All Chapters of The Killer Who Found Me : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

She opened it.I will not describe what I saw. Because what I saw was not the object. What I saw was a woman’s face, in the lamp light of her own living room, watching a man who had broken her door down take in a piece of her interior life, and not ruin it.I had here is the sentence I did not let myself form at the time already, at that moment, made a quiet, unspoken decision about the remainder of Derek Calloway’s life, and the calculus that produced it did not involve the original harm-math of his file.I was going to do what I had come to do.And I was going to do it, tonight, because what I was looking at across this coffee table was a woman whose capacity to still hold that object, after three years of a man like Derek, was the most extraordinary thing I had encountered in a very long time.She closed the box when I told her to.I called Derek out of the kitchen.I said the sentence I had improvised about what was going to be taken from him. I said it because I wanted him to bel

Marcus POVFaraz dropped me at the house at six-forty-one AM.I had not slept. I do not, in operational windows, sleep I have a body trained, across four years and twenty kills, to absorb a single night of deep concentration without immediate consequence and to compensate the next night with a long forced unconsciousness pharmacologically assisted if necessary. I had taken nothing. I would not. The body would handle Wednesday the way the body had been built to handle Wednesdays.What the body had not been built to handle was the specific quality of the morning I walked through to my front door.The street was Brooklyn Heights at first light. The sky over the river was beginning to thin from the steel of pre-dawn into the pewter of an actual cold November day.There was a man walking a dog two doors down. A woman with a stroller across the street. The specific beginning of an ordinary Wednesday morning in a wealthy neighborhood, and I was walking up the steps of my house at six forty-o

Saoirse POV The tulips were on my stoop on a Thursday.I had come back to the apartment for a job a small framed Hockney drawing a client in Brooklyn Heights needed moved to a conservator in Long Island City, and my apartment was on the route, and I had a habit, since the night, of stopping at the apartment whenever a job took me near it, to check the mail and confirm the door and remind the building that the tenant in 2R still existed.I came up the block at two in the afternoon.I saw them from twenty feet away.White tulips. A small loose bunch, unwrapped, lying across the third step of my stoop the way a thing is laid down by a person who does not want it to look arranged. Not in a vase. Not in florist paper. Just the stems, bare, the way you would carry flowers you had bought loose from a bucket on a sidewalk.I stopped on the sidewalk.I did not go up the steps.I stood and I looked at them for a while.──Here is what I knew, standing on the sidewalk.I knew that I bought mys

Saoirse POVI signed the lease on the apartment in Ditmas Park on a Tuesday.One bedroom, second floor of a brick building on a street with old trees, the kind of Brooklyn street that still has front yards and screened porches and a quality of quiet that exists in only a few neighborhoods this deep into the borough. The rent was more than I should have spent. I spent it anyway. I had eight thousand dollars in an account Derek had never logged into and a business that was, despite everything, still running, and I had decided in the specific way you decide a thing when you have spent three years not being allowed to decide anything that I was going to live somewhere with trees.Siobhán helped me move.She came on the Saturday with a thermos of tea and a roll of shelf liner and the particular energy of a woman who had been waiting, for a long time, to help her daughter carry boxes up the stairs of a place that was her own. We did not talk much. We did the work. She lined the kitchen shel

Marcus POV I read Detective Reyes’s interview notes on Wednesday evening.I want to be specific about the access, because the access is the kind of thing a person should be uncomfortable with. Arbitr AI has an enterprise contract with the NYPD that processes case data through our threat-classification models. The contract requires read access to a limited set of case fields. I had, several years ago, quietly expanded the read access at the platform level beyond the contractual specification, in a way that would be very difficult to detect without an internal source-code audit of a portion of the codebase nobody had reason to audit. The expansion did not change what the NYPD believed I could see. It changed what I could see.I could see Reyes’s notes within an hour of her uploading them.The notes were exactly what I had hoped they would be. Reyes had recorded the three sentences. She had recorded Saoirse’s answer to the unscripted question *Yes. I never reported it. Most people don’t