She knew this was the last evening she should ever see the prince, for whom she had forsaken her kindred and her home; she had given up her beautiful voice, and suffered unheard-of pain daily for him, while he knew nothing of it.
—“The Little Mermaid,” Hans Christian Andersen, translated by H. P. Paull
The following audio files were recovered from Callum Pederson’s iPhone and have been transcribed in full.
CALLUM
“Check, check, one, two, is this working? (playback) Check, check, one, two, is this working? Sweet. (Clears throat.) Detective Callum Pederson here, recording notes for Case B7-221, a.k.a. ‘Princess Killer.’ Lieutenant Chang suggested I switch to voice notes after misplacing my notebook—shit, I’m supposed to do time and date and all that. Dammit. (pause) Thursday, April 23. Left Chaminade High School at 4:45 p.m. after eight missed voice mails from Chang, telling me they’re bringing them down to the station. Now arriving at the Middletown precinct at 5:01 p.m. . . . Oh man. That’s definitely Eric Triton’s car. White Land Rover. And that’s Phillip Aurora’s blue Porsche, license plate BRUHHH. Adam Master’s here too. Whooo . . . this is gonna be a party. My heart rate’s like 180. Shouldn’t have chugged that Red Bull at halftime, but thought I was gonna play a full game before Chang went batshit and blew up my phone. (Clears throat.) Detective Pederson now parking at 5:04 p.m., about to enter the station for suspect questioning . . .”
ERIC
(Door opens.)
ERIC: Dude! They got you in here too?
PEDERSON: Um, depends on who “they” is . . .
ERIC: They put Phillip and Adam in the other rooms. Think I saw Naveen and Flynn too. It’s like they went rounding up Chaminade boys. But you know they’ve gone full-blown psycho when they suspect Callum Pederson as the Princess Killer.
(Door opens.)
ERIC: Mr. Chang? What are you doing here?
CHANG: Sit down, Eric. This is an interview with Eric Triton on Thursday, April 23, at 5:11 p.m. at the Middletown precinct on 16 Cedar. Pederson, you show him the pictures?
PEDERSON: Uh, I thought you had the file.
CHANG: Christ. What are you wearing?
PEDERSON: Had a game. Didn’t think we were questioning them today. Just got here.
ERIC: We?
CHANG: A game, Pederson? We got four murdered girls, posed as fairy-tale princesses, and you’re busy with a lacrosse game?
PEDERSON: You told me to keep cover at all times, like when you stuff your face with Ho Hos in the faculty lounge and flirt with Miss Seldy before eighth period—
CHANG: Score any goals?
PEDERSON: Three, actually.
CHANG: If only those dead girls were there to watch.
PEDERSON: Don’t be a dick.
ERIC: Bro, Callum, what the hell is happening?
CHANG: I’ll get the file. Get him to sit down, at least. Bro.
(Door opens and closes.)
ERIC: Callum! Why is my chemistry teacher here? He’s acting like you and him—
PEDERSON: It’s Detective Pederson.
ERIC: What?
PEDERSON: As long as you’re here, it’s Detective Pederson of the Middletown Police. Chang is my lieutenant. We’ve been undercover at Chaminade, investigating the Princess Killer. We’d like to ask you some questions. I suggest you sit down.
ERIC: You’re a cop. You. Who played Red Dead Redemption till one a.m. at my house last night.
PEDERSON: That game is really addictive.
ERIC: Who pregamed with us before Spring Fling. Who painted his whole body gold with me and Phillip so we could be sports trophies for Spirit Day. Who texts back “hilarious” when Kristoff sends porn on the group chat.
PEDERSON: “Hilarious” seems to be the accepted response to everything.
ERIC: You, who puked in Cheryl Isenhour’s pool last weekend. You’re a cop.
PEDERSON: The spiked punch that they were saying was kombucha? I actually thought it was kombucha.
ERIC: How old are you?
PEDERSON: Twenty-one.
ERIC: Bullshit. Your voice hasn’t even changed. Nice prank, Callum. Who put you up to this? Phillip? Flynn? Is that why they’re here too? (Laughs.) Punked me good.
PEDERSON: I’m in training at the academy. Pulled me on the case as an undercover officer because I looked the part. This isn’t a prank. Girls are dead, and we have questions.
ERIC: Where’s your badge, then?
PEDERSON: In my backpack. My firearm too.
ERIC: What a load of shit.
(Sounds of rustling.)
ERIC: That’s your gun.
PEDERSON: And this is my badge.
ERIC: That loaded?
PEDERSON: I’ll tell you after you sit down.
ERIC: I want a lawyer.
PEDERSON: Did you murder all those girls?
ERIC: Fuck no.
PEDERSON: Then sit down and answer our questions and get out of here. Don’t make shit complicated. Chang hates lawyers almost as much as he hates you.
ERIC: I made one joke in class. Weeks ago. No one cares.
PEDERSON: Putting a Chinese food take-out order on the back of your chemistry test?
ERIC: Can’t arrest me for a joke.
PEDERSON: But he can go off duty before your lawyer gets here, which means your ass stays in jail overnight.
(Eric sits; door opens.)
CHANG: Let’s start with the first victim. Ariana Merced. Slumped over a wooden spinning wheel in an empty warehouse on Chalmers Street, a spindle through her throat. Here, I brought some snacks for you while you stare at photos of her body.
(Sound of food splattering.)
ERIC: What the fuck! On my Supreme shirt!
CHANG: “Kung pao chicken. Beef and brocc.” Exactly what you ordered. Sorry it’s late.
ADAM
CHANG: Official interview with Adam Master, 6:18 p.m. on Thursday, April 23, at the Middletown—
ADAM: I barely knew Ariana. If that’s what you’re asking about.
PEDERSON: You told me you had sex with her. Twice.
CHANG: What? That isn’t in the file.
PEDERSON: It was in the notebook I lost. Forgot to add it to the file.
ADAM: I said I hooked up with her twice. And I told you that man-to-man.
PEDERSON: In the locker room with twenty guys around.
ADAM: So now you’re the hookup police too. Can’t talk about girls I’ve fucked, because there’s cops in our locker room pretending to be midfielders on the lacrosse team.
PEDERSON: So you did have sex with her.
ADAM: Isn’t there some pedophile law against that? Adults hanging with minors at school? Should have known you were a rat when you wrote that gay poem in Miss G.’s class.
PEDERSON: It wasn’t a poem. It was a soliloquy for Hamlet from the grave. And that was the assignment.
CHANG: You forgot to file case notes on a suspect, but you had time to write a speech for a dead Shakespearean prince?
ADAM: Hold on. Callum said I don’t need a lawyer. And now you’re saying I’m a suspect? I’m gonna make a call—
CHANG: Did you text Ariana twenty-eight times after she blocked your number?
(Silence)
ADAM: She stopped talking to me. I wanted to know what was up. That’s all. She wouldn’t answer me and was ignoring me at school.
CHANG: Your last blocked message was sent two days before her murder.
ADAM: How did you see my texts? Don’t you need a warrant for that? (Laughs.) This is horseshit. She was killed March 22, right? I was at Flynn’s house, eating dinner with his folks. And you know that, otherwise you’d be arresting me.