Claire Washburn is introduced. She is San Francisco’s “chief medical examiner” and she seems to be the kind of no nonsense, no frills “I get the job done” kind of person I’ve always liked. In this book the author also makes her Lindsay’s best friend.
There wasn’t much to say about Claire Washburn, except that she was brilliant, totally accomplished, and absolutely my best friend in the world.
Their relationship seems to be pretty close, judging from Lindsay’s perspective, but it’s difficult to really tell with the current unwanted passenger of ex-Captain Raleigh, despite Claire seemingly finding the young man attractive.
I walked ahead with Claire, who pulled me close and whispered, “Let me guess. You gave Jacobi a kiss on the nose, and all of a sudden there was this charming prince.
Perhaps she thinks it’s an improvement over her original partner as Claire is somewhat playful towards him too.
It’s made obvious that if Raleigh hadn’t accompanied her to the morgue, Lindsay would have taken the opportunity to unburden her woes. Instead she has to hold them in.
Claire provides some fascinating information, varying from the bland to the perverse and also shares her own feelings about the case, how uneasy it has made her despite her many years of experience. The killer seems to have defiled Melanie Brandt in an extremely unusual way.
The angry, shocking nature of Melanie Brandt’s death shivered me again. She had been mutilated, defiled.
Why, is part of the story, but it may be that the killer wants to gain a level of infamy. He’s already re-visited the scene of the crime and now it seems he left a clue behind. On purpose perhaps. The question still stands of where Phillip saw Melanie before, to become so bewitched enough to want to commit murder. Twice.
Another of the soon to be formed Club is fighting against a deadline, and hoping to keep her story.
Cindy keeps her cool, hoping that the story won’t get passed over onto the more experienced reporters working for the paper. She does come across as a bit desperate, which makes me wonder how long she has been waiting for an opportunity like this and how often she’s been overlooked to make her so hungry.
I guess it’s a good thing that her editor (Sidney Glass) isn’t so quick to dismiss her at this point in her career, I’m not sure how Cindy would’ve handled the bad news.
Cindy repressed an urge to hug the cranky, domineering editor right on the bull pen floor.
I don’t think Lindsay is warming up to her new partner at all. There feels like a layer of distrust needs to be worked through, and it will take more than Raleigh’s good looks and disarming charm to do it. Lindsay is a hard working detective no matter how rough or flaky her personal life is. She deals in facts and ex-Captain Chris Raleigh would do well to remember that he’s dealing with another cop.
Here it was. The spiel. Packaging, containment. Brandt and Chancellor Weil, the bride’s father, were VIPs. Find us the bad guys, Lindsay. Just don’t put the department at any risk along the way.
She seems to want to cut to the chase but Raleigh wants to protect the departments’ image first and foremost. While Lindsay is already beginning to suspect that this is just the start (of course the reader already knows that).
One-time crime-of-passion killers didn’t leave clues like the jacket. Professionals didn’t, either.
Serials left clues.
When I first wrote my notes on chapter 17 & started spell-checking it, I wasn’t certain if shouldn’t censor my opinions. I’ll admit, in hindsight I sound a bit strong, but I have decided against it and I have chosen to publish my original thoughts in their entirety. As my permanent disclaimer points out, it is not my intention to offend anyone, however, due to my decision I thought it best to add this reminder.
Forewarned is forearmed, as the saying goes.
The new world that Phillip Campbell is in the process of making for himself is a disturbing one.
Already so distanced from his old life, colleagues and whatever friends he might have. I say might, as I’m not sure he is the kind of person who is very friendly towards anyone.
He pushed his business papers to the corner of his desk. This is the old world, he thought. The old me. The bore. The worker bee.
Now, I’m no authority as I haven’t studied psychology, I’m the first to admit that I’m thick, but during my adult life, I’ve maintained that it’s the so-called “normal” people that I should be worried about. You can never be sure what they might be hiding. The so-called “weirdos” and “freaks” of the world may be slightly outside of apparently acceptable social circles but at least you’ve got a decent idea what kind of person they might be. I’ve noticed that the majority of these kinds of folk don’t try to hide anything, are comfortable in their own bodies, and even brazen about their identity.
Have you noticed how the serial killers of our world are nearly always described in the media as the “normal person next door who kept to him/herself; always nice, quiet and polite “?
I don’t ever want to be classified and labelled as “normal“, plus, it feels too much like an insult. What’s wrong with accepting and celebrating being unique anyhow? Being unique does not equate weird, boring or normal. Guess you can tell I’m not big on labels and constraints.
Back to the worker bee. That description I mentioned? I’m betting it fits Mr. Campbell perfectly.
He defines his old self as “the bore”, and I’m betting he’s the kind of “normal” that gets overlooked and ignored in every day life. He blends into the background noise of our lives, just another face in the sea of humanity. The perfect place from which to hunt from.
Plans have been made; he has a collection of index cards containing other names, other lives and other futures to destroy but to what end, assuming their is an ulterior motive.
Just how long has he been planning?