It was Tess that looked sad, but there wasn’t anything Vito could do to fix it any more than he could fix the look of sadness he’d seen on Sophie’s face the night before.
Tuesday, January 16, 8:01
A.M.
“Mmmm.” Jen McFain sank her teeth into a sugary cruller. “Have one.” She pushed the box toward Beverly Jenkins, one of the detectives Liz had assigned to Vito’s case.
Beverly cast a baleful eye at the box. “How do you stay so skinny, McFain?”
“Metabolism.” Jen grinned. “But if it’s any consolation, my mom says my metabolism will come to a screeching halt when I’m forty and every bite I take will land on my ass.”
Beverly’s lips twitched. “Then there is a God.”
Liz came in with Katherine and Tim Riker, Beverly’s partner. “Where are we, Vito?” Liz asked when they’d taken their seats and passed the donut box down the table.
“Liz gave you most of the details yesterday,” Vito said to Riker and Jenkins. “We have one firm ID yesterday and two more tentative IDs last night,” Vito said. He walked to the whiteboard where he’d recreated Katherine’s sketch of the four by four matrix. In each rectangle he’d written in a short description of each victim and their cause and approximate time of death.
“We’ve ID’d Warren Keyes, and our tentative IDs are on these females.” He pointed to plots three-two and one-one. “The one with the folded hands could be Brittany Bellamy.” He taped her picture on the side of the board. “Brittany was a model. Her picture and a list of her clients is in the packet of info I made for each of you. We don’t know where she lives. Her name isn’t in our missing persons files or in the DMV files. She might not be local.”
“What about the other female?” Liz asked.
“Her name is Claire Reynolds,” Katherine said. “She’s got a metal plate in her head and she’s an amputee, right leg, above the knee. I came in at six and contacted the manufacturer of the metal plate. They were able to match the serial number on the plate to Claire Reynolds. The plate was put into Claire’s head after a car accident. Claire was living in Georgia at the time and the surgery was done in Atlanta. I assume her leg was damaged in the same accident. I’ll know when I get her medical history.”
Vito took up the tale. “Claire moved to Philly about four years ago. Her last known employment was with one of the branches of the library. Her parents reported her missing about fourteen months ago. Their description matches the body we found.”
“And the timing is consistent with the level of decomposition,” Katherine added. “I haven’t started her autopsy yet, but I did x-ray her while I was waiting for the guy to check his records for her name. Her neck was broken. No other obvious injuries.”
Vito taped her picture to the whiteboard next to the rectangle marking her grave. “I got this photo from the DMV records. Her parents need to be notified.”
Beverly was taking notes. “We can take that. We’ll also see if we can get a hair sample or anything we can use for a positive DNA ID.”
“You found the woman with the folded hands in the same modeling site that Warren Keyes used,” Tim said. “Was Claire a model too, and is there any possibility we could find any of these others there?”
“I didn’t check to see if Claire was a model. She doesn’t really have the look, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t. It’s worth a check.”
“I doubt the three elderly people were models,” Liz said. “It’s more likely you’ll find the three younger men there, the head-wound, gunshot, and shrapnel vics.”
Vito frowned. “Tino said there wasn’t enough of the other young men left for a sketch, and the forensic anthropologist is at a conference until next week.”
Beverly lifted her brows. “Tino?”
“My brother, aka free consultant sketch artist. He did this sketch of the girl with the folded hands. We used it to locate Brittany Bellamy on the modeling site.” Vito pulled Tino’s sketch from his folder and slid it to the middle of the table. “He thinks he can do sketches of the older couple, but none of the others.”
“He’s good,” Tim said, comparing the sketch to Brittany’s picture. “But if he can’t get us sketches, we can try to match their physical characteristics to missing persons.”
“It’s worth a try,” Vito agreed. “But first we need to confirm our victim really is Brittany Bellamy. After you notify Claire Reynolds’s parents, can you two also call Brittany’s clients and see if you can track down an address?”
Jen raised a brow. “And you’ll be doing…?”
“I’ll be tracking down the equipment he used on the most recent torture-murders. I want to establish a money trail. Sophie Johannsen gave me a list of people who either sell reproductions or may know of the sale of authentic artifacts. I’m looking for a chair, a rack, a sword, and mail.” He looked at Katherine. “Nick thinks the circular bruises you saw were from chain mail.”
“He could be right. Someone would have had to hit him with a lot of force to cause that kind of bruising,” she said thoughtfully. “Like maybe with a hammer.”
“But that doesn’t explain the other injuries,” Liz said. She pulled the photos of victim three-one closer. “Whatever hit his head and arm was heavy and sharp. Jagged, even.”
“The blow to his head came from a horizontal angle,” Katherine added. “It was enough to rip the top of his head off. The blow to his arm was delivered vertically.”
“Warren had held a sword at some point,” Jen suggested. “Maybe he used that.”
Katherine shook her head. “We’re looking for something blunt, but also sharp.”
“And medieval.” Jen grimaced. “What about that spiked ball on a chain? If it got whipped around hard enough, it could deliver a blow with that kind of force.”
“A flail,” Tim said and winced. “God.”
“I’ll add a flail to my list,” Vito said. “Okay. We know Warren got a hit on his résumé the day before he disappeared. The modeling site allows prospective employers to contact the models via e-mail. We don’t know who e-mailed him because they sent a virus to wipe his hard drive.”
“Maybe we can get something from Brittany’s computer,” Liz said. “Get it to IT for testing. Also get into her account and see if she got any hits in the last month.”
Beverly nodded. “Will do. You know, Vito, there’s one thing that bothers me.”
“Only one?” Vito asked and she shot him a dry smile.
“The fingertips on the old man. Your report says you think it was the only crime of real passion out of all of these, and that makes sense. But why take his fingertips? Seems like the killer must have known the man could be identified by his prints, but it would have been a threat only if the body were found. He obviously didn’t think any of his other victims would be found. He made no effort to disguise any of them.”
“It was part of the assault,” Katherine said. “The fingerpads were cut off while the old man was still alive. Whoever this guy is, the killer really hated him.”
“Let’s let Tino sketch their faces,” Vito suggested, “then we’ll see if anything pops. What about the old lady buried in the first row?”
“Haven’t even peeked at her yet. I’ll do the autopsy today.” Katherine looked at Jen. “Did you get anything on the bullet I took from one-three?”
“Yes. The bullet’s from a German Luger,” Jen said with a satisfied nod. “The ballistics guy thinks it’s vintage 1940s. He’s going to do some checking today.”
Liz shrugged. “It’s a common enough gun, even the vintage ones. It most likely won’t be traceable.”
But Tim was nodding. “Yeah, but it’s significant considering he’s buried next to a guy with shrapnel in his gut. It’s going to be interesting to get a read on the grenade that was used on him. And if the gun is vintage, it’s just more data to show that this guy goes for authenticity wherever possible.” Tim looked over at Vito. “You got two historical themes going on, both warfare related.”