Page 101 of Psychopath

“Of course he didn’t know.”

“Why? Why choose your victims that way?”

“Jealousy…possessiveness. It’s potent. That hot, burning sensation in the pit of your stomach. Every time they said something sexual, every time they suggested they could make him feel so much better than I could, it grew a fury. It built and built until I had to let them have it, and that’s when I’d agree to meet them. That’s when I’d take them to the killing room. That’s when I’d cut them and take their heads from their bodies.”

Virgil’s eyes gleamed. He swallowed hard. “And then I’d go home, and I’d fuck Luca. I’d be rough with him, I’d tell him he was mine, and I’d whisper possessive things in his ear and tell him if he ever tried to leave me, I’d kill him. If anyone tried to take him from me, I’d kill them.”

“He must’ve been scared.”

Virgil shook his head. “No. Me…like that… Well, it turned him on.”

“How do you think Luca felt when he learned you were using his picture to choose your victims?”

Virgil’s jaw stiffened. “I don’t know.”

“Were you afraid Luca would leave you?”

“Always. He said he loved me. He said we would always be together.” Virgil’s nostrils flared. “But where is he now? Where has he been for the last two years?” He breathed in deep. “And who has he been with?”

“The murders… Was there a sexual element to them?”

“I felt no sexual desire for the men I killed, only a desire to see them dead, to relish in it, and go home to Luca.”

“And when you were with Luca, did you think about what you’d done while you had intercourse?”

“Yes, but it was because I knew they couldn’t do to Luca what I was… Their fantasies, their desires, what they wanted to do to him…they never got to see. They never got to touch, or taste, or smell, but they wanted to.” Virgil’s face pulled with a snarl. “Some of them were desperate for him, leaving begging voice notes, bombarding his profile with dick pics and videos of them masturbating.” He shuddered. “One of them moaned Luca’s name while he jerked off, and I had to kill him for that.”

Virgil’s eyes glazed over as if he was remembering.

“Did you keep mementoes?”

“Do their heads count?” Virgil asked.

Quinn winced. “Why did you take them and leave everything else?”

“I don’t know, but I’d have them in the back of my car for a few weeks, wrapped up.”

“With Luca in the car too?”

Virgil nodded. “I found it satisfying to know they were there, so close to the object of their desire, and when I grew tired of them, I buried their heads in the garden.”

“But not the first?”

“No.” Virgil tilted his head.

“Why not?”

“He was different.”

“Where is his head?”

“In the killing room. He’s…complete.”

Quinn’s gut tightened, but he steeled himself. “Complete?”

“I didn’t cut him to pieces. He’s intact in his oil drum. The others are not.”

Quinn glanced at his watch. He willed the time to be up and for Cleo to knock on the door.

---