I-S-U…R
C-A-D…
I-A-D…
I stopped after the next three letters: IMU. I stared at the page. I remembered pierced, the obviousness of it. The simplest wordplay.
Isabella, Michaela, Ursula. Those were names of the first three victims — in order. Jesus Christ!
I looked at the names of all the victims — in order of the murders. I looked at the first, last, and middle names. I began mixing and matching the names. My heart was pounding. There was something here. Pierce had left us another clue, a series of clues, actually.
It was right there in front of us all the time. No one got it, because Smith’s crimes appeared to be without any pattern. But Pierce had started that theory himself.
I continued to write, using either the first or last or middle names of the victims. It started IMU. Then R, for Robert. D for Dwyer. Was there a subpattern for selecting the name? It could be an arithmetic sequence.
There was a pattern to Pierce-Smith, after all. His mission began that very first night in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He was insane, but I had caught on to his pattern. It started with his love of wordplay.
Thomas Pierce wanted to be caught! But then something changed. He had become ambivalent about his capture. Why?
I looked at what I had assembled. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered. “Isn’t this something. He has a ritual.”
I Isabella Calais.
M Stephanie Michaela Apt.
U Ursula Davies.
R Robert Michael Neel.
D Brigid Dwyer.
E Mary Ellen Klauk.
R Robin Anne Schwartz.
E Clark Daniel Ebel.
D David Hale.
I Isadore Morris.
S Theresa Anne Secrest.
A Elizabeth Allison Gragnano.
B Barbara Maddalena.
E Edwin Mueller.
L Laurie Garnier.
L Lewis Lavine.
A Andrew Klauk.
C Inspector Drew Cabot.
A Dr. Abel Sante.