I Hunt Killers

“Jazz had been seeing those for as long as he could remember, thanks to Dear Old Dad. For Dear Old Dad, Take Your Son to Work Day was year-round. Jazz had witnessed crime scenes the way cops wished they could— from the criminal’s point of view.”

With a serial killer for a father, Jazz has been exposed to crime scenes and all that goes along with them from a very young age: dead bodies, weapons, blood, and gore. For Jazz, his father often killed victims in their home, which is why Jazz calls “Take Your Son to Work Day” as a “year-round” occurrence. Jazz refers to his father sarcastically as “Dear Old Dad,” drawing attention to how his dad was not the stereotypical, all-American example of a father.

“Jazz was afraid of two things in the world, and two things only. One of them was that people thought that his upbringing meant that he was cursed by nature, nurture, and predestination to be a serial killer like his father. The second thing…was that they were right.” 

In Chapter 2, Jazz introduces one of the central questions of the book: Will he turn out like his father? This quotation lays bare Jazz’s biggest fears that the people of Lobo’s Nod think he is fated to become a serial killer. Although he does his best to suppress any sort of violent compulsion, Jazz does have some urges that he cannot seem to control. These urges reinforce his second fear that the people are, indeed, right about his fate. 

“‘People matter,’ he whispered to himself. ‘People matter. People are real. Remember Bobby Joe Long. His personal mantra whispered every morning. A reminder. His own magic spell, casting a shield against his own evil.” 

Jazz is a conflicted character. On the one hand, he is torn between all the morbid curiosities borne from his upbringing; on the other, he desires to be a normal human being. To counteract the lessons instilled by his psychopathic father, who cared little for human life, Jazz’s personal mantra works against that. 

“There were times when he was afraid that he would see Billy staring back from the mirror, and this was one of those times. No. Afraid was the wrong word to use. Jazz wasn’t afraid—he was convinced.”

One of the major themes the author explores in I Hunt Killers is the extent to which nature (our genetics), nurture (how we were raised), and fate (another, unknowable factor) shape a person’s destiny. Jazz’s unique background—as the son of a notorious serial killer who was explicitly trained in his tactics—provides numerous avenues into this question. One of Jazz’s biggest fears is that he is going to turn out exactly like his father.

“Jazz could read people, and he had a pretty good suspicion that Albert Gomez entertained some R-rated—at the very least—fantasies about the girls in his class.” 

Jazz is never “off”—that is, the skills that he acquired under his father’s tutelage are with him at all times. In this instance, Jazz sizes his pedophilic teacher in an instant. He knows what to say to disarm Gomez and to get him to leave Jazz and Connie alone. Instances like these develop Jazz’s character as someone infused with his father’s teachings and the sort of person highly skilled at manipulation.

“He would always feel guilty. He hadn’t been able to protect his own mother. He hadn’t been able to help that kid, the one at the drugstore who’d collapsed at his feet. He should have killed Billy in his sleep years ago.” 

It is unclear at this point if Jazz’s mother is dead or if she is just missing. Regardless, Jazz feels overwhelmed with guilt at her memory. The irony is that, to get rid of Billy, Jazz would have to kill, which would make him even more like his father. This conundrum is seen over and over again for Jazz throughout the book.

“The paper held the Impressionist’s instructions. They were sacred to him. No matter how well he knew those instructions, he would never throw away that paper.” 

The novel strategically switches perspective to build suspense. In the chapters written from the Impressionist’s perspective, the reader knows that the killer is one step ahead of Jazz. It also introduces new mysteries, such as the “instructions” mentioned here.

“The dice had already been tossed, the cards shuffled and drawn. He was what he was, whether he knew it yet or not. Maybe he was just a guy with a crazy dad, like other kids with crazy dads. Or maybe he was something else.” 

As this quotation implies, with its gambling imagery, whether Jazz turns out normal is largely a matter of chance. Although he had an unusual and difficult childhood as the son of Billy Dent, there are plenty of people with “crazy” parents that are able to lead normal lives. This passage concludes Chapter 11, leaving the reader questioning which way Jazz has turned out.

“‘Excellent!’ He smiled at her and even dropped a friendly wink, then refolded the paper and returned it to his pocket. ‘I’m going to pull down your gag now and take that nasty rag out of your mouth. I’m not going to do that thing where I say, ‘Don’t scream or you’ll be sorry.’ Because you know what, Helen? You go ahead and scream if you want to. It won’t bother me at all, and no one will hear you, so I don’t care. So if it makes you feel better you just go ahead and do it.’”

Chapter 13 marks the first time in the narrative the reader sees the Impressionist commit a crime. In this scene, we see him toying with his victim, Helen, allowing her to think she may be safe. He takes his time and is not worried that anyone will catch him, so he allows her to scream. The reader gets the sense that the Impressionist is particularly sadistic. 

“Oh my God. I was right. Jazz was too shocked to say anything for a moment, and then he wondered if G. William would take his silence for guilt. ‘I didn’t do this,’ he blurted out. ‘It wasn’t me.’” 

Guilt is a major theme in I Hunt Killers. Jazz knows that the citizens of Lobo’s Nod think that he is evil; and sometimes, even Jazz questions what kind of deviousness he might be capable of. At this point in the novel, the reader is also still questioning if Jazz has the potential to be the killer. Everyone is suspect. He also has “guilty knowledge,” which is things only the killer would know, so of course the police may suspect him.

“‘No one’s carrying six-guns,’ Jazz told him. He didn’t even have to look over; he knew Howie’s expression would be crestfallen. ‘But I need to do this. I need to prove that I can do more than just mess up people with what Billy taught me. I can do some good with it, too.’” 

Howie jokes that he and Jazz will find the killer with ‘six-guns’ blazing, but Jazz corrects him, saying that it is not a matter of machismo. Jazz’s drive to find the killer has a higher purpose: to help him atone for the sins of his father. This quotation supports the idea that Jazz’s curse—the knowledge of serial killing—is also a blessing because it allows him to see the world as serial killers do, in an effort to stop their crimes. 

“During his phase as the Artist, Billy had posed his victims. For his fourth victim, he’d posed her like Cupid drawing a bow, matching her initials—V.D.—to Valentine’s Day. Billy’s first dozen or so killings had all taken place before Jazz was born, so he didn’t know why Billy had done this. Probably one more in a highly successful string of distracting tactics that had kept the cops off his trail for decades.” 

Billy is such a prolific serial killer that he went through “phases” throughout the course of his killing career. This passage describes the period in which Billy created highly stylized poses for the corpses of his victims. Knowing that the Impressionist is a copycat of Billy, this description is a tactic at foreshadowing what the Impressionist will do next.

“Then she stood in the kitchen, screaming out the window at the forlorn, lonesome birdbath, berating it for not attracting any birds. ‘You’re a pathetic excuse for a birdbath!’ she yelled. ‘I’ve seen birdbaths with dozens of birds, hundreds of birds, thousands of birds. You shouldn’t even call yourself a birdbath! You’re a bird-repellent. Why do you hate birds?’” 

This passage is typical of the sort of nonsense rants that characterize Gramma Dent’s personality. She is aggressive and angry. This particular rant occurs just after Melissa Hoover announces that Jazz needs to be placed in foster care, which ironically underscores that this was the correct assessment. The scene also draws attention to the birdbath, which comes into the play after Jazz strikes a deal with his father at the prison.

“Serial killers often went to the funerals and memorials of their victims, Jazz knew. Billy had done so on more than one occasion, always taking care to be in disguise.”

At the candlelight vigil for Ginny, the slain drama teacher, Jazz makes this observation that the perpetrator will often attend the funeral/memorial of the victim. It follows, then, that anyone attending the vigil for Ginny is a possible suspect. Deputy Erickson, Doug Weathers, Jeff Fulton, and Jazz himself are all present, building suspense and intrigue around which of the characters the culprit might be.

“To his son, he had been a god. A war god, a god of love, the two of them intertwined in a sick hybrid. Billy Dent excelled at alternating brute force with tender love, then blending the two together until Jazz thought that being forced to mop up blood spatter was just a natural way to show love to his dad.”

Jazz does not regard his father with pure hatred or pure disgust. His feeling toward his father is a complex mixture of conflicting emotions, both love and hate. The powerful bond between father and son is underscored in this passage. 

“He produced a smile that—to anyone else—would have seemed full of genuine warmth. Jazz remembered it from the night Billy had shown him how to saw through a knee joint in under five minutes.” 

This moment captures the contradictions of Billy’s character, as father and cold-blooded killer. On the one hand, he is “full of genuine warmth” and fatherly ambitions, such as teaching his son (at least in Billy’s mind) a useful skill. On the other, the obvious fact that what Billy deems a “useful skill” is highly immoral.

“Too late, Jazz tried to keep his spine from stiffening at the comment, but he’d reacted already, and Billy had seen it, had seen that he’d crawled right under Jazz’s skin.” 

Chapter 30 is a climactic scene, in which Jazz sees his father face-to-face for the first time in nearly four years. As Jazz notes before Billy is brought into the room, the worst harm Billy can inflict upon Jazz is psychological. As a master manipulator, Billy can read people from the smallest tells. Jazz, who also has this skill, knows that even an imperceptible stiffening of his body will show to Billy that he has affected Jazz. 

“‘What’s interesting is that you ain’t tellin’ me the whole truth. You ain’t doin’ this to help the cops. You’re doing this for you. To figure yourself out. To see what makes you tick.’” 

Jazz tells his father that he is trying to catch the Impressionist because he wants to help the police. Billy, however, senses a truth that Jazz may not even realize just yet: hunting the Impressionist will help Jazz learn more about who he is. This is an example of how Billy’s ability to read people’s emotions so well makes him virtually able to read their minds.

“‘More important, Jasper, you’re doing this because you have to. Dog gotta hung, son. You go find yourself a three-legged bird dog and then take it out hunting and you watch it fall over trying to point out the bird. It’ll happen every time, damn sure. You’re a hunter, born and bred. You got the scent, you want your prey, boy. You want to go prospecting. You need it.’”

Billy is from an impoverished, rural background. His manner of speech is often folksy, peppered with country aphorisms and improper grammar. In his folksy way, as we see here with his extended metaphor about a “three-legged bird dog,” Billy gives Jazz—perhaps unwanted—insight into his character.

“‘Sure you are. You just ain’t killed no one yet.’” 

Jazz stands up to his father and tells him directly that he is not like Billy and is not a killer. Billy casually disagrees with him, saying that of course he is. Here, Billy’s definition of “killer” does not revolve around the action of killing. As Billy defines it, it is a more amorphous characteristic that has more to do with Jazz’s inner character and desires.

“‘Tell me,’ Jazz said tonelessly. But inside, his heart pounded at the idea of being psychoanalyzed by the man who knew him best.” 

In Chapters 30 and 31, the dramatic tension revolves around Billy’s expert powers of manipulation. At times, Jazz feels as though Billy is reading his mind; and indeed, Billy often anticipates the things Jazz says before he says it. Jazz “tonelessly” tries to conceal his emotions, to no avail. 

“‘He,’ he said, slightly annoyed, but also—in an odd way—grateful. ‘I was just thinking about you.’” 

This is the last moment before the identity of the Impressionist is revealed. The author uses a series of brief, two-page chapters to draw out the suspense. That Jazz is “grateful” in this moment has double meaning. He is grateful to see Jeff Fulton to assuage his guilt, but—as he is soon to find out—he is grateful to finally have the Impressionist within reach.

“‘No,’ Jazz whispered. There was still a very dark, very disturbed, and very real part of him that wanted his grandmother dead, but he would be damned if he would let this man force him to do it. He would be damned if he would allow it to happen like this. ‘I won’t.’” 

The conundrum for Jazz is that, in many ways, he does share personality traits with his father. In this instance, Jazz admits to having that “very dark, very disturbed” thought at times that he would not mind seeing Gramma Dent dead. However, as evidenced here, Jazz is determined to steer his life into a more positive direction. Even if he does want his grandmother dead, he will not allow himself to be forced by the Impressionist into killing her.