Malcolm Bright

He smiled faintly and slowly unclenched his hand, picking up his spoon and stirring his soup.

"I know. Intellectually, I know that. He would certainly have continued to kill. He loved it. He loved exercising power over life and death. He loved watching the light leave a person's eyes." He took a heavy breath. "And... that's basically what Gil told me the night he arrested my father. He said I was a hero." He shrugged a shoulder. "I didn't feel like one." He looked at Raylan. "They couldn't find the girl. The box was in the basement and it was empty. It was too late. They never did find her."