The Knight, the Beauty, the Beast, the Fool. Eat a Heart – Gain Love

Dr. Gasztold, for instance, looked at Gatti with warmth – this is not typical of narcissists. Will, as always, closed off from any external stimuli, seemed not to notice the gaze of dark eyes, the velvet soft timbre, the slightly bowed head, the receiver tuned only to him … Dr. Gasztold is not a narcissist or a psychopath, not a serial killer – he simply has a mind of his own, like all gifted and talented people … It is just that Allex begins to see monsters and demons everywhere, devouring representatives of the human race, he is simply tired.

Could the Heartthrob be, say, de Lavender? And could Miss Gustavsson be a potential victim?

De Lavender is too slight in appearance, he does not fit the profile of an athletic killer … And Miss Gustavsson, although a socialite, stands out from the entire dinner party crowd. She is too … alive for these walking dead in silk suits, masks of social makeup on their faces, diamonds, and pompous speeches.

Or does Allex just believe so … What is Miss Gustavsson doing here then, if she is not like them?

No, he definitely needs to rest – but most likely, it will not be possible anytime soon.

5. Feed a Friend

[United States, Baltimore, Reservoir Hill]

At nine in the morning, Will Gatti rang the doorbell of Dr. Gasztold’s house, the loud, resonant bell echoing in the hall on the other side of the door. Will shivered from the frosty air, covering his nose with the collar of his jacket, yawned widely, a cloud of steam escaping from his open mouth.

Lukas Gasztold, opening the door, found Special Agent Gatti standing on the threshold with a distorted face, with the mouth of a shaggy dog open wide.

“Hello, Will.”

“Good morning, Dr. Gasztold,” Will responded after a pause for mouth to close and a brief moment of eye contact.

“Please, come in.”

Will Gatti had visited Dr. Gasztold only a few times, most often in the office at work, at crime scenes, in the psychiatrist’s office two blocks away, or Gasztold had visited Will in the suburbs of Vienna. Gasztold’s home was a contradictory place – tempting with sophistication and a certain excess, but oppressive with gloom, lofty motives, despite the spiritual images, stifled with an unbearable weight.

Will preferred subdued colors, minimalism in details, so that nothing would distract or catch the eye, but in the home of Dr. Gasztold, things, one more bizarre than the other, constantly drew his attention, he felt uneasy.

“I just made breakfast,” Dr. Gasztold pointed toward the kitchen, from where the enticing smells of fresh bread, meat, and spices were coming. “It’s already waiting for you.”

Will nodded. He hadn’t had time to eat before leaving, had barely slept, had spent the whole night thinking about the Heartthrob case. The journey had taken more than two hours, he didn’t mind refueling – fortunately, Dr. Gasztold always spoiled him with something tasty …

When Special Agent Gatti saw Serret tucking into a scrambled egg at the dinner table, he was taken aback.

“Hi, Will!” he exclaimed with his mouth full. “You’re just in time!”

Dr. Gasztold was amused by Will’s reaction, he smiled with thin lips, pointed to the laid table and the empty seat for the guest.

“I suggested that Allex stays the night after yesterday’s event, his resilience is something to be envied,” Lukas Gasztold explained.

“That’s very kind of you, Dr. Gasztold,” Serret responded, taking a bite of the baguette. “I don’t even know what I would do without you – and without your care!”

He was not lying, he was truly grateful. After the dinner party, when Allex had already changed into his usual clothes and was heading for the exit, and the service personnel had been sent home, Dr. Gasztold called out to him.

“It is truly a crazy night, Agent Serret,” he said.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Allex replied.

“Are you hungry? I haven’t seen you take a break while you were working.”

Allex tried to understand Gasztold’s intentions, but so far he found no reason to worry. He likes to feed people … There was nothing reprehensible about it.

“I tried a few appetizers, couldn’t resist,” the young man shrugged. “It’s quite the thing, I’ve never eaten anything like it in my life … But if you’re offering me dinner, I’m out,” he added. “It’s a long way to Quantico, I’ll turn into a zombie tomorrow if I don’t get at least a couple of hours of sleep.”

Dr. Gasztold’s dark eyes stared at him without looking away, and Allex felt naked for a moment … Will Gatti had a reason for ignoring this kind of attention.

“You can stay here for the night, Will will come in the morning, you can discuss everything you need with him without wasting time on the road.”

Allex had no objections.

“That changes things,” he nodded. “Thank you!”

Allex unashamedly ate the treats, sitting at the end of the long dining table in the empty hall, Dr. Gasztold cleared the dishes, bowing briefly to the recurrent enthusiastic exclamations of the young man, walked around the house, not embarrassing the guest with his presence. Then Allex went to sleep on the couch in the living room, with a full stomach, legs buzzing from fatigue, and an aching lower back.

In the morning, Dr. Gasztold fed him again. With his disheveled shock of chestnut hair, Allex resembled an animal that could only be tamed with affection and hot food, he responded to good treatment like the sensitive soundboard of a musical instrument … Agent Serret worked his jaws, the food disappeared from the plate with incredible speed, as if there was a bottomless abyss inside the young man.

Will ate with appetite, but more slowly. Allex did not bother him with conversation, waiting for the end of the meal, despite the unbearable desire to finally share his thoughts about the last evening; Dr. Gasztold was silent and watched them, barely perceptibly smiling at his thoughts.

The moment Agent Gatti placed the utensils on the plate, Allex asked, “Do I understand correctly that Dr. Gasztold is aware of all the details of the investigation, and we can discuss the Heartthrob case openly in front of him?”

“Yes,” Will replied into his mug.

“I spent the whole evening in the thick of things, but I didn’t see anyone among the guests who fit the portrait. There were narcissists, sadists, and even perverts – but there was no bulimic bodybuilder among them.”

He looked at Lukas Gasztold with an invitation to comment, the doctor tilted his head slightly to the side, as if he was considering whether to say what was on his mind.

“I am also inclined to believe that there was no Heartthrob among yesterday’s guests,” he responded. “At least according to the description that the investigation has.”

Will looked away and bit his lip.

“I can’t put one detail in place,” he began. “He kills out of hatred for women, wealthy and attractive; he is filled with a rage that can only be quelled by eating their entrails, he is tormented by an anxiety that only goes away from the feeling of being full; he is physically strong and revels in his power over his victim. He does not put on a show for those who will see the corpse, he sets the table for a meal, but does not wait for his family – who rejected him … He waits for a friend – and at the same time eats it himself.”

Allex narrowed his eyes.

“A friend?”

“Yes. The one who will come to dinner. As if there were two of them – one cooking, the other eating.”

“But the friend doesn’t come, and he starts without him?”

Will thought.

“No. I don’t quite get it. A friend comes and gobbles up the treat, greedily, rudely, impatiently opens the gift, tears the wrapper … And the one who cooked it is careful, calm, leaves no evidence.”

Dr. Gasztold spoke as Will and Allex looked at him.

“Dissociative identity disorder is a fairly rare disease,” he said. “More often, however, it is just a combination of psychological defenses, repression, partial amnesia, a state of exaltation. If two personalities live inside the killer, it will be more difficult to find him – he can hide under any guise, especially if the one who does the dirty work to please the other is aware of his actions and does not make mistakes.”

His hand is in the warm, damp cavity of the chest, blood flows between the fingers, tickles the skin, the heart seems to still be pulsating in the palms, the lips touch the smooth, slippery, salty, enticingly smelling flesh. The tongue feels the relief of small furrows, elastic muscle tissue, the teeth press, bite into it, feeling resistance, for a short moment the mouth is coated with saliva mixed with an unchewed piece of meat splashing with juice. It fills the throat, slips down, catches the breath, the ringing in the ears increases, scarlet streams flow down the chin and neck onto the chest, the stomach pulsates with a vague, phantom pain …

Will exhaled sharply, shook his head, his hands on either side of his plate, his back covered in sweat under his checked shirt and pullover, his legs twitching involuntarily under the table.

Another moment – and he would have become aroused, the blood would have flowed back to his face, the hair on his arms would have stood on end. There were two of them … in one.

“He’s feeding him,” Will said quietly, Allex staring at Agent Gatti in awe. “He wants to be friends with him.”

“Why would he be friends with someone who eats people?”

Serret was pretty much to the point … Indeed, why?

Will didn’t know the answer, that’s why he suffered all night before, couldn’t solve the riddle. The friend he fears, the friend he idolized – and doesn’t want to let go … Or wants to tie him to himself.

“What does he look like, Will?” Dr. Gasztold asked.

He had a little idea of his appearance, his face was as if in a fog – even if he imagined that he was looking in the mirror. He does not know who he is … Or he knows – and runs from himself.

Will huffed, sweat beading on his forehead, his chestnut locks darkening and sticking to his face.

“He has body dysmorphic disorder. He thinks he’s a monster,” Special Agent Gatti replied after a moment. “He’s—”

“A demon!” Allex gasped, still staring at Will. “He thinks he’s a demon! He’s feeding a demon!”

He did not share the enthusiasm and joy of the young man, he was gloomy and upset. A man who committed brutal murders, methodically thinking through every step to please the monster inside him, was unpleasant to him … However, the pain and despair with which the Heartthrob reverently prepared dinner for his ‘friend’ penetrated to the bone – the criminal was sick, his mind had distorted logic, inscribing justified cruelty and the need to make a sacrifice into the world picture, suffocating in loneliness.

“Many cults have traditions of bringing gifts to the demon, including to establish a connection with it, to merge with it – and for this there are tools of conditional dissociation. Put on a mask of a beast – become the beast, draw eyes on a stone – make it alive, kill a foe – take his soul. Eat a heart – gain courage, eat a heart – gain love … Among my patients – and yesterday’s guests of the evening – there are no people who would be ready to take such measures – even if rhetorically the prospect of throwing oneself to a demon tempted them.”

The killer’s personality seemed fantastical and paradoxical. A body dysmorphophobic bodybuilder with an oral fixation, holding a grudge against women from an elite Baltimore neighborhood, wanting to be friends with the demon inside him … The demon is sloppy and unrestrained, the criminal himself is calculating and calm. All the victims were united by their privileged status, all four had a certain phenotype of dyed blond blogger-housewives – too common to understand the specifics of the sample.

The punishment of the heartless attractive woman was a metaphor, the Heartthrob could be a rejected admirer or an envious person. Dr. Gasztold’s notes could only be useful for reference, in the first three crimes the killer handled without them.

“We’ve been looking in the area all along,” Will said. “Among the victims we knew, among Dr. Gasztold’s acquaintances. But what if it could have been anyone – and he was just picking them at random?”

Special Agent Gatti claimed that the Heartthrob observed the family tradition of gathering around the dinner table as a rule of etiquette – until he climbed up on the table with his feet and began slicing up his victim. They unanimously decided that the criminal was one of the bon ton, a neighbor of unsuspecting businessmen, artists, successful dentists, and psychiatrists …

He entered the doors using a copy of the key, disabled the alarm with a code, wore expensive shoes – judging by the bloodstains at the crime scene – but was careless in ecstasy when the victim was already dead – from strangulation – and placed on the table. No one saw him before or after – as if he were invisible, a ghost.

All the victims led the same lifestyle – with yoga in the morning, late breakfast, beauty treatments and entertainment events, walks with children and family dinners – with the obligatory demonstration of their culinary talents on social networks.

The victims knew each other – according to their social media accounts, where they tagged each other’s posts – but this did not mean friendship or even fellowship …

But from them one can build a chronology, understand more about their daily routine than their husbands said about the victims.

“I’ll compare their social networks again, whether they went to the same parties or exhibitions,” Allex said. “If they don’t have anything in common, we’ll start looking among delivery guys and cleaning services, and so on until we see a pattern.”

Will wasn’t so overconfident anymore. This Heartthrob seemed like an imposter …

He still felt sick, he shuddered.

“He’s uncomfortable in his own skin,” said Special Agent Gatti, “and so he wants to become someone else.”

“I’ll help you find what he wants to become,” Dr. Gasztold said, looking at Will Gatti, waiting for him to look back. “Whether it’s a mythical character or one he’s made up, it determines his actions and motives.”

6. Pine Marten

[United States, Baltimore, Reservoir Hill]

The autumn sun at its zenith watched Baltimore, the sky was clear and blue, Allex decided to take a walk along the mansions built in a row on a cozy street, planted with oak trees as part of the city’s greening program. The four victims walked the same paths, carelessly parking cars along the narrow sidewalk, squinting in the bright midday light, collecting the poop of their tiny dogs from the lawns with a bag … Near their home – cozy cafés and restaurants, farm products shops and barber shops, even a psychiatrist lives two minutes away!

No, Dr. Gasztold’s patients have nothing to do with it, Allex thought, adjusting the strap of the backpack with the waiter’s change of clothes on his shoulder. Will said, the Heartthrob is furious, in despair, which has been accumulating for years …

A little later, he would go to the office, for the work computer left there, to collect information about the ordinary day of a local housewife. Allex did not have a smartphone, he had broken the last one about a month ago – when the device had an unfortunate collision with the fist of a criminal being detained. He had dropped the previous ones during active movement, falls, or the screen simply cracked one fine day … The push-button phone was more reliable, it could make calls and send text messages, and if desired, one could hammer nails with it or throw it at someone. The only downside was the lack of a camera – to record evidence on the spot.

A long black car with polished sides pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the street, the sun’s glare reflected off the tinted windows. A typical weekday situation, the driver of a luxury electric vehicle – with a claim to care about the environment – gets out of the car, walks around the hood, opens the rear door … Allex noticed the golden hair of the passenger who deftly slipped out right away, in the corner of his eye, and only a moment later realized the association that flashed through his mind.

Wilhelmina Gustavsson nodded to the driver, giving him a sign to wait in the car, her back straight in a storm-blue coat over a beige hoodie, heading toward the front steps of the grocery store.

Agent Serret’s legs pulled him after her, and he was already crossing the road when he realized he was starting to artificially invent a reason – for the benefit of the investigation.

A few seconds later he was opening the door, letting out a mother with two children and a cart full of groceries, who were coming out onto the entrance staircase, then he went inside, past the security guard, who looked at him as if he had already stolen something.

The guard was large, with the figure of a bodybuilder, but Allex understood perfectly well that a magazine picture from a male beauty contest might be of little use – they were clumsy and did not even know the basic techniques, their job was to be a scarecrow, an impressive facade.

Golden-haired Miss Gustavsson flashed past the cookie stands and disappeared from view, Allex headed in the same direction. How is she different from a housewife, whose only concern is maintaining the image of a happy family in public, being beautiful and occasionally going out, working – usually in a creative profession – only when she wants to? She will also push a cart with groceries, fill it with everything she likes, will not take off her sunglasses even in the store … A chef cooks for her, a driver takes her even two blocks from home, surprisingly, the cart is not pushed by a bodyguard or an assistant.

Allex walked along the rack, occasionally looking out between the shelves, Miss Gustavsson walked parallel with a poker face. Her visage, as before, had an even tone and no blush on her cheekbones, her hair lay perfectly, but loosely, one light strand had slightly fallen out on her forehead, and the girl immediately fixed it … Gray-blue eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, Allex could not understand when she did look in his direction, but continued to stare. As luck would have it, some old woman in a red beret had already driven into him with a cart, a caster wheel had run over his boot at the turn, when he gaped, watching Miss Gustavsson take water from the shelving and carefully read the ingredients.

A strange rumble was heard a couple of dozen yards away, and Agent Serret and Wilhelmina simultaneously turned their heads towards the noise source.

“This is a robbery! Everybody on the floor! Give me the money, or I’ll blow your brains out!”

The screams and shouts of the frightened spectators were the corresponding accompaniment; Wilhelmina seemed paralyzed, her hand clenched around the plastic bottle, but not a single muscle twitched on her pale face.

How unlucky she is! Now Phoebus won’t even let her into the store alone, only with an escort! Bloody moron, couldn’t he find another store, couldn’t he come and rob it at another time?!

What was part of the daily routine and was the order of the day for ordinary people, Wilhelmina had to fight for: walking alone along the stands, strolling through the park, going to a coffee shop between filming – for the protégé of Phoebus de Lavender, an unaffordable luxury. Beloved, dear, but still a doll … Phoebus controlled all her movements, could check her phone – without even hiding his permissiveness – knew about all her acquaintances and colleagues, chose her wardrobe.

Wilhelmina was incredibly lucky that Phoebus didn’t mind the camel-colored hoodie and blue coat – from the latest Burberry collection with the signature tartan print on the lining – so she could wear something less formal.

Sometimes Wilhelmina felt like an ungrateful bitch, the ultimate traitor, when she stopped appreciating the comfort and pleasures that not everyone could afford. Not everyone, by far … However, the price for slavery was high.

Others are worse off than me … she reassured herself. She was polite to everyone, was friends with everyone regardless of their status – how one can be friends if they has to hide one small detail that defines his entire existence … She felt like an imposter at the party of life, a deadman, unable to understand joy, passion and carelessness, the taste of freedom and simple existence. They stole it from her – and convinced her she sold her soul, for pennies, for a pittance, while she herself was sold without her wanting to be.

Agent Serret perked up, his body tensed, turned into an elastic spring, a cocked trigger. He looked like a wild animal that sensed danger, making a decision in a matter of seconds – to attack or run away. Wilhelmina tried to figure out who he reminded her of … A pine marten! Chestnut-colored fur, dark beady eyes, a sharp nose, and a fluffy tail.

Martens are predators. Before Wilhelmina could even figure out what was coming next, Agent Serret had already quietly placed his backpack on the floor and was moving smoothly towards the robber on the opposite side of the shelving, his feet making no sound.

They were not visible, they both had the level of stupidity and courage not to duck, but to peer curiously from behind the rows of goods.

The cashier creaked the cash drawer, put the bills on the table, the security guard, his face red from the effort, lay with his ears covered, in the middle of the open space of the hall. The robber, wearing a white plastic mask covering his entire face, stood opposite, a pistol shaking in his outstretched hand.

“What are you fiddling about with, stupid cow? Move it!”

The gun swung, the cashier yelped, and a murmur and squeal ran through the frozen crowd of onlookers. If she had pressed the panic button, the criminal would be gone before the police arrived.

Wilhelmina almost opened her mouth in bewilderment, only took off her sunglasses and put them in her inside pocket when Serret came out from behind the shelving, past the bodies lying on the floor trembling in horror, thereby revealing himself. Someone was already crying in panic, hiding behind a cart, someone was filming what was happening on a smartphone camera, from below, stretched out on the shiny tiles, resting their elbow on a branded bag.

The plot was like a production of the theater of the absurd. Serret is just crazy! Where is he going – under the gun?!

Wilhelmina looked around, as if trying to find confirmation – or refutation – of reality, saw only the store assistant, clenching his gloved fists, either from indignation or from anxiety. He seemed to feel the golden-haired girl’s gaze on the back of his head in a baseball cap, turned his head, Wilhelmina’s glance met the gray icicles of his eyes.

Wilhelmina looked at him without blinking, he shook his head.

Meanwhile, the robber had already grabbed two grocery paper bags of money – not a very large sum, considering that most of the civilized world had already stopped paying in cash – and was heading for the exit, still holding his gun at the ready.

He saw a figure detached from the stands, but the get-out door was already nearby.

Apparently out of his mind, Serret called out to him.

“If you put your gun down and surrender, we will say you were polite and kind.”

Suicide! Wilhelmina sometimes imagined throwing herself under a speeding car, jumping off a bridge – but exposing herself to the bullets of a random amateur bandit was something she would hardly think of!

The criminal pulled the door handle, but it was locked – after the emergency alarm was triggered, the doors were blocked.

“Everybody down! Lie down on the floor, bitch! Open the door for me!”

“Alas,” Agent Serret said calmly, still approaching him, slightly spreading his arms to the sides, “the door will not open until the police arrive.”

“I’ll shoot!” the man in the mask yelled. “At her!” He pointed at the cashier and her neighbor, hiding at the counter. “At him!” The guard sitting on the floor, who had already recovered from the blows to the ears, found himself at gunpoint. “Is this what you want?”

The robber was larger than Serret, but not by much, he was holding a combat weapon, and most importantly, he was not very mentally stable, with tones of anguish in his voice.

“No, you won’t shoot, you’ll put the gun on the floor and wait for the police.”

The next few moments were straight out of a movie, with the gun being knocked out of the opponent’s hand, a couple of attacks of the two fighting men, and the angry scream of the criminal as he was thrown to the floor with his hands behind his back. Agent Serret sitting on him ridden piggyback, his wrists cunningly pinned by the knees, preventing him from moving, the white mask lying to the side, next to the gun and the bags of money.