“Ralph told me as we crossed down the hallway toward the apartment. “Fill me in.”
“He’s not a typical serial killer—if there even is such a thing. It’s not about a sexual thrill for him, or power or control.”
“What is it?”
“He’s a storyteller. Typically, he frames his crime sprees around literature or famous stories from history. He isn’t into seeing people suffer. That’s not his deal. It’s all about context.”
“Stories, huh? So a folktale or a myth about seven gods? But what about them using thirty-eight?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’m hoping Angela and Lacey can dig something up. In any case, there’s a detachment to what he does. When I confronted him last year, I asked him why he did it, why he killed all those people, and he told me it was interesting to watch people die.”
“That’s cold.”
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