The Disappearance of Stephanie Mailer: A gripping new thriller with a killer twist by Joël Dicker (ebook reader play store .txt) 📕

“It’s as if everything’s cursed,” Derek said.

DEREK SCOTT

November 12, 1994. One month after our terrifying car accident, I received the medal of valor. In the gymnasium at troop headquarters, in front of an audience of police officers, officials, journalists, and guests, I was decorated by the head of the State Police. He had made the journey for the occasion.

Standing on the platform, one arm in a sling, I kept my head down. I didn’t want that medal, I didn’t want the ceremony, but Major McKenna had assured me that a refusal on my part would not be well received by my superiors.

Jesse was at the back of the room. Keeping a low profile. He didn’t want to sit in the seat that had been reserved for him in the front row. He seemed beaten. I couldn’t even look at him.

After a long speech, the head of the State Police approached and solemnly put a medal around my neck, declaring: “Sergeant Derek Scott, for your bravery in the exercise of your duty, and for saving a life while endangering your own, I bestow this decoration on you. You are an example to your fellow officers.”

Once the medal had been awarded, he saluted me in military style, and the brass band struck up a triumphal march.

I remained impassive, my gaze fixed. Suddenly, I saw that Jesse was crying and I was unable to hold back my tears either. I came down off the platform and made my way to the cloakrooms. I tore the medal from my neck and threw it angrily to the ground. Then I collapsed on a bench and sobbed.

JESSE ROSENBERG

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Three days after opening night

This was the last great turning point in the case.

The murder weapon from 1994, which had never been found, had showed up again. The weapon that had been used to murder the Gordon family and Meghan Padalin had now been used to silence Carolina. This meant that Stephanie Mailer had likely been right: Ted Tennenbaum had not murdered either the Gordon family or Meghan Padalin.

That morning, at troop headquarters, the major summoned Derek and me, in the presence of the assistant D.A.

“I’m going to have to advise Sylvia Tennenbaum of the situation,” he said. “The D.A.’s office will start a procedure. I wanted you to be warned.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said. “We understand.”

“Sylvia Tennenbaum might decide to take action not only against the police as a whole,” the assistant D.A. said, “but against the two of you.”

“Whether or not he was guilty of those murders, Ted Tennenbaum was involved in a fatal car chase with the police, which would not have happened if he’d stopped when ordered to.”

“But Sergeant Scott deliberately rammed his vehicle and pushed him off the bridge,” the assistant D.A. said.

“We were trying to intercept him!” Derek said.

“There were other ways.”

“Oh, yes? What other ways? If you’re such an expert on car chases, tell me what other ways?”

“We’re not here to blame you,” the major assured us. “I took another look at the file. Everything pointed to Tennenbaum. There was the fact that his van was spotted at the crime scene a few minutes before the murders, the fact that he had a motive in the financial pressure being put on him by the mayor, confirmed in his bank statements, the fact that he purchased a gun of the same kind used in the murders, and the fact that he was a good shot. The evidence pointed only to him!”

I sighed. “And yet all that evidence has since been pulled to pieces.”

“I know that, Jesse. But anyone would have gotten it wrong. You’re not guilty of anything. Unfortunately, I’m afraid Sylvia Tennenbaum won’t be satisfied with that explanation, and will do everything she can to obtain compensation.”

We had come full circle in our investigation. In 1994, whoever had killed Meghan Padalin had also eliminated the Gordons as unwitting witnesses. Because Derek and I had followed the wrong lead about the Gordons and the weight of evidence convinced us of Tennenbaum’s guilt, the real murderer had been sleeping easy these past twenty years. That was until Stephanie Mailer reopened the case at the instigation of Meta Ostrovski, who had always had his doubts, having himself seen that it was not Tennenbaum at the wheel of his van. Now that all avenues of inquiry were converging on him, the killer was eliminating those who might unmask him. He had started with the Gordons, and gone on to eliminate Stephanie, then Springfield, before trying to silence Carolina. The killer was right there, in front of our eyes, within reach. We had to act intelligently and quickly.

Once our conversation with Major McKenna was over, we took advantage of the fact that we were at troop headquarters to drop into the office of Dr Ranjit Singh, the medical examiner, who was also an expert criminal profiler. He had looked at the case file to help us flesh out the killer’s personality.

“I was able to make a study of all the recorded elements of the investigation,” he told us. “First of all, I think you’re dealing with a male. Statistically, the probability of a woman being murdered by another woman is barely two percent. But in our case, there are more concrete factors: that impulsive side to the killer, the way he broke down the Gordons’ door and murdered a whole family. And then the way he drowned Stephanie Mailer in the lake, and smashed Cody Springfield’s skull. Violence of this kind is overwhelmingly seen in men. As I saw in the file, back then my predecessors also thought it was a man.”

“So it can’t have been a woman?” I said.

“It cannot be ruled out, Captain. There have been cases where the profile pointed to a man and the culprit turned out to be a woman. But the impression I get from the file makes me lean confidently toward a man.