As soon as we were outside, I focused all of my concentration on the open window. I barely heard the discussion between my partner and the reporter. In Russian, Jenna confronted her brother with: “The reporter knows of the other two…”

“Do not worry my dear,” he replied. “Even if they could guess, they wouldn't believe the truth. I still have trouble with it myself. We are safe, at least for now.”

“They must die…”

“Next week – we must wait. We must be patient…”

I heard them walking out of the room as they spoke; anything they said after that was too faint for me to make out.

Returning my focus to my two companions: “So, since I could not get any information out of either of you, I ran a search on the national unsolved murders database. Found two that match – one in San Diego two weeks ago, the other in Iowa last week.”

Dina looked ill. “The national database? You do know the FBI is going to swoop in and take this case from us now, right?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.

“Any hits returned by a search in the national database get flagged to the FBI Serial Crimes division. We may have twenty-four hours before they come in…”

“But don’t they have to be invited?” I asked.

“Not if the serial crimes crossed state lines - only if they are local. Didn’t they teach you anything at the academy?” This was Tara teasing me, not my partner. I glared at her then turned back to Dina and gave her a questioning look.

“She’s right. They’ll want this one. If we’re lucky, they’ll let us take point on it. If not, they’ll push us right out.”

Tara glanced between us, then smiled: “Guys, let me help you with this one – I have got some contacts and information you don't, and you have access I lack. Promise me an exclusive when it’s over and I promise I won’t let anything leak until then.”

Dina gave her a look that almost had a physical impact behind it and was about to say something very nasty, but I held up a hand: “Wait – I have an idea, and she’s probably right. She can help us.”

“You would think that,” Dina replied. “Let’s hear your thoughts though – assuming you are thinking with the …”

“I am,” I interrupted. I was about to continue then another thought hit me: “You said this was national… What if it’s international? Would that affect the FBI’s involvement?”

“Possibly, why?” Dina asked.

“Just a hunch – Tara, could you check for similar murders in Djakarta, two, maybe three weeks before the San Diego one? And the travel time between them?”

She gave me an odd look and took out her phone. “I’ll look into the travel times,” Dina offered, “but you had better have a good explanation.”

A few seconds passed, and then Tara gasped: “Yes – it does not completely fit the pattern, but is exactly two weeks before San Diego. An antiques dealer just back from his honeymoon was found butchered like the local ones. Hmm… Interesting…’

“Travel time is approximately thirty hours by air, anywhere from six to ten days by water,” Dina interjected. Then turned to Tara: “What’s so interesting?”

“Pure tabloid journalism – mentions a string of murders ten years earlier, similar to the antique dealer’s, and wondering if someone called the ‘Bayside Butcher’ came out of retirement.”

Things were coming together in my mind at this point – but the picture was one I really did not like or feel that I could share – quite yet.

Dina took the phone from Tara – who yielded without a fight this time – and ran through the article, and then followed up with several of the linked ones. “It has to just be a coincidence, right?” she said as she handed the phone back.”

“Or a copycat,” I suggested. “Is there any way we could track the travel patterns of our Professor and his sister?”

“His sister?” both women asked me, shocked.

“From something Professor Andreiopov mentioned, I think the antique dealer was her husband…”

“The FBI could do that, but we would have to go through mountains of paperwork…” Dina answered after a few moments of thought.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” Tara volunteered. “I can call in some favors”

Dina glanced at me and, under her breath, said: “OK, maybe bringing her in was not the worst idea ever…”

We walked towards our car while Tara paced up and down the sidewalk. Twice I saw Jenna glancing out of different windows, her eyes following us intently.

Dina began playing around with her own tablet, while I remained mired in my own thoughts.

Finally, Tara walked over to us. “I have some news but need to wait on a few faxes. The Professor’s sister arrived in San Diego, at least according to her passport, the day before the murder there. Oh, and the Professor was in Baltimore at a conference when the Iowa one took place, so he’s out for that one…”

“How did she arrive?”

“Apparently via a cruise ship, why?”

“Six to ten days – if this follows a pattern, our killer struck during that cruise…”

“Wait, you’re suggesting she’s our seven-foot-tall psychopath with the strength of a drill-press?” Dina asked me, one eyebrow raised in an unspoken question.

“Maybe – probably used some kind of tool or something if so… Though a murder on ship would be noticed and cause problems at port but a disappearance might not,” I prodded.

“You checking this or should I?” Dina asked Tara.

“Already on it.”

“We need to pull credit card info for the Professor and, if we can, his sister.”

“Need a warrant or probable cause…” Dina warned.

“You need that,” Tara said. “I … have my own resources – and have already called them. They’re faxing his info to my office already but, other than the passport, I haven’t found any evidence the sister even exists, beyond having physically met her…”

“Hmm,” Dina mused. “Interesting.”

We both turned to her as she supplied the following thought: “Three known victims were female. All four had brown hair and were roughly the same size and even similar builds from the pictures I’ve found, even the antiques dealer. All three women were also open, known lesbians, and one has a number of prostitution charges on her record.”

“There was a disappearance on The Pacific Star. A woman who worked in the ship’s hair salon and was under investigation for solicitation, an Andrea Baker. Pulling up picture… oh wow…”

Tara turned her phone towards us: aside from a slightly different hairstyle, she was almost an exact match for the student ID photo we had for Linda Marshall.

“Our killer clearly has a ‘type,’” I mused.

Tara walked over to my partner and held the camera up beside her: “A type very similar to you, Detective Genovelli…”

I had not noticed – had not even considered it before – but there was a definite similarity. Dina was a little shorter and stockier, and had a slightly darker complexion but could have been a close relative of Miss Marshall. “Can you find pictures of the other victims?”

“Here’s the girl from Iowa, Christine Vrbancek.” The girl in the picture had close-cropped hair and a much larger nose but still definitely fit the type.

Dina beat Tara to the punch with: “And meet Carole Maclin.”

“If you want to set a trap,” Tara said looking at the picture on the tablet, “you’ve definitely got the right bait…”

Dina raised both eyebrows at this, clearly considering the idea.

A different thought came to me though: “Can we check for any unsolveds in Baltimore at the same time as the Dubuque one? Maybe something the police did not release details of for being too horrific?”

“What, you suspect two killers?”

I nodded. “Brother and sister, perhaps working together on some, separately on others.”

Dina started activating windows on her tablet, and said: “You know we don’t have enough even to get a warrant, let alone hold them…”

“Do they know that, though?” I replied. “They’re expecting Miss O’Malley to go back and interview them. Why not give them the impression that we’ve found evidence linking one of them to at least one of the murders and plan an arrest tomorrow? Maybe they’ll slip and give us something actionable…”

“Or maybe they will decide once a week is not enough and try to take me down?” Dina finished for me.

“If you’re willing to be used as bait in a trap, yes…”

“I… oh dear lord…” she held up the laptop – there was, indeed, an unsolved murder. The police had not released any details but not only the picture of the victim, but her name as well showed a stronger connection between two victims than we’d seen so far: Elaine Marshall, an anthropology student, was, according to the article, survived by her twin sister Linda, a student at The Renner Institute.

“Just got a text from the office,” Tara interjected. “The faxes arrived. You guys want to follow me?”

“No, you go in and interview the Professor like you planned before we arrived. Let slip that we plan to make an arrest tomorrow, hint that it’s one of them we hope to arrest, then find a way to get out quickly.”

“And what will you two do?” Tara asked.

Dina: “I think we need to put formal requests to Dubuque, San Diego and Baltimore for their files,” Dina suggested. “Once we do that, we’ll head to your paper and wait for you.”

“Hmm, OK, I’ll text you when I’m headed that way, then?” again from Tara.

“Sure. You have got our cards, right?” Dina asked her.

She patted her purse and smiled. “Good hunting. Never actually worked with you guys before…”

Dina pulled me toward the car before I could reply. As soon as Tara was at the door to the Professor’s house, she hissed: “Bringing her into this was a bad idea, but it’s working out well so far. We just have to keep a handle on things… Come on.”

I followed her into the car, and we sped off.