Melanie looked back and forth between them. It was obvious what Slice’s next move would be. “You mean Amanda Benson,” she said.
“Yes,” Dan said.
Randall nodded soberly. “You better make those calls fast. For all we know, Slice left here and headed straight for that hospital.”
Randall walked away just as Butch Brennan and his crime-scene team arrived in force.
“Whoa, looks like you guys got a serious psycho on your hands,” Butch said, dumping a load of equipment in the corner of the room and walking over to the dresser. “Look at this. My first severed head in five years. A real clean cut, too. Guy can chop, I’ll say that for him. Hey, Castro, we need a few nice pictures of this one.”
“You got it, boss. Pictures of the head. What else?”
“Any cuts on the body that show the size of the blade. ME’ll compare ’em to cuts on Benson’s body, and the murder weapon, if we get lucky enough to find it.”
The crime-scene team took control efficiently, herding the rest of the New Jersey police out of the room and confining Dan and Melanie to the tiny entry hall so the team members could work without interference. While they waited, Dan and Melanie started working their cell phones, looking for reinforcements. Melanie tried without luck to reach Bernadette, who was out of the office until midafternoon. Dan left several messages for guys who he said owed him favors. Bottom line, they both came up empty-handed for the moment. After a while Randall returned, shaking his head.
“Of course nobody saw or heard a thing,” he said. “Nothing that could help with time of death. No physical description either. Only thing is a pile of cigarette butts in a closet down the hall.”
“That’s something, anyway,” Melanie said. “Let’s have Butch’s guys collect them for DNA sampling.”
“Will do.” He nodded gravely.
“Listen, Randall, I owe you an apology.”
“I owe you one, too. I can see how upset you are. First time you lose a witness?”
“Yes, and I’m gonna make damn sure it’s the last.”
“Nothing worse than that. Except maybe losing a partner. I been through that, too. Look, honey, let me pass along something it took me a lotta hard years to learn. Play for your own team. Maybe that sounds cynical, but useful things often are. There’s us and there’s them. Pointing fingers at us only helps them. And this is one guy you don’t want to help.” His glance took in the whole blood-spattered room.
She wasn’t sure she agreed with Randall’s message, but before she could open her mouth to reply, Butch Brennan came over to give them a report.
“Whaddaya got, Butch?” Dan asked.
“Off the bat, different MO from the last time.”
“How’s that?” Melanie asked.
“Well, as far as I can tell, this is a straight knife job. No dog attack, no gunshot, no setting the remains on fire. As far as I can tell.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Melanie asked.
“Not everything’s here to examine.”
She felt light-headed again, but she managed to keep her voice steady. “What’s missing?”
“Quite a bit. One of the arms. Both legs. The torso’s here. It was under the blankets. But it’s been cut open and, like, scooped out. You wanna know exactly what’s missing from inside, you need to ask the ME.”
“Why would he do that?” Dan asked.
A vision of the stolen animal-torture photographs flashed into Melanie’s mind with such clarity that she gasped. They all looked at her.
“For his dog,” she said with absolute conviction, remembering the bloodied paws and muzzle in the bottom corner of the Polaroid. “Slice took the parts for his dog.”
“I bet you’re right,” Dan said. “That sick fuck.”
“We’ve got to stop him. And we’d better get to Amanda Benson right away.”
23
THE CAVERNOUS MAIN FLOOR OF SAKS WAS JAM-PACKED and noisy at lunch hour. Nell Benson strolled past the cosmetics displays, stopping occasionally to spray perfume across her wrist as she looked in every direction. Her senses were sharp, but they weren’t doing her much good in this chaotic place. Vast flower displays and mirrored partitions impeded her view. Sound floated upward, became muddy, and disappeared into the vine-covered ceiling as into the dome of a cathedral. Still, she was relatively confident she wasn’t being followed.
She took the lumbering wooden elevator to the fourth floor. Here everything was bright and open. She was certain now she was alone. Even so, she walked around, fingering a garment now and then, looking over her shoulder discreetly. Best to be careful. A saleslady, noting her expensive bag and the diamonds weighing down her hand, stepped forward and asked if she needed help.
“Just looking,” Nell said. After a moment she headed for the ladies’ room.
The waiting area smelled bad, so she raised her perfumed wrist to her nose. A young mother sat on the upholstered bench by the pay telephone, nursing her baby. Nell looked at her, frowned, and disappeared into a stall for a while. When she came back, the mother was still there. Nell walked casually over to the makeup mirror and opened her bag, taking her time choosing a lipstick shade. She watched in the mirror as the mother closed her blouse, tucked her baby back into the stroller, and left.
When the waiting area was empty, Nell went over to the pay phone. She dug around in the bottom of her bag, the blinking green light of her cell phone providing just enough illumination to help her find a quarter. The plastic receiver was greasy in her hand as she dropped the quarter into the slot. God knew what you could catch from these things, but at least they still took change. She’d had a moment of fear about that in the elevator. When she got the dial tone, she punched in the number.
“Hello?” Rommie answered.
“It’s Nell.”
“Well, hello. What’s this number you’re calling from? I don’t recognize it.”
“It’s a pay phone.”
“A pay phone?” He sighed. “You watch too many spy movies.”
“I’m just being careful. People could draw conclusions from our friendship.”
“What’s wrong with us being friends? I was friends with Jed, I’m friends with you. Big deal. Besides, I’m seeing Bernadette. Everybody knows that.”
“Still, in a situation like this, with the will getting probated and all, appearances matter.”
“So I take it that’s why you haven’t returned my calls?”
“Don’t be so touchy. I called you yesterday. About that prosecutor, remember? The one who’s harassing Amanda? And I’m calling you now.”
“I called you three times last night to see how you were doing. It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, and this is the first you get back to me? I’ve been worried about you.”
“Come on, now,” she coaxed, a honeyed note in her husky voice. “Be nice, Rom. I don’t want to fight with you. If I haven’t called sooner, it’s only because I was at the hospital with Amanda. Do you have any idea how difficult this is for me, watching what she’s going through? Can you even imagine?”
He was quiet momentarily. “No, I can’t. But you know I’ve done everything in my power-”
“Of course. I know that, and I’m grateful, I really am. But tell me again, what are you doing to protect her now, right this minute?”
“You hired Bill Flanagan like I told you, right?”
“Oh, yes. He showed up this morning. To say I wasn’t impressed is the understatement of the year. He reeks of gin! Reminds me of my father. There’s nothing I hate more than a broken-down old wino.”
“The guy hits the bottle, I’ll grant you that. But he’s one tough son of a bitch. Nobody gets past him.”
“I’m taking your word on him.”
“You won’t be sorry.”
“But is one person even enough? I mean, Amanda saw the whole thing. She could testify. That animal is going to come after her, I know it.”
“Is she awake? Has she said anything?”