broken hair on the front of their skulls so they can send the tapes back to the TV station. What animal would like to see that?" I actually know the answer, because I'm overseeing two of them in the audience right now, and, to be honest, I have to count myself as one.But it looks like I'll have to steer clear of the subject and focus on the matter at hand.So I thought about what it was that made Cody think that guy was scary, and the fact that he probably had a University of Miami parking pass. "I have an idea," I said to Deborah, her head turned so fast you'd think I'd just told her I was standing on top of a boa constrictor. "It's not the dentist-drug lord you're talking about though," I warn her. "Never mind that," she said through gritted teeth. "Somebody was here just now and scared the kids. He drove off in a car with an employee parking pass on it." Deborah stared at me, stared at me. "Shit," she said softly, "that one Halpan mentioned, what's his name?" "Wilkin," I said. "No," she said, "impossible. Just because the kids said someone scared them? No." "He has a motive," I said. "Just for the teaching position, come on, Dexter." "We don't think much of it," I said, "but they do." "That is, to get a teaching job," she said, shaking her head, "he sneaked into the Halpan house, stole the clothes, killed two girls—" "And draw our attention to Halpan," I said, remembering him standing in the hall talking to us. Deborah's head turned quickly to face me. "Damn it," she said, "he really did that, didn't he, he sent us to Halpan." "And, however far-fetched the faculty-robbing motive may be," I said, "it makes more sense than Danny Rollins and Ted Bundy teaming up on a small case, doesn't it?" Deborah stroked her hair, and the iron-masked policewoman actually showed a hint of femininity. "It's possible," she said at last, "I don't know what Wilkin would say." "Shall we go talk to him?" She shook her head. "I'll talk to Halpan first," she said. "Let me take the kids," I said. Naturally, they were no longer where they should be, but I found them easily, and they slipped aside to get a good look at the two heads.Maybe it's my imagination, but I think I see a glimmer of professional appreciation in Cody's eyes. "Come on," I said to them, "we've got to go." They turned and followed me reluctantly, but I heard Astor mutter something softly: "At least it's better than a stupid museum." gone." He observed from a place far away from the spectators, carefully pretending to be one of the spectators, no different from the others, and not showing any signs.It was a risky thing for the observer to appear at this moment. He might be recognized, but he was willing to take the risk.Needless to say, it gives him great satisfaction to see how people react to his work.A little vanity, but he let himself be. Plus, he wanted to see what they'd do with a simple clue he'd left behind.The opponent was smart, but the guy hadn't noticed the clue so far, striding past it, letting his colleagues take pictures and check it out.Maybe I should be more obvious, but there is still time for the opponent to react.Take your time, let your opponent get into shape, and then take him down when everything is ready-this will be more exciting than anything else. The observer moved closer to get a good look at the guy, to see how he was doing.He also came with kids, which was interesting.They didn't seem much intimidated by the two heads.Maybe they're used to the scene, or— No, it's impossible. He moved closer again very carefully, still maintaining his identity as a spectator and walking through the crowd, knowing that he was very close to the children through the yellow tape. When the boy looked up, their eyes met, everything was certain. Their eyes were locked together, and there was no sense of time, only the sound of black wings flapping.The boy just stood there, looking at him with a familiar expression, recognizing not who he was but what he was.The boy's immature black wings flapped frantically.The observer took another step forward, allowing the boy to see him and the black aura surrounding him clearly.The boy doesn't look scared, he just looks back at the observer and shows his energy.Then the boy turned, took his sister's hand, and they both walked quickly towards the grown-up. Time to leave.The kids would definitely point him out, he didn't want to show up now, not yet.He hurried to the car, got in the car, and drove away.All and nothing to worry about, nothing at all.If there is anything special, it is that he had a kind of unexpected joy. It's those kids.Not because they tell their opponents things about themselves, leading them into an atmosphere of fear, but because observers love children.It's a great feeling to hang out with them, they spread the emotion, make the latter stronger, and sublimate the energy of the whole event. Kids - very interesting. This is starting to get interesting. For a while, it rode monkey-like things to help them fight and kill them, and it felt very happy.But after a few repetitions, it becomes a bit boring, and it has that sense of lack again.When killing, there is an indescribable and restless feeling, as if it is about to wake up, but it fades away, and it wants to figure out what it is. But no matter how long it takes, no matter how many monkey-like things there are, it can't bring back that feeling, and it can't figure out what it is.This made it all the more inquisitive. After a long time, it got a little angry.Monkeys are too immature to be satisfied in anything they do with them.It begins to tire of their stupid, pointless, endlessly repetitive nature.Once or twice it had fits, to punish them for their stupid and dull misery, and it had driven its resident master to kill the whole family and race of those monkey-things.When they were all dead, the feeling came back, just ahead but out of reach, and then sank into sleep again. This made it very discouraged, there must be a way to break through, find out that mysterious thing, and make that feeling into a tangible existence. Eventually, the monkey-shaped things began to change.Very slowly at first, so slow that it doesn't recognize any signs of change, until the whole process is mostly in place and it's a beautiful sight.It entered the home of its new owner, who stood up on his hind legs.Just when it was wondering what happened, the owner said, "Who are you?" After this shocking moment, comes extreme joy. It is no longer just being alone.