The Echo Killer

The first murder happened in 1978. At least, that's when the body was found. A jazz singer named Lila Rose, strangled in her dressing room at the Blue Note club. The case went cold, filed away with thousands of other unsolved homicides from that era.

The second murder occurred in 1985. Another singer, another dressing room, same MO. Cold case.

The third in 1992. Cold case.

Detective Miles Kaito only noticed the pattern because of his insomnia. Browsing digital archives at 3 AM, he saw the connection no one else had spotted. Three female jazz singers, all strangled with a silk scarf, all in dressing rooms, all seven years apart.

The problem was the math. If the pattern held, the next murder should have been in 1999. But there was no corresponding case. Kaito dug deeper, cross-referging every female vocalist death in the state. Nothing.

Then he found her. Not dead, but terrified. Elara Vance, a rising star in the retro-jazz scene, had reported an attempted abduction outside a club two weeks earlier. The date? October 14, 1999. The attacker had gotten away. She'd described his scent—old spice and mothballs.

Kaito's blood ran cold. The pattern wasn't broken. The killer had failed in 1999. Which meant...

He did the math. 1999 + 7 = 2006. He searched the database. Nothing. 2006 + 7 = 2013. Nothing. 2013 + 7 = 2020.

The present year.

Elara Vance was now a legendary singer, playing a sold-out show at the Paramount Theater next week. The date? October 14.

Kaito tried to get protection for her, but his theory was met with skepticism. "You want me to approve overtime based on forty-year-old cold cases and a failed abduction from twenty years ago?" his captain asked.

So Kaito worked alone. He studied the old cases, noticing something everyone had missed. Each victim had recorded a song called "Midnight Echoes" shortly before their death. Elara Vance had just released a new version of the same song.

The killer wasn't just targeting singers. He was targeting a specific song.

The night of the concert, Kaito positioned himself backstage. Elara was nervous, clutching a silk scarf—a gift from an "admirer" that had been delivered to her dressing room.

"Don't touch that," Kaito said, taking the scarf with gloved hands. It smelled of old spice and mothballs.

The show went on without incident. Elara sang "Midnight Echoes" to a standing ovation. Back in her dressing room, she thanked Kaito. "I guess you were wrong."

But Kaito knew he wasn't. The killer was here. He could feel it.

Then the power went out.

In the darkness, Kaito heard a struggle. He drew his weapon, using his phone as a flashlight. Elara was fighting with an elderly man in the hallway. A man who moved with surprising strength despite his age.

Kaito tackled him. The man didn't resist. Up close, he smelled strongly of old spice and mothballs.

In interrogation, the man was calm. "His name was Leo," he said. "My brother. A brilliant musician. He wrote 'Midnight Echoes' for Lila Rose in 1978. She stole it, claimed it as her own. It broke him. He jumped from a bridge the night she debuted it."

The old man's eyes were distant. "The others... they profited from his song. They made fortunes while his name was forgotten. I couldn't let Elara do the same."

"So you've been killing singers for forty years?" Kaito asked.

"Not killing," the man corrected. "Correcting. Preserving his legacy. Every seven years, on the anniversary of his death, when someone sings his stolen song... I make sure they don't profit from it."

The case was closed, but Kaito couldn't shake the feeling of tragedy. Not just for the victims, but for the broken old man still fighting his brother's battle four decades later, trapped in an endless echo of grief and revenge.

Sometimes, Kaito would hear "Midnight Echoes" playing in a cafe or from a passing car. And he'd remember that some murders don't just take a life—they steal years, haunting everyone they touch with a melody that never quite ends.