A name and an address. Jason scooped it up and saw the photograph was not of a person, but an X-ray of her teeth. “That’s fantastic.”
Actually, it was more than a little awful, but still,
fantastic
.
“Well … not for her family. Didn’t you say that her daughter hadn’t been able to get ahold of her and reported her missing?” Reubens slipped his hands into the pockets of his lab coat. “I have to confess I don’t envy you that visit.”
A sobering thought, but Jason already knew MacIntosh would be better at that than he could ever dream of being, so he’d just stand around looking sympathetic and keep his mouth shut. He was great at talking to people who didn’t want to talk to him, but not in that sort of setting. No one would argue he just wasn’t the hand-holding type.
“No offense, but there’s quite a lot about your job I don’t envy either. I meant we have a solid lead and this will only help.”
“Sorry I couldn’t respond to the scene last night.” Reubens looked slightly discomforted. “I was at least an hour north of the city having dinner with a friend. Besides, Dr. Courtney is competent. It would have taken me too long to get there and you all would have been stuck standing around. I called him in and he was free.”
“No problem.”
“Keep me in the loop.” Reubens flashed him a rueful smile. “I guess I’m off to the morgue, where apparently a jigsaw puzzle is waiting. That isn’t, by the way, the easiest kind of autopsy. Any sign the corpse was dismembered on scene? I have my deputy’s notes, but quite frankly, haven’t had a lot of time to read over them. I’ve been working on identifying Ms. Blake and there is a lot of paperwork that goes along with this many bodies coming in. I did want to deliver it personally.”
“We think it was done somewhere else after using luminal to discern if there was a splatter pattern, but forensics can give you better data. As usual, the scene was disturbed by the fire and the water to put it out, but there just wasn’t enough blood if you ask me. We didn’t find any kind of axe or whatever it is you would use—”
“Bone saw.” Reubens nodded sagely. “I haven’t yet taken the measurements or started my true examination, but I can already tell you that much. Clean cuts. He had at least some idea of what he was doing when he dismembered her.”
“Delightful,” Jason muttered. “Your reports are always my favorites. Bone saw? That’s just disgusting.”
Reubens adjusted his glasses. “I aim to please, or at least to inform, however the information is used. Grasso is going to be helping?”
“Hot damn. News spreads fast around here.”
“For whatever it’s worth, I like him. Grasso. I don’t know him well, but I like him.”
Actually, so did he. Like Grasso, that is. Jason drew in a contemplative breath and exhaled. “He’s pretty good. I don’t mind him so much. The others muscling in on this, I’m not sure of, but I don’t get a say in it. DCI is here and will be until we catch our killer. I didn’t see the FBI profiler giving me a lot I could use. He made sense, but then again, I’m just not sure I couldn’t have come to those conclusions all on my own.”
“Montoya, isn’t it? I didn’t sit in, but there was no reason for me to be there. What did he say?”
Jason had been thinking about it all day—and all night, which made him pathetic, but now that he slept alone, there wasn’t a lot to do in the dark except think. “Guy is a loner, but most of them are. He’s not really serial, or that is what I got from it, but has an agenda he wants to satisfy, something we don’t quite understand. That it might be now or never, because if we don’t get him, he might be done.”
“I thought that usually that wasn’t the pattern.” Reubens looked interested in his usual abstract scientific way. “That once they got out of control, they hunted until they were caught.”
“Except the ones we never get, the ones who are too fucking weird for us to even guess their next move and who quit killing, and let’s not even talk about the really smart ones who just disappear.”
“Any idea of what species this one might be?”
“The latter,” Jason said and he meant it, getting to his feet. “Thanks for this. MacIntosh needs to hear it, and as I understand it, we’ll need to spread it around to everyone at the meeting tomorrow, but you have given us a
name
. We also have an eyewitness that can probably ID him. That’s huge.”
“Is it? With only a probably? I don’t understand. For whatever reason, I thought someone told me they came face-to-face.”
“The deputy really didn’t get that great a look at him. It takes a pretty cool head to stay just far enough back when you come face-to-face with a police officer during the commission of both murder and arson. Our suspect has a cool head.”
“Like you said, the murder was probably already done.”
He thought so as well. “Much easier to transport parts than an entire body.”
“Good luck, Detective. Let me know if I can help in any way.”
“Oh, trust me, you’ll hear from me.”
On a note of levity, Reubens said as he walked away, “If only I did trust you.”
Outside a rumble of thunder lent a stage prop background to the conversation. Unfortunately Ellie wasn’t at her desk. Jason pressed a button on his phone and she picked up on the second ring. He said, “Where the hell are you? We have an ID.”
“I’m in records … No shit? On what?”
“I must be rubbing off on you, and yes. Dr. R came through. Victim.”
There was a short pause, and then answered in a neutral voice, “You aren’t rubbing off on me, it’s the case. Tell me what he said.”
“You said shit.”
“Don’t feel you can take credit for it. It is not the first time the word has crossed my lips. It just doesn’t happen every five seconds. Come on, what?”
“Fourth victim. He figured out who she was from the missing person report you caught as a red flag. Not the one we talked about, but the other one. We need to go look into this and question the family, friends, neighbors, you got it.”
“Reubens is sure?’
“Of course. This particular medical examiner doesn’t often approach with maybes. You know that, MacIntosh. He’s sure.”
There was a short silence, then she said quietly, “I know he doesn’t … but a family visit? Oh God. I hate those.”
Went without saying. The most hard-core officer on the force hated them.
He played an unfair card. “I could do it alone, but—”
“Don’t.” Her voice was crisp and certain. “Please don’t. I’ll be right there to discuss the details.”
The sudden termination of the call didn’t surprise him.
* * *
Elizabeth
Blake’s daughter
lived in a very conservative older neighborhood, and when they pulled up, DCI was already there in an unmarked car, waiting at the curb. The lead of the forensics unit was a familiar face. Ellie had met him before. He stepped out with an apologetic cough. “Detective. Fancy seeing you here. I think we met last up north.”
“Hi, Jessup. It’s been a few months.”
The DCI tech nodded. “Can you get us keys? We need to process her house as quickly as possible but we’ll wait while you talk to her family. Sorry we got here first but we really just arrived a few minutes ago.”
That was fast. No doubt the task force at work. She still wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about it, but in the end, God knew they could use the help.
It was a quiet street with huge mature trees, slightly tilted sidewalks, and someone was mowing his lawn despite the stifling heat. “I’ll get you keys if they have them, and permission.” She glanced at the house and squared her shoulders. “This isn’t my favorite part of the job.”
Jessup said soberly, “Can’t blame you there.”
Santiago led the way, both of them climbing the steps to the front porch, and before they could knock, the door was opened by a young woman with a tear-stained face, her mouth trembling. She had long dark hair and wore a maternity top, which made it all worse somehow, though how it could
get
worse was a mystery considering what they had to tell her. “You’re the police, right?”
Ellie palmed out her badge. “Yes.”
“What’s happened to her? Oh God…”
“Can we go in so you can sit down?”
The young woman nodded, her hand over her mouth, not quite stifling the sobs.
There were some things a person just didn’t have to say out loud. Ellie followed her in, taking her elbow and leading her to a small plaid couch flanked by two end tables with cheerful artificial flowers in pink vases. The floor was littered with toys, and a chubby little boy of about three glanced up curiously, but then went back to playing with a set of small cows and pigs and a miniature barn.
“Mrs. Halston, is there someone you can call?” Ellie asked it softly, fairly sure a child that young wouldn’t understand the conversation but surely would not miss out on his mother’s distress. “A friend? Your husband?”
“Could you just tell me?” she whispered, nodding, her voice barely audible. “I’ll call my aunt, my mother’s sister … she’s so worried too.”
“Then maybe someone else,” Ellie said quietly. “I don’t want to have to tell you this, but your mother has been identified positively as one of the victims in a recent series of homicides that you have probably heard about on the news. I think someone less involved might be better. Is there a friend who can help you out? I hate to do this now, but we really need to ask you some questions.”
Tears spilled over, wetting her cheeks. “I knew something was wrong … I knew it. We talk every single day but she hasn’t been home, won’t answer her phone…” The young woman got up and groped her way past the coffee table. “I can’t … talk right now … just give me a minute…”
Alarmed, Ellie got to her feet.
“Just need to throw up … can you watch him for a second … please?” She ran from the room.
“Hey, buddy.” Santiago crouched down next to the child, wagged a small cow at him, and opened the door to the barn. A cow mooed in response, and the little boy laughed.
Death and laughter. She might never get used to this job. Cross-legged, her partner played with the little boy with a certain energy that spoke to her that he wasn’t indifferent to the situation either.
Fifteen minutes later the husband was home, his arm around his very pale wife. Someone had arrived to take the little boy away, diaper bag and all; a nervous-looking young woman who grabbed up the child, stammered her name, and departed with all due speed. The delay chafed under the circumstances, but Ellie wasn’t sure that it was possible to interrupt someone vomiting in the bathroom because her mother had been killed by a serial killer and demand she reschedule the process.
“Tell us what happened.” The husband, whose name was John, wore a blue-collar factory shirt with a logo on the pocket, and his curly reddish hair was a riotous mess from the humidity. He was slightly untidy, on the pudgy side, and seemed truly upset. “Is my mother-in-law really dead? We knew something was wrong, but of course, we hoped … well, we hoped, that’s all.”
“She is,” Santiago said frankly, obviously more comfortable talking to a male than to a half-hysterical pregnant woman. “And if you’ve been paying attention to the news, she isn’t the first one. We are trying to link the crimes. Did she know any of these people?” He handed over a slip of paper with the names of Reverend Cameron, Robert Jarvis, Helton, the landlord, and they’d specifically added Lisa Martin.
“I don’t know who she knew … Babe?”
Connie Halston stared at it, but Ellie thought it was possible she didn’t really see the names. She scrubbed away tears from her cheek. “I can’t really think … I don’t know.”
Ellie had taken a chair opposite the couch and she nodded in reassurance. “That’s okay. We just want you to think about it. This case is moving very quickly. Does she have a connection to any of those addresses? Ever live there? Go to school close by? Anything you can come up with might be helpful, even if you can’t see how it could possibly matter. And we need a key to your mother’s house and permission to search it. There’s a crime scene team out front from the Department of Criminal Investigation.”
Connie Halston seemed to wilt, her dark head resting on her husband’s shoulder. “I don’t care. Go ahead. I think I need to go lie down.”
John Halston stood, pulling his wife to her feet. “I think you should too.” He shot them a look over his shoulder. “I’m sorry. This can’t be good for the baby. I’ll be right back.”
They waited, both of them, and Ellie was aware of the team outside waiting as well. He probably wasn’t gone long, but it felt like forever, and when he returned, he handed Santiago a key. “We have a spare in case she locks herself out. Jesus, this can’t be happening. What do I have to do to give you permission?”
“We can get a warrant, but that will take time and I don’t really think we have it. Anyone else live with your mother-in-law?”
“No. I’m sure you already know this but her house is just a few blocks from here. That’s why we chose this neighborhood.” He stood there, rumpled and sweating, his face drawn. “I’ll sign something if you want … or get Connie to sign it. Do you think I should call her doctor?”
This was part of the process Ellie always felt uncomfortable with. Being an authority figure wasn’t necessarily a good thing when people looked to you for help and you couldn’t give it. “I’m sorry, but I can’t advise you one way or the other as a police officer on a nonemergency medical matter, but I will say as a person, if I were you and was worried, I would call her obstetrician.”
“Thanks.” He blinked and looked away. “I will. You know, this is crazy. My mother-in-law wasn’t perfect, no one is, but she was a decent woman. We got along, and Connie and her mother were really close. Connie’s dad died when she was little, and Elizabeth really did her best to support them both. This isn’t fair. Why would anyone kill her?”
When it came to murder, it really wasn’t ever fair. Fate was one thing, deliberate harm another.
“She worked two jobs, and at one time even took in foster kids, to make ends meet.” He was no longer trying to keep his emotions in check, his hand shaking as he lifted one to wipe his brow.
It was as if the world stopped and pivoted. Santiago found his voice first. “She what? What the hell did you just say?”