Rodrigo had also told him, at age eleven, that it was normal curiosity when he’d been caught peeping through windows. He’d watched his neighbor shower and a classmate change her clothing; nothing too depraved. Someone eventually called the police on him and his dad had given him a black eye for his actions. The shame he’d felt had been overwhelming. But Rodrigo had convinced him that his desire to watch was something he was entitled to, that women were there solely to serve and arouse. He’d also been lucky to have Frank, an older brother he could share deviant thoughts with. Frank’s intensity had scared him at times, but it had also comforted him. He’d felt a kinship from the very beginning. Even if their desires were different, their objective was the same: ridding the world of women who didn’t fulfill their proper role in society. Frank always wanted to be hands-on, whereas Jack preferred to watch from the sidelines. This, of course, made them the perfect match.

Jack scanned over the rest of the photos lining the wall, spanning the years. His favorite one was of him and Frank after the first abduction he’d helped with. Frank had come to him and confessed what he’d been doing. He’d opened up about his failed kidnapping attempt and asked for help. Frank knew that he was smart, good with technology and that times were changing. His methods also needed to change. So, like a good brother, he’d done his part, coming up with and facilitating an idea that even he had to admit, was so clever they probably never would have figured it out if Frank hadn’t kept all those damned tapes and DVDs. The excitement they’d both felt when the women actually plugged in the fake Neilson boxes and transmitted images into his basement was clear on their faces in the photo. They’d been so triumphant that day. Frank hadn’t been interested in watching beyond tracking the women’s movements, but for him, being able to watch the pairs, even those who weren’t selected, gave him a continued source of exhilaration.

The rest of the photos on the wall showed each new celebration, each new accomplishment, every step of progress in their mission. The last photo was of them just days after number 22 and 23’s bodies were discovered, and the police still had no leads. Frank’s huge smile tugged at Jack’s heart. He missed his brother. He was sad he wouldn’t be adding more photos of the two of them to the wall. Next to the photos, in a large gilded frame, was their mission statement – their manifesto – printed on the best paper he could find. He read the words every day, words passed down to them from Rodrigo like a mantra.