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In the pale light of dawn, the police station was already bustling with a tense energy. The case of Stella’s disappearance had rattled the entire town, and everyone was on edge. Captain Laura Sykes, a stern, no-nonsense officer, strode into the station, her polished shoes clicking against the floor. She didn’t waste any time. She placed her bag on her desk and immediately began sifting through case notes, her mind already racing with the day’s plans. Laura Sykes was known for her relentless approach to cases, and she was rarely interested in listening to her subordinates' theories—especially if they came from Officer John.
John was one of the youngest officers on the team. He was ambitious and determined, but Captain Sykes often saw his investigative style as a bit unconventional. He was always drawing connections, always looking for patterns, sometimes where there seemed to be none. But John wasn’t deterred by her skepticism. For days, he had been combing through Stella’s case files, pouring over any strange or peculiar detail, and something about the case had caught his attention. The more he looked into it, the more it reminded him of famous killers from the past—killers with distinct calling cards, signatures that they left behind after their crimes. Today, he decided, he had to talk to the Captain about it, regardless of whether or not she would take him seriously.
“Good morning, ma’am,” John greeted her hesitantly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He wanted to speak, but he knew he had to tread carefully.
Captain Sykes looked up, fixing him with a hard stare. “Morning, Officer John,” she replied, not pausing from her work. “What is it?”
John took a deep breath. “I think… well, I think there’s something unusual about Stella’s case. Something that might suggest a pattern—a kind of signature.”
The Captain’s eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms. “A pattern?” she asked, a faint note of disbelief in her voice. “We’re looking at a straightforward case here, John. Stella is missing, and we have two suspects in holding cells with histories of kidnapping. It’s our job to find out if they know anything.”
“Yes, ma’am,” John replied quickly, his face flushing slightly. “But I think it’s more than that. I’ve been looking at the details of the case, and there’s something about it… something that makes me think this isn’t an ordinary crime. There are certain marks, certain clues that reminded me of other cases—cases involving serial killers who each had distinct ‘signatures.’”
Captain Sykes let out a sigh. “This isn’t a crime novel, John. We’re not dealing with some mastermind leaving clues for us to follow. These are just low-level criminals, people who’ve done time for abductions before. Focus on the suspects we have.” She gestured toward the holding cells where two local men sat, their heads lowered, waiting to be questioned.
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John hesitated. He knew she wanted him to go in and interrogate them, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t let this go, not now. Gathering his courage, he spoke up again. “Ma’am, I’ve been researching famous cases, and I think there are some eerie similarities. For example,” he began, hoping she would listen this time, “back in the 1970s, there was the Zodiac Killer. He left cryptic symbols, crosshairs, and strange ciphers, taunting the police with clues no one could fully decipher.”
Captain Sykes’s expression didn’t soften, but she didn’t interrupt either, so John continued, encouraged. “And then there was the BTK killer, back in the 1980s. He would send nude sketches of his victims after the murders, each one more disturbing than the last. He was like the Zodiac in some ways—taunting, arrogant, leaving these horrific reminders of his crimes.”
He saw a flicker of curiosity in her eyes but knew he had to keep it brief if he wanted her attention. “And in the South, there was another killer, nicknamed ‘Raadar.’ After killing his victims, he’d leave a beer bottle near the body, almost like his twisted version of a calling card.”
Laura’s eyebrow arched. “You’re saying that all of these killers left ‘calling cards’?”
“Yes, ma’am. They each had a signature. John Allen, for instance, the killer in Washington, left calling cards after each murder. Then there was Fernandus, who left broken statues of Jesus at the scenes of his crimes. It was his way of mocking faith, of showing his disdain.”
Laura frowned, her expression darkening. “And you’re telling me this because you think Stella’s case might be similar?”
“Yes, ma’am.” John’s voice grew quieter, more intense. “I can’t help but think about it. There’s something about the way things were left… something deliberate, like a message. The crime scene had that same eerie, meticulous quality. In fact, a month before Stella went missing, there was a similar case—another woman’s body was found in a nearby tunnel. Her injuries were… unusual. And now, in the package we found this week—the gift box left for us—there’s a doll with marks that match that earlier case.”
Captain Sykes looked at him carefully, as if assessing whether he was serious. Finally, she spoke, her tone edged with tension. “So, you believe that whoever is behind this isn’t just a local thug, but someone who’s following in the footsteps of these infamous killers? Someone who wants to be recognized?”
John nodded. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. And it’s more than just recognition. It’s like they’re leaving a trail, something we’re meant to piece together. Each of these past killers had an obsession with being noticed, with taunting the authorities. I think we’re dealing with someone who knows about these cases and is deliberately mimicking them.”
There was a long silence as Captain Sykes considered his words. She could see he wasn’t just offering a random theory. He was genuinely convinced, his research thorough, his conviction unshakable.
She sighed, her gaze steady. “Alright, John. Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say this isn’t an isolated incident, but part of something bigger. Where does that leave us?”
John straightened, a glint of determination in his eyes. “We need to look at each of these old cases. Each one of those killers left something behind, something distinct that tied them to their crimes. If we can figure out what our killer’s ‘signature’ is, we might be able to predict their next move. And that gift box… that dolimage [google]l… I think it’s meant to tell us something. It’s like they’re saying, ‘This isn’t over.’”
Captain Sykes considered his words, nodding slowly.