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"We're going to make a special visit to Ebenshire. Specifically, a permanent occupant in D block cell, I think, twenty somethin'," Rocky said.

Harris grimaced as he burnt his tongue on his coffee, having been emboldened by his previous sip. Rocky's words sank in, and Harris looked puzzled, then confused, and finally settled on annoyed. "Kelley? Wallace Kelley? You think he inspired a copycat?" Harris gingerly smoothed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"I think Kelley inspired Kelley."

Harris started to speak, caught himself, and rubbed his eyes. Rocky toed the grate he stood on with the rubber sole of his shoe. His leg felt numb from the cramped ride over.

"Ok, first, Kelley's MO was always young men, but only a single individual, never pairs, and the way he positioned them was, well, dammit I don't wanna say artistic but not something simple like this. But, and here's the real problem here," Harris lifted three fingers off his coffee to point with them for dramatic emphasis, "Kelley has been in a fucking cement cube for at least a decade now."

"I didn't say that Wallace did it. I said that he inspired Kelley. A Kelley. Look at our victims again. Green eyes. Cleft chins. Ring fingers longer than index fingers. Moles just behind the hairlines of both men."

"You think they're related?"

"Closely related."

"Ok, but what does that mean for the killer and Kelley?"

"They're related. Closely related."